Amber sighed as she plopped into the uncomfortable metal chair in the lobby, hearing the distinct argument going down between the receptionist and Mr. Lawrence. Mr. Lawrence wouldn't have been the first to send Amber back into the orphanage. She had gone through so many foster homes, she lost count.
She crossed her right leg over her left, and threw her back in her boredom. About ten minutes later, an angry Mrs. Wilkins approached her. "What did you do to screw it up this time?" She fumed.
Amber shrugged.
"Your room! Now! You should know where it is by now. Stay there until visitations start!"
Amber groaned as she walked down the familiar hallways to her 'room'. More like a prison cell. And, oh. Visitations. She hated those too. Watching young couples dote over the young 'angelic' children as she sat in the corner doing nothing. And the only times adults did approach her was to scold her or tell her to act... interesting.
Amber slowly turned the knob of her door to reveal an old, dusty, and ragged room. Home sweet home. She sat down on her bed and looked towards the cracked ceiling and sighed. Waiting.
Is there something wrong with me? (foster care role play)
- StoryToRemember
- Closed
This is an archived version of FeralFront. While you can surf through all the content that was ever created on FeralFront, no new content can be created.
If you'd like some free FeralFront memorabilia to look back on fondly, see this thread from Dynamo (if this message is still here, we still have memorabilia): https://feralfront.com/thread/2669184-free-feralfront-memorabilia/.