Foster's Home For The Imaginary Friends Novels & Stories

her voice sprinkled unease on my chest. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop over before going home,” I informed. ***** Their home smelled of the same cinnamon and warmth that had welcomed me years ago when I came from the orphanage. I smiled as I remembered the memory of that young lad. They sat me down in the living room, their expressions cold, which made me more worried than I was driving here. “What’s going on?” I asked as I sat, my chest tightening. My foster father exhaled, staring at me as though he was searching for the right words. I stared back at both of them, confused.

I've even moved states after one family sent me on a long train trip all to get rid of me so they could claim I ran away and then find me for some kind of prize money. The city turns to trees and grass and yes horses and cows, even goats and sheep as we drive for what feels like hours. When we finally stop it's almost dark and the house looks like one of those old ones you see in western movies. "This is Judlyn Family, and they will be your new fosters" the social worker says with a bright fake smile. "Well come on kid it's getting late and suppers getting cold" the man says and takgs my bag from the social worker while I follow the lady inside.

“And that’s part of what I want us to address today. Though, I already came to a conclusion and you have to follow suit.” Now this guy is really scaring me… “Okay… that doesn’t sound scary at all. What’s it you wanna talk about, huh?” I said out of curiosity. I didn’t trust this man a dent, because I knew what he was capable of. “Well, I’ve arranged a place for you. It’s called a foster home. That’s where teenagers like you, what word should I use for it? Bastards like you who don’t have parents, that’s where they go. And I already signed all the required documents for you to move there.”

Four kids were all over the living room, running, jumping, and screaming their lungs out, ages six to nine. Zeal and her husband, Benjamin Strand, were the angels she found when she was looking for the perfect home that would be in charge of Star until she was ready to take him. They were understanding and honest with her throughout the process and have been her close friends since then. The two had been trying to have children for a decade and, having no luck; they decided to go into fostering, which they have done for the past five years. Their records were excellent, and they treated the kids like their own. She knew Star would be loved here until the time came to take him back.

And those people, the Beech family, were the monsters. Justin and Lela Beech were the kind of foster parents that people make horror movies about. You know the psychological horror where the villains hide in plain sight and no one ever suspects them. The kind of horror movie that either ends with a survivor making it out and stopping them, or that ends with no survivor to tell the truth. They collected foster kids like Pokémon cards. And honestly, it’s not a far-off comparison as they used us for their own ends.

But we were separated to different foster homes because I was too young to raise my siblings, and Effie couldn't live with our aunt in the Philippines because of her tantrums. I lived with a lovely old couple, John and Addy Ferguson. They are around their seventies, and their children already have their own life. They feel lonely sometimes. So when social services planted me in Ferguson's home, they welcomed me with open arms. I was skeptical at first because the Fergusons are strangers to me, and I learned from too many dramas that living in foster homes can be scary. They tried to open up to me by being kind and gentle, but I still didn't trust them. Over sometimes, while doubting they wer

I ended up in the foster system. The first foster home seemed fine at first. They had several other foster children, all girls, and on the surface, everything appeared normal. But as time went on, their true colours began to show. The foster father was a violent drunk, and the foster mother, though less physical, was verbally abusive, berating us daily, drilling fear into us. We were merely bodies filling space in their home, a paycheck to fuel their own lives. But that was not the worst of it.

It comes out as a question, and I know better. “So three,” I correct, and she nods. “Look at them!” Briar pulls out her phone to show me a picture of the three kittens. “They’re cute,” I admit, even if they are a bit malnourished. “But is this a foster?” In the back of my mind, I knew when we moved off campus, a pet situation would arise. I made sure that the places I checked before we picked one were animal friendly. “I mean, yeah. It’s a foster until they find a home.” She’s lying to herself, but I’m going to let it go. Briar is floating around at the moment and not latching on to any one job or direction.

The notion of handing her the keys would give him a nervous breakdown. Which would serve him right. ***** “I see some things haven’t changed between you two,” AJ said. “There’s a fight brewing and I don’t wanna be around for the making up part.” She took Foster’s hand. “Come on, son. Aunt Domini has a bowl of Cheerios with your name on it downstairs at Dewey’s.” Foster didn’t hug Keely goodbye. The only thing that interested the kid more than Legos was food. The door slammed. “Did you tell her the truth?” Jack demanded.

His jaw tightened and I could feel that his wolf was uneasy to leave me alone with Foster in this state. "Go," I let my alpha command seep in. He stiffens but he obeys. "Yes alpha," he turns around and enters the house. As soon as the door click shut behind him I take a step forward, but made sure to not go too close. Pickett had been an ordinary human and she killed Giovanni. Foster was a human. Well he was now human. Foster came from a line of warlocks and witches like Pickett did. His parents however died a long time ago. His guardians who he referred to as his parents are ordinary human beings who know about his kind.