This Is The Story Of A Girl
A Different Point Of View
Lisa
Jacey has been here for four weeks and things haven’t really improved much. I couldn’t read her at all. Sometimes she would be so relaxed and talk to me as if we’d known each other forever – at times like that I saw the real Jacey surface – but those times were minimal. In fact it’s only happened once or twice.
When I decided to take in a foster kid and was given Jacey, they warned me that she was difficult and that some of her previous foster parents sent her back to the orphanage because they just couldn’t handle her. I merely thought that she wasn’t difficult, but simply misunderstood. She was obviously very misunderstood, but only because she wouldn’t open up. She had built this huge wall around her. I’ve tried to get through to her, but to no avail. Her defences were strong which led me to believe that she’d been hurt badly in her past. She obviously didn’t trust anyone. Then again, I wasn’t all too sure if I should really trust her either. I did trust her, but I had the feeling that she was lying to me. If she was, she was really good at it.
The only reason I had to think that she was lying to me was the fact that about two weeks ago she had told me that she’d made a whole bunch of friends, yet I haven’t seen any of these friends, which had me wondering. However, I had no other reason to doubt her.
She wasn’t difficult except for the fact that she kept to herself. She had good grades, especially in art, since she’d been moved to the senior class and was still receiving straight A’s. She wasn’t rebellious, though some people might think that of her black clothing, but it didn’t bother me since it was her personal sense of style. She was always home before dark and as far as I was concerned she didn’t drink, smoke or use drugs.
She was never downright rude either. Of course she hated the fact that I got her a job at Starbucks, but I honestly believed that it was good for her. It got her out of the house so she could meet people, gain experience and earn some money. I could still remember that conversation.
Flashback
I heard the front door shut and then Jacey entered the living room. I put down the paint brush I had in my hand and turned to greet her.
“Hey, how was school?”
“Great! I made a few new friends and the teachers are really cool. Turns out I only needed to get to know them a little better.”
She was a little overenthusiastic in her response, which was very unlike her and it made me doubt what she was saying. I decided not to start a fight though and pretended to believe her.
“I’m really glad to hear that, that you are happy. It’s the closest school to my house anyway. It would have been difficult if you had to go to another school.”
The teen smiled and started walking to her room.
“Hey, wait. I have something to tell you,” I said, getting to my feet.
Jacey turned back around and looked at me expectantly. Oh boy, this was not going to go down well.
“I got you a job at Starbucks,” I informed her warily.
There was a short silence during which she gaped at me as if I had sprouted a second head.
“Excuse me.”
“I was kind of hoping that it would help you a bit. You know? Get out a little more. You’ve been here a while now, but you’ve barely gotten out. It’ll do you good to meet some people,” I explained with a small hopeful smile.
“I don’t want to.” she simply said turning away from me.
“I don’t want to force you into doing anything, but you have no choice.”
“What are you going to do if I don’t? Kick me out?” she asked defiantly.
“Of course not! But this will do you good.”
She smiled bitterly, “I doubt it.”
End flashback
The next day she was at Starbucks serving coffee. I was willing to give her all the space she needed, but for all intents and purposes, I was her parent for the time being and that meant that my word was law and she was going to work at Starbucks whether she liked it or not. Of course she didn’t speak to me after that for weeks.
I just wish she would let me in. I can’t help her if I don’t know what’s going on in her life. Currently, I didn’t know any more than the day she arrived except for the fact that she loved art. I was busy cooking dinner when I heard the front door slam, shortly followed by her bedroom door slamming. I frowned, stopped what I was doing and headed down the hall. I knocked on the door, but there was no reply. I went in and found her lying on her bed with her face in her pillow.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Nothing,” came the muffled answer.
I sat down next to her.
“You can tell me you know. Maybe I can help.”
She looked at me disgusted, “I don’t have to tell you anything! The only way you can help is by leaving me alone.”
I sat there for a while not knowing what to do. I’ve never been in a situation like this before and didn’t know how to deal with a difficult teen.
She gave me a questioning look as if to ask ‘What are you still doing here?’
“Please tell me what’s wrong,” I tried again.
I really wanted to help her, but she just wouldn’t let me.
She sat up and nearly yelled at me, “Everything! Everything is wrong!”
“Everything?”
“Yes,” she was close to tears now, “I’m alone! I don’t want to be here. I want to go back to Chicago. It’s my home and I miss my best friend, my only friend.”
“You’ll make new friends and everything will get better. I promise.”
I hugged her.
She pushed me away, furiously wiping tears from her face and said, “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“I don’t.”
