The Stolen Biography
Trigger warnings for child abuse and family member death.
The Locket
It’s like waking up from a bad dream. Her skin feels cold and she immediately cries out, wants her mother, but the place is strange and unfamiliar. There are people there, people she doesn’t know, and the first thing she asks is where her mother is. They exchange looks, and then another person comes in; a woman, with hair turning gray at the temples, and a shiny silver disk hanging around her neck. There’s a rose on it. It looks real. She stares at it while the woman tells her about the car crash. Pictures come alive in her head as her words take shape, making her remember. Everything is blurry and she hears this horrible noise, like screaming, it’s so loud, and her throat hurts. It’s only when the woman reaches out to hold her that she realizes the screaming is coming from her.
The Doll
Dolls are for babies. She used to see the younger kids at daycare play with them when her foster father dropped her off during the day, toting them around close to their flat chests, feeding them plastic bottles and changing their empty plastic diapers with the Velcro seals. Real diapers are like paper, with tape. She’s changed one or two, helping out the daycare people when she was bored. She knows when she was little she used to have dolls, but she isn’t little anymore. She’s turning eleven in three months. They were going to have a party if she was real good and did everything she was told to do. The lady in the white dress calls her name, asks her to look at her, and Izzy does. Again she holds out the doll, and again she asks her to point on it where her foster father made him touch her. Izzy doesn’t need the doll to tell her. She tells the lady exactly where, using the words he told her to use.
The Vow
It doesn’t matter how many times they move her around, every house is the same. Two parents, usually trying to make their marriage work; they can’t have children, because the man is infertile or the woman keeps having miscarriages, or it’s God’s plan that they take in a lost soul and raise it as their own. It doesn’t make any difference, because they’re all assholes, and none of them understand why she won’t call them mommy or daddy. She had a mom and dad. They’re dead in the ground. She tells the therapist about it every Thursday, sometimes walking outside, sometimes sitting on the chaise in the office while she picks out all the chocolate that doesn’t have nuts in it. Everyone’s always asking her questions. What does she want to be when she grows up? Does she like school? What’s it like to be a foster kid? When she was younger, she would answer, but the questions bother her now, and she vows never to tell anyone because the moment they learn that her parents are dead, they look at her differently.
First Criticism
There’s no reason for Tommy Powers to like her. She’s the new girl and he’s the quarterback. It’s the first time anyone has ever called her pretty, and she thinks maybe, just maybe, he means it, because he kisses her afterward. School’s been out for three hours, and Molly – her latest foster mother – is probably at home and freaking out, but she doesn’t care. Tommy’s hands are under her shirt, sending every nerve in her stomach jumping, but when he gets up to her boobs he frowns at her. “They’re small,” he says. “They’ll get bigger,” she says back harshly, yanking his hands out from her shirt. “Too bad you’re stuck with what you’ve got for the rest of your life.”
The Promise
Group home isn’t so bad. It’s kind of like school, actually. The kids sit in little groups and glare at her, and her bunkmate hides everything under her bed, threatens to kill her if she finds anything missing. Just like school. Izzy sits alone at the table closest to the door, head down as she eats her dinner, then a shadow crosses her plate. She doesn’t look up. “Can I sit here?” It’s a boy’s voice, but she still doesn’t look, just nods and keeps picking apart the dinner roll. Rather than sit across from her, he sits in the chair next to her. Once his tray is put down, there’s another weight added to the table, and this time she does look up. It’s a notebook. There are drawings in it. One of them looks a lot like her, and she turns her face up finally, sees him watching her, his eyes bright blue in comparison to his darker skin. She smiles, and he smiles back. “You can have it, if you want. But only if we can be friends.”
The Clock
Every second it clicks out reminds her of how long it’s been since lights out. She stopped thinking about them as sixty counts to a minute and just counts the numbers. 28,800 until morning; 120 until it’s time to go to school; 28,920 until she can sit with Micah in the rec center and talk about letting out all the animals at the zoo, or some other crazy scheme.
Listening In
“Can I at least tell her goodbye? She’s my best friend.”
“You can write to her. Go pack your things.”
The Shoes
Combat boots aren’t really that comfortable to wear long term. It’s absolutely necessary to get running shoes. Nobody seems to be looking as she shoves them in her bag, but she knows there are cameras. She’ll have to be quick. It’s her first score, and she almost doesn’t make it out of Target, but then Ralphie is there, like a puppet master, the plan already thought out. They’ll end up checking her at the door, but the bag’ll be empty, because Ralphie has already gotten the goods out in his own pack. He knows how to find Micah too, and that’s why she stays.
