Hai guysss. So um, I’m kinda not feeling well, so I pre wrote this just in case I couldn’t publish a new chapter. (I even prewrote this message, which is like hella weird. WhyamIsoweird) Ahem, anywaysss.

This is told in…. *pause for dramatic affect* Maya’s POV! :O It's a Therapy Sesh type episode, meaning that it's Maya talking to her therapist about her past. But just know guys, this stuff is super super serious. So like *serious mode* if you have any triggers to alcohol abuse, child abuse, abandonment, and- I really hate this word, it's so gross, people are monsters- molestation. I am very serious, this chapter contains those issues, sooo… just be warned. Have that special cushy teddy put on the side for terrified cuddling. Keep your significant other close for patting and loves. Play some Regina Spektor or something. Watch some Bo Burnham. I really like Make Happy, it makes me cry and laugh. Anyways! On to the episode~

Here’s a quick internet hug to keep you okay. *huggles*

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So, what can you tell me about your biological parents. I’ve been seeing you for three years now, since you came to the Reynolds’ household, and you haven’t mentioned them once. Even though that's the reason you come here. You know, I already know what happened in that house.” The old lady in front of me gives me an all too familiar thin smile, as I look up from my colouring page. I felt bad. Before I can say anything, she just cuts me off again, holding her hand up before I even open my mouth.

“Don’t get me wrong, my child. You never HAVE to tell me anything. I’m perfectly fine with talking about your foster family, about how fantastic you’re getting along, about the stories you come up with. And don’t get me wrong, I love hearing about your brave foster sister Naomi, and that goofy foster brother, Carter, of yours… But I want to be able to help you. And so far today, we’ve only been colouring and talking about the season finale of My Little Hooves.” She lowers her hand and sighs, going back to the page she was colouring in, moving her knees slightly to sit on them, as she lowered herself down to the table in front of us.

“I don’t really know much about my parents…” I start, continuing to colour, not wanting to look back at her.

“I do know they never wanted me in the first place. That, and that they were obsessed with listening to The Beatles. They kept me around till I was six, I even remember how they left me. I don’t think they realized I was old enough to remember the stuff they did. The stuff I sometimes saw… I still don’t really understand some of it. My foster mother says they were ‘vulgar words’, and I shouldn’t ever repeat them or anything. Because I did mention it once, when we were alone in the car. She even kissed my forehead afterwards…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I remember the day they left very clearly. The woman, I refuse to call her mother, had finally let me out of the closet she always kept me in. The light was blinding, and I was so happy. She bathed me, and even put new clothes on me. I thought maybe she finally changed her mind about me. You know, that was the first bath I ever remember getting. It was sweet and smelled of candy, unlike the cold wipes she would throw at me through the door. I knew she hated me. She hated me for what I was. For what the man did to me. For how he liked touching me more… But anyways, the woman even brushed my hair, putting it into a small braid. In my excitement, I hugged her. She doesn’t hug me back, just pastes on a fake smile and gives me a microwave dinner. I was so happy, it was more food than I had ever had at once before.

Once we were done, the woman told me we were going to the candy store. I didn’t really understand what she meant, I only knew a handful of words I picked up from listening to the walls. But the way she said it, the way she smiled… I figured it was a fantastic thing. That smile still sometimes haunts me. But then we got in the car, she buckled me up, and the man sat next to her in front, whispering about not getting pulled over.

They told me to leave ahead of them. So I went in, by myself. And they drove off. Gone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She doesn’t say anything, just continues colouring for a bit. I shudder and wipe my cheek with my sleeve, some of the salty water dripping on my lips as I lick them. My mouth felt suddenly dry as bone. I dry swallow and clear my throat, waiting for her to say something. Finally the silence was cut.

“What happened next? Do you remember?” She asks quietly, trying her best to be polite.

“Yeah, people were called. Took me to a house with other girls like me. I stayed two nights before my foster mother was called, and she happily took me in. They welcomed me into their family, just like that. I didn’t think people like that existed. They hugged and played with me, kissed me in lovingly ways, unlike how the man did. It was- is amazing.” I say quietly, folding up the puppy I had just finished colouring in, smiling slightly.

“They’re gonna adopt me officially soon. I’m already a part of their family. But not legally. Not yet.”