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Little Lost Girl: The Complete Series

Page 10

by Angelique S. Anderson


  “Not that I know of,” Star replied. She looked outside and saw that the sun was rising. Her foster parents might have discovered she was missing, but she didn’t know for sure.

  “Then I don’t need to call the police. You need to call your foster parents.” The attendant slammed the phone down on the counter in front of her and went back to reading his magazine. Star gazed at the phone and hesitated for several minutes. Finally, she got up the nerve to call her foster parents and ask them to come pick her up.

  Mr. Charleston didn’t sound angry when he drove up to the gas station, and Star felt bad about cutting the screen in her room and running away. His only words to her as they drove home were, “We were going to take you to Disneyland, and we were going to adopt you.”

  Star gazed out the window sadly and said nothing.

  “Go get some sleep. I’ll call your worker in a few hours,” Mr. Charleston said as he pulled into the driveway in front of his house and parked.

  Star trudged back to her room, packed her belongings, and crawled into bed, thankful to be warm for the first time in hours. Her fingers burned as the icy numbness wore off and feeling returned to them. She drifted off into a restless sleep hoping Mrs. Thomas would not put her in a group home.

  Chapter Nine

  Stepsister’s House

  Star sat across from her caseworker with her stepsister by her side. Rachel had passed the back­ground check and home inspection, and she had even completed several of the classes required for her to be certified as a foster parent. Just a few more steps remained, and she would be fully qualified.

  “You will do whatever you have to do to get your way, won’t you?” Mrs. Thomas snapped, glaring at Star from across the table as she filled out more paperwork. Star remained silent, not wanting to say something rude or disrespectful. “Thanks to your stunt last night, you have run out of foster homes. The group homes are filled, so I have no choice but to place you with Rachel. But if she doesn’t finish her requirements, I will pull you out of her home so fast your head will spin. Do you understand, both of you?”

  Star and Rachel nodded their heads in unison. Star had no idea what her stepsister was thinking, but she was glad to be sitting next to her and not have to endure her caseworker’s withering glare alone. Now and then during the meeting, Rachel glanced over at Star and smiled, letting her know it would be okay, they just had to make it through this formal interview.

  Once the paperwork was finished, Mrs. Thomas glared at Star one last time, and then they were free to go. Star was ecstatic. She was convinced that living with her stepsister would be the home she had always dreamed of. She was fifteen years old and eager for more freedom, a desire she felt Rachel would understand.

  Star started Kalispell Junior High and soon bonded with a small clique of friends. They were a misfit bunch—the kids who wore dark clothes and kept to their own little group. They didn’t fit in with anyone but each other, and they were okay with that. Sometimes they took the bus to the mall and hung out there; other times they walked the railroad tracks and just talked.

  Star was blissfully happy, aside from the drama that came with being a teenager, crushes on boys, and dealing with out-of-control emotions stirred up by the neglect and abuse in her childhood. She went to parties and had her first kiss, though it was disappointing. While her friends were off having sex, she was too afraid to let anyone near her because of the abuse in her past.

  On the night of her homecoming dance, Star drank too much for the first time. She smoked weed too. In a drunken stupor and egged on by peer pressure, she let a boy climb on top of her and do what he wanted. Feeling nothing, she turned over and went to sleep while her friends partied all night.

  The next morning, she felt regret and shame for what she had let happen. The feeling crept into her like a nagging conscience. It was enough to make her never want to do it again. After that, when she got close enough to one boy who she thought she was in love with, she refused his advances. He broke up with her soon after and then lied to their mutual friends that he had dated her on a dare to win a bet. Star had learned to deal with rejection at every level in the same way—she bundled it up and tucked it away, unaware of what effect it might have on her later.

  She had resumed talking to her father and stepmother by phone again and often visited her grandfather on weekends, although not as often as she had liked to do before. Weekends were the time for her to hang out with her friends and cause mischief, and there was plenty of that to be found.

  Star’s conversations with her dad and stepmother always were traumatizing on some level. They always had bad news to report. Her dad’s health was failing, and he had been in and out of the hospital. During the months Star had been in foster care and then moved in with her stepsister, her father had caught pneumonia, been diagnosed with liver disease, and had a heart attack. His medical updates depressed her. She wished that one day she would call and he would say that he was healthy and ready to be a dad again, but it never happened.

  While her father was having medical issues and Star went on gopher hunting trips with her stepsister, things began to unravel in her life again. She could sense the change but couldn’t put her finger on it at first. Rachel and the man she had married were not doing well. Rachel would go to work while her husband was home; she returned, and her husband left for work. They stopped talking, and finally, one day, Rob packed his things.

  The day Rob left, he patted Star’s head affectionately and said, “Guess I’ll see you around, kid.” He walked out the door, his cowboy hat touching the top of the doorframe, and he threw his belongings in the back of his pickup truck. Star watched him drive away but didn’t understand why he was leaving.

  Star was free to come and go much as she pleased during that time because Rachel was always at work or out with her friends. She did her best to catch the bus and get to school on time. She hung out with her friends until dark and then caught a ride home; or if she had taken her bike to school that day, she would ride home. Yet, despite her freedom and having friends, Star felt loneliness pulling at her, always dragging her somewhere. Sometimes it was to thoughts of running away, although she had no reason to run now; other times it was to thoughts of suicide. It was a relentless companion.

  During one of the empty days when Star had nothing to do, Rachel came home early and asked her to sit down for a heart-to-heart talk.

  “I need to tell you something,” she began. “I need to tell you why Rob and I didn’t work out.”

  “Okay,” said Star.

  “I’m gay, Star. I have always been gay. I had a girlfriend before I had a boyfriend,” Rachel confided.

  Star didn’t fully understand her stepsister’s confession or its implications. She asked, “What do you mean, you’re gay? Why did you get married?” Star was a boy-crazy teenager, and the concept of being gay was foreign to her.

  “It was the right thing to do,” Rachel answered cryptically.

  Star fumbled for the right words and finally asked, “Do you have a girlfriend?”

  “No. Not right now. But most of my friends are gay too.”

  Star looked away from her stepsister and digested the information. Nothing had changed in her world, yet everything had. She felt disconnected from herself but wasn’t sure why. She thought of Rob with sadness. Star loved him like a big brother, and it broke her heart to lose someone she cared about. After an uncomfortable silence, she asked, “So that’s why you and Rob split—you won’t get back together then?”

  “No, we won’t,” Rachel answered quietly.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “We’re going to sell the house, Star. I got a job as a traveling plumber, which is why I am not here much anymore.”

  “What are you going to do with me?” Star felt panic rise in her gut, and she searched Rachel’s big brown eyes, realizing that she should trust no one.

  “I don’t know yet. Maybe talk to your grandpa.”

  “I’m not go
ing back to foster care,” Star insisted.

  “I won’t make you go back. We will figure something out.” Rachel spat a wad of chew into an empty beer bottle in front of her. When she leaned forward, her long, brown ponytail fell over one shoulder.

  “Well, okay then,” Star mumbled, ending the conversation. Feeling dejected, she went into the kitchen to make a sand­wich. Everything in her life suddenly felt uncertain, but she was determined not to be weak or sad. She would lose another home, and possibly end up in a group home, but she would hold her head high, smile, and pretend everything was all right.

  In the days after Rachel dropped that bombshell, she was home less and less, and most evenings, Star hung out with her friends. On Star’s sixteenth birthday, Rachel and Rob were in and out of the house, removing their belongings, and Rob gave her a Matchbox 20 CD for her birthday. The rest of the year was a blur.

  As the winter holidays approached, Star’s grandfather showed up at Rachel’s home unexpectedly. Star was elated to see him, and they sat on the couch talking for an hour. The look on her grandfather’s face should have told her that he hadn’t stopped by for a casual visit. But Star was so absorbed in her own life, she didn’t notice the sadness he was carrying.

  “Star, your dad didn’t make it,” he said softly.

  “What do you mean? Dad didn’t say anything about coming here for a visit,” Star replied.

  “He didn’t make it through the night. He passed away yesterday evening.”

  Star stared at her grandfather in shocked disbelief and exclaimed, “What? No! No! I just talked to him! Mom said he was getting better.”

  “I’m sorry, little sweetie. I’m so sorry.”

  Star broke into tears as her grandfather wrapped his arms around her in a protective hug. She sobbed uncontrollably until her survival mode kicked in and she turned off the tears. Her grandfather left soon after to make funeral arrangements. When he was gone, Star withdrew into her room and shut the door.

  Time stood still for three days as she struggled to deal with her emotions of loss as well as relief that her father was no longer hurting or sick. She was on her own now and only had to worry about her own survival. She went back to school and her friends, but time was running out for her. The prospect of ending up in a group home loomed in her future.

  Star begged her stepsister not to tell her caseworker she had separated from Rob, but Rachel said they planned to sell the house since neither of them lived there anymore, and Star would need to find a place to live.

  Star had run out of options. She bounced between her grandfather and her friends to stay off the street and keep fed. But life has a way of turning around unexpectedly. One afternoon after school, she hopped a bus to her grandfather’s house. That evening while she was playing solitaire, he asked her something totally unexpected.

  “Little sweetie, if your mom called, would you want to talk to her?”

  Star thought it was an odd question and replied, “Of course, I will talk to Betty. Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Not Betty. I mean you’re real mom…your birth mom,” her grandfather said.

  Star sat in stunned silence for several minutes. Her father had never mentioned her birth mom except on one occasion when he had painted a portrait of a woman who he said didn’t love Star.

  “I don’t know…” Star answered honestly. She felt a strange flutter in her stomach and wondered, What would I say? What if she doesn’t like me?

  “She wants to talk to you, little sweetie. Can she call you tomorrow after school?”

  “Yeah, that would be okay,” Star replied with ambivalence.

  That night, her heart raced and she tossed and turned, unable to sleep. She looked forward to talking to her real mom for the first time.

