At the age of twelve, I was thrown into foster care. The police man from a few weeks before saved me and my nine year old sister from our home’s bloody mess. Dad was a drunk; Mom popped pills. When Dad drank, he got very violent. I don’t think I ever saw Mom without a black eye or her arm in a sling. Dad liked to throw things. One time, I think I was five, Mom didn’t have the dishes done when he came home from work, I was playing with my little sister, who was one at the time. I heard a loud noise, then Mom crying. Dad stormed out of the kitchen and muttered profanities as he stomped up the stairs. I went to the kitchen to check on Mom, and she was on the floor, picking up our busted toaster. She wiped the tears from her cheeks, and said to me, sniffling, “Go play with your sister, baby.”

“But mommy,” I said, “We can’t make toast anymore!”

“Listen to me, Indie.” She stood. “One day, we’ll be away from here. We’ll be safe, and I’ll buy a new toaster; one that can toast four pieces of bread at a time. Life will be good. You’ll see.”

“Okay, mommy.” I replied.

Mom kissed me on the forehead; I turned and skipped into the living room. Even though she said we’d be safe, she knew she was wrong. I, my mom, and my sister didn’t get away together. It was just me and Rae that made it. Mom didn’t have a chance.

It didn’t matter how many pills mom popped; she took care of her girls. We were everything to her. Dad kissed each of us on the forehead in the mornings, then he handed Mom two lists, chores and groceries, then Dad left for his job at the factory. Even though the chores were for mom, I always liked helping with the sweeping. That way, she had more time to play with Rae and me. We spent every day together until I was old enough to go to school.
            When I started school, Dad made Mom walk me to and from school. I loved it, though. When Mom picked me up in the afternoons, I would tell her all about my day; from the mean look the boy at the Sharks table gave me, to the funny picture the girl that sat next to me drew. When we got home, I would show off my art projects and sing the songs I learned in class. I taught the songs to Mom, and she would sing with me while Rae danced.