Page 43 of Finding London

And just like that, the witch is here.

I don’t say anything else as I continue to scrub the mildew-infested gray sponge against the caked-on lasagna pan. I’ve learned, most times, it’s best to be quiet.

“You know, it’s hard to find placements for teenage boys. I would think you’d be a little more grateful when people take you in.” She continues yammering, but it’s almost as if she’s talking for her own benefit.

I try to block her out as I continue to scrub.

“We’re always offered teenagers, and nine times out of ten, they’re boys. You see, girls are adopted much earlier—at least, the good ones. Unless he’s a cute little baby, no one’s standing in line to adopt a boy. Did you hear me? I said, boys are useless. No one wants them.”

I know she’s expecting a response, but I don’t have the desire to play this game. I’ve played it too many times before. So, I simply nod.

Apparently, that’s not the response she wants because, in a clipped tone, she adds, “What do you expect? Even your own parents didn’t want you.”

“Shut up,” I say under my breath, barely containing my rage.

“Excuse me?” she spits out.

I turn and throw the disease-infested sponge on the ground. Through gritted teeth, I say, “Shut up.” My hands clench at my sides, and I have to talk myself out of hitting her in her big, crooked nose.

I’ve had it with these excuses for human beings who sign up to take in kids.Why do they do it? Money? It surely can’t be that much. I mean, look at this dump. Power? They obviously get their thrills from kicking someone else when they’re down. But it still doesn’t add up.

I can’t take it anymore. Years of bottled up despair and anger threaten to explode.And what if it does? What can these people possibly do to me that hasn’t already been done? Kick me out? Being homeless doesn’t seem too bad. Send me to jail? Sounds good to me. Is Carl going to hit me? Hardly. I can outrun him any day. Fat ass.

I’m done.

“My parents died, you stupid twat, and I haven’t been adopted because my grandparents are looking for me to take me back to London.”

She laughs. It’s a deranged sound, and it sends unpleasant chills down my spine.

“No one is coming for you. Are you that stupid? Your grandparents have long forgotten about you. They left you. Even your own flesh and blood didn’t want a piece of shit like you. There’s only one reason a boy your age is still in foster care, and that’s because you’re worthless. The state has to pay people money to put up with you. You’re lucky that there are people like us, willing to take you in.”

“I don’t need you.”

She takes a step toward me until her thin finger is in my face. I can smell the stale rot of her breath.

“Yes. You. Do.”

I hate this woman before me. I hate her more than I’ve ever hated anyone. I despise her more than Jessica, and up until this moment, she had hurt me deeper than anyone else. But, now, the stupid witch Bev has taken the most evil crown. She earned it fair and square. In one breath, she managed to take the little bit of hope that I’d had left, and she obliterated it.

A frail combination of hope and love was all I’d had left. I’d held on to it like a shield, and for years, it had kept me going. It’d turned me into a survivor. I’d learned quickly how to navigate this horrible nightmare I’d been living in. Like a badge on my chest, I’d worn the knowledge that they would come, and it had given me strength to keep going day after day. I’d only had to make it one more day because, the next day, they would be here to save me.

Hope is a powerful thing. It always kept me fighting for every tomorrow.

I’d believed, and because of that, I had known that tomorrow would eventually come. And when it did, it would be worth it.

All of it.

My grandparents would be my saviors, and they would take me to London—a little boy’s vision of heaven, happiness, love.

I always believed that they were out there, fighting to rescue me, but the witch is right. No one is coming. No one is going to save me. Love is a joke, and London’s a lie.

The only person I have looking out for me in this world is me. I’m furious that it took this evil person before me to tell me with such bluntness before I got it, but I hear it loud and clear now.

She’s totally right. They’re not coming for me. They never were. The only two people left on this earth who were supposed to love me have left me completely alone.

I have no one.

I haven’t had anyone for a long time.

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