  School seemed to drag on forever the next day, and Star couldn’t wait to get home. It was Friday, and the added tension of having a free weekend made waiting for the phone call from her birth mother that much more difficult. She was eating dinner when the phone rang. Her head was spinning when she answered it, and she simply said, “Hello?”

  “Star? Star, this is your mom.”

  Hi, mom,” Star replied. She felt a lump in her throat and tears in her eyes as she thought, My mom…my real mother!

  They talked for over an hour. It was an emotional conversation, punctuated by tears of joy and regret; promises made, secrets revealed. There were so many things Star’s father had not told her. She was thrilled to learn that she had two half-brothers and a half-sister. A whole family was waiting for her in sunny California. It was like discovering a new, unexplored side to herself that Star didn’t know existed.

  That conversation was the first of several that would lead to Star’s mother asking if she would like to move to California. She had always dreamed of being an actress or singer, and the prospect of moving to a state where that could happen was exciting. But even more important, she had dreamed of having a real family that would love her, a stable home, and roots so she would never have to move again. Now that dream was within her reach.

  Star didn’t understand why she felt so apprehensive and had second thoughts about accepting her mother’s invitation. She would regret leaving her grandfather, and she struggled with the thought of leaving him behind. Yet, she also knew he would be relieved that she finally had a home, and he wouldn’t have to worry about her. He had always been her rock and fallback, but he was older now, and a rebellious teen bouncing in and out of his home had to be stressful.

  Despite being more frightened than she had ever been by the unknowns in her future, Star agreed to move to California. Hasty arrangements were made, and her mother drove from California to pick her up. They had to deal with Star’s caseworker and obtain her school records so she could transfer. She cried as she said goodbye to her grandfather, the one person who had always been there for her and had loved her unconditionally throughout her life. The goodbyes to her boyfriend and other friends were difficult too because she knew it was likely that she would never see them again.

  Star had few belongings, but she had a dog she’d been keeping at her stepsister’s house and then relocated to her grandfather’s apartment. Her mom agreed that Star could keep her dog, and after that, they spent the week getting acquainted and finishing up paperwork. Star was ecstatic. She had a family, and she would not be tossed around anymore. She was going home.

  It was a two-day drive from Montana to California. When she walked into her mom’s beautiful home and she was shown to her room, Star knew she was where she belonged.

  It wasn’t easy growing up with two brothers who were strangers through­out most of her life. In her half-sister, she found an ally and a friend. Holidays and birthdays took on a whole new meaning now that she could celebrate them with a real family. It took time for Star to adjust, but the little lost girl had finally been found.

  Dearest Readers,

  Thank you for purchasing this book and taking the time to read it. As the real life Little Lost Girl, I would like to give you an update.

  I am happily married with a family of my own. I have been fortunate to find the healing I needed through my relationship with God and the man He gave me. My husband and I have had our ups and downs, even approaching the brink of divorce at one point. We were young, and I was so angry at life, he often took on my anger and other emotions. But I can joyfully say we have overcome much, and I have made peace with those in my past who broke me. I have forgiven and healed from many things, although healing is an ongoing struggle.

  I did not grieve my father’s passing until I was in my mid-twenties. I miss him still. My grandfather, my rock, passed away when I was eighteen, and even now, some days I feel like I can call him up and talk to him. He was the biggest loss I could have suffered.

  At this point, I have been married for nearly fifteen years, and I have been with the love of my life since high school. I have many interests, and I enjoy connecting with people and hearing their stories. I believe with all my heart
that no matter what someone has gone through, they can still recover and heal. I also believe everyone’s story matters.

  Over the years, I have heard so many heartbreaking tales, and mine pales compared to some. I have heard hopelessness and loss expressed in ways I couldn’t have imagined. The one thing evident in each story, however, is that all the stories I have heard are still being written.

  If you are still alive and breathing, you can take the cards you have been given and turn them into something good. Perhaps you have your own story to tell, or you have the heart to help those who have experienced what you have. Search for ways to do that because when we suffer and hurt, and then turn that suffering around to help someone who has experienced the pain we have felt, our healing begins.

  I hope sharing my journey has helped you in some way. If you ever are in need of someone to talk to, or if you have questions, feel free to email me at authoraanderson@yahoo.com

  Until we meet again, know that there is someone here praying for you who understands and cares.

  Sincerely,

  Angelique S. Anderson

  Resources:

  There has been a stigma and shame placed on mental illnesses, but that is something we need to face together. If you or someone you know is struggling with mental illness, don’t be afraid to get help. Alcohol and drugs are a temporary, harmful solution to a problem that requires more in depth care and diagnosis.

  You can find help with mental illness by going to:

  http://www.nimh.nih.gov/ for resources for a variety of mental illnesses including: Anxiety Disorders ADHD/ADD, Autism Spectrum Disorder, Bipolar Disorder, Borderline Personality Disorder, Depression, Eating Disorders, Schizophrenia, Suicide Prevention

  You can also call:

  Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA) Treatment Referral Helpline at 1-800-662-HELP (4357)

 

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