“You just don’t get it! It’s not about making new friends. I don’t want new friends. It’s about the fact that I left the closest person to family I have back in Chicago. Do you have any idea how it feels to have absolutely nothing? All you grown-ups think about is the fact that you supposedly know what’s best when in truth, you don’t know a damn thing. Have you ever considered how I feel? Have any of the social workers or foster families ever considered how I feel? I’ve never had a single opinion in my life on my own life.”
Finally she was letting her feelings out. It was shocking to say the least.
She pushed her face into the pillow again and almost immediately sat up again. “What the fuck do you want from me? You’re not my mother!”
I was shocked. Speechless. I left her room after that outburst. There was no need to worsen the problem by pushing her. If she didn’t want to talk then I wasn’t going to make her.
It was almost two hours later and I was painting when Jacey came into the living room. She sat quietly for a few minutes.
“I’m sorry,” she quietly apologized, “I was really mean to you. I was upset and said things that were unnecessary.”
I looked at her. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying and her hair was a mess. She was the image of a miserable teen and it hurt me to know that. She had so much potential and yet she chose to live her life in the dark.
“Jacey, I forgive you, but please talk to me the next time something is bothering you. I really just want to help.”
“I know,” she said looking down. She was obviously ashamed.
“Jacey, look at me.” She looked up. “I don’t know what happened to your parents or what you’ve been through. I know I will never be able to take your mother’s place. I just want to be your friend. I don’t have a lot of friends either as you might have noticed. We can be friends, but then you have to talk to me. I didn’t bring you here to punish you. I just want to help.”
“I know,” she nodded. “I have another confession.”
I looked at her questioningly.
“I haven’t been completely honest with you. I don’t have a lot of new friends. I don’t have any friends. It’s not the only time I’ve lied and I’m sorry, but I promise I’ll be more honest with you. I was just scared,” she confessed.
I was surprised by her sudden honesty, but appreciated it.
“It’s okay and I’ll take your word that you’ll be honest with me from now on.”
We talked a little bit after that. She told me about her past and I really felt sorry for her. I could tell that it was difficult for her to open up to me, to relive her past. She has been through a lot for such a beautiful and bright young girl. Life was cruel and unfair.
Jacey has been here for four weeks and things haven’t really improved much. I couldn’t read her at all. Sometimes she would be so relaxed and talk to me as if we’d known each other forever – at times like that I saw the real Jacey surface – but those times were minimal. In fact it’s only happened once or twice.
When I decided to take in a foster kid and was given Jacey, they warned me that she was difficult and that some of her previous foster parents sent her back to the orphanage because they just couldn’t handle her. I merely thought that she wasn’t difficult, but simply misunderstood. She was obviously very misunderstood, but only because she wouldn’t open up. She had built this huge wall around her. I’ve tried to get through to her, but to no avail. Her defences were strong which led me to believe that she’d been hurt badly in her past. She obviously didn’t trust anyone. Then again, I wasn’t all too sure if I should really trust her either. I did trust her, but I had the feeling that she was lying to me. If she was, she was really good at it.
The only reason I had to think that she was lying to me was the fact that about two weeks ago she had told me that she’d made a whole bunch of friends, yet I haven’t seen any of these friends, which had me wondering. However, I had no other reason to doubt her.
She wasn’t difficult except for the fact that she kept to herself. She had good grades, especially in art, since she’d been moved to the senior class and was still receiving straight A’s. She wasn’t rebellious, though some people might think that of her black clothing, but it didn’t bother me since it was her personal sense of style. She was always home before dark and as far as I was concerned she didn’t drink, smoke or use drugs.
She was never downright rude either. Of course she hated the fact that I got her a job at Starbucks, but I honestly believed that it was good for her. It got her out of the house so she could meet people, gain experience and earn some money. I could still remember that conversation.
Flashback
I heard the front door shut and then Jacey entered the living room. I put down the paint brush I had in my hand and turned to greet her.
“Hey, how was school?”
“Great! I made a few new friends and the teachers are really cool. Turns out I only needed to get to know them a little better.”
She was a little overenthusiastic in her response, which was very unlike her and it made me doubt what she was saying. I decided not to start a fight though and pretended to believe her.
“I’m really glad to hear that, that you are happy. It’s the closest school to my house anyway. It would have been difficult if you had to go to another school.”
The teen smiled and started walking to her room.
“Hey, wait. I have something to tell you,” I said, getting to my feet.
Jacey turned back around and looked at me expectantly. Oh boy, this was not going to go down well.
“I got you a job at Starbucks,” I informed her warