Word Count: 336
Prompt #77 Unforgiving 6/50
Notes: lost in the foster care system
He had his stuff shoved into the single duffel bag the social worker said he could have. It was old and tattered, not the nice one he’d gone into the group home with. That one had been stolen by one of the older boys when they’d cornered him the first night and pounded the living shit out of him taking what they wanted. Jimmy Ford had been so scared. His eyes red from crying, his lips still shaking and the hiccups wracking his thin body, he’d been easy prey for the more street savvy delinquents.
Now his lip was split, and he could taste his own blood every time he ran his tongue over them to moisten them. It seemed that while his eyes were constantly running along with his nose, his mouth was dry as a litter box. His clothes were dirty, and he missed having someone to look after him. He didn’t understand why his father’s family didn’t want to take care of him. His own granny had told the social workers no, when they’d gone knocking at her door. He added her name to the list of people he’d never forgive, right under his mother, father and Sawyer.
“Jimmy?” the lady with the skin like a Hershey bar called him from the door. “You ready to go yet?”
“Almost,” he said as he picked up the letter. It was written on wide rule paper, and he shoved it into the pack with care. Someday he’d know where to send it, but until then he’d take good care of it even if no one was taking care of him.
“You’re a mess sweetheart.” He didn’t like that she called him that. She always smelled like too much perfume and not enough baths. Her clothes were nice, but she just felt funny to be around. “Did the other boys beat you up again?”
“No,” he said narrowing his eyes at her as he tugged the crappy duffel over his shoulder. “I fell down the steps.”