My Parents Left Me Home Alone And Left Forever. I Was 6

My Parents Left Me Home Alone And Left Forever. I Was 6


Hi! I’m Amber and I’m 13. Has anyone ever betrayed you? I hope not, but I think that you’re probably
able to imagine how painful it is to know that your parents never wanted to have you. Imagine… you open your eyes in the morning
after having had another nightmare about monsters torturing you, and can’t find anybody from
your family at home. You search for them, you call for them, and
then you just begin to cry, because there’s no mom, and there’s no dad to come find you
and calm you down. Well, this happened to me when I was 6. I’d gotten really scared. We lived in the poorest neighborhood and in
the smallest apartment ever, but when I was left there alone that day, it seemed huge
and full of monsters to me. I remember that I cried so hard that I fell
back to sleep again. And I kept opening my eyes, noticing that
nobody had come, and closing them back again. And I had that dream about monsters and they
told me that nobody wanted me and I felt so depressed. Social services from the child protection
offices, or whatever institution, didn’t find me until 2 days later. Our neighbors probably heard me sobbing and
called them. They took me to an orphanage and after a few
days there a tall woman came up to me. She said that she was a doctor and that she
was going to help me to accept the fact that I had to live at the orphanage for a while. No, I don’t think that place was bad. I think it was a disaster. I mean, I lived there with a bunch of other
different children and not everybody was nice to me. Once, an older girl named Vicky accused me
of stealing, because she’d found a chocolate bar under my pillow. She said that this bar was given to her by
a lady who always came to visit Vicky. But I didn’t know that. It was my first week there and I’d just
happened to find that chocolate bar on the floor and hidden it so I could eat it later. I didn’t know that it was anybody else’s
or that I was not supposed to do it. So, I’d gotten punished. However, being punished wasn’t new to me. My dad would always find a reason to say that
I did something wrong. I won’t go in detail; I’ll just say that
my body was never without any bruises, as far as I remember. My dad wasn’t mean, he just had some problems
with self-control, as mom would call it. One day I saw her crying. She said that my dad had left us and since
he was the only breadwinner we would soon be out of food and money. He came back in three or four days, but the
days without him were surprisingly peaceful for me. But then both of them were gone and I don’t
know what happened. I mean, I was asking about them every day,
but none of the grownups in that orphanage knew anything. And about the grownups… different people
who wanted to adopt a child would come to see us pretty often. They would watch us playing, bring us something
tasty, and even talk to some of us. It reminded me of a pet shop, where you look
at puppies, trying to figure out which one would fit in with you the most. I didn’t want to be a puppy. I was sure that the day would come when my
mom and dad would find me and take me home. But they didn’t. One day, I accidentally overheard two of our
teachers talking about my parents. It turned out that the police had found my
mom in a rehab center. I couldn’t believe my ears! They’d found my mom! I was definitely not supposed to hear that
news, but it was so inspiring that I just couldn’t stop thinking of the day when she
would finally come and take me home. I spent days and nights counting minutes until
the moment I’d see my mom again. I was drawing lots of different pictures to
give to her. I even stopped being angry at stupid Vicky,
who had been down on me ever since that chocolate incident and kept teasing me. One day she, as usual, was bragging to everybody
about a cake the woman who wanted to adopt her had given to her. Vicky was supposed to share it with everybody,
but she had all intentions of dropping the piece which was supposed to be mine on the
floor. I wanted to punch her in the eye and told
her that she might be getting adopted soon, but I was about to see my real mom. She said that I was a liar and Ms. Patterson,
the headmaster, heard it, and… Well, I had to have a serious talk with her. It turned out that I had misunderstood the
information I’d heard. They had really found my mom, but she didn’t
want to take me. She denied her responsibility as a parent
and said that she was ready to sign any papers for any family that would ever want to have
me. This almost killed me. At first, my dad dumped me as if I was nothing,
and now my mom was happy to not be my mom anymore. Because of everything, I felt sick and stayed
ill for 10 days, unable to eat or leave the bed. It had been 6 months of me being at the orphanage
when I had found out that one nice family wanted to become fosters for me. They told me about their nice big house, with
a pool, and their big black dog and stuff. I was tired of being alone, because I hadn’t
made friends with anyone, so I agreed to go with them. This family – the Johnsons, was kind. They had twin sons that they’d already adopted
and as far as I understood, if the boys and I got along great together, they would be
ready to have me, like, permanently. Life with the Johnsons was interesting, maybe,
but not fun. They were very strict and severe in their
punishments. Of course, they didn’t beat us, but after
any shortcomings from one of us, be it a broken plate or loud rock music, they’d leave all
three of us with no supper, even if we were hungry. They thought this would develop a family spirit
among us. And since my new brothers were naughty 12-year-old
boys, we rarely ate in the evenings. They also wouldn’t let us listen to anything
other than classical music, and arranged a piano teacher for me. Was it bad? Of course not, you’d say. But this wasn’t the family I really wanted,
I guess. I lived there for a while when social workers,
as usual, came to check and see how I was doing there. But this time it was different. It turned out that my dad had appeared and
wanted to have me back. The Johnsons were devastated, because legally
he had the right to take me. The next day they set up a meeting with him
to discuss everything and guess what? He figured out that I had gotten in with a
wealthy family and demanded money in exchange for the right to be my parent. I’m not sure what happened next in detail,
because back then I was only 7 years old and I doubt this information matters. But, you see, both of my biological parents
apparently didn’t want to have me, ever. Now, as you might have guessed, I still live
with the Johnsons. They’ve adopted me and now they are my only
parents, legally. With time I not only learned to play the piano,
but I also got used to their family rules. I can even say that I love them now, but don’t
tell them this. My brothers have grown up and are now studying
in college already. And recently one of them posted a photo of
his classmates on his Facebook and I was surprised to recognize one of the girls in it. See? That’s Vicky, my former “chocolate-bar-friend.” I hope that my story was interesting or maybe
inspiring for any of you and you are free to share it with others. By the way, don’t forget to subscribe to
this channel and watch more stories that actually happened.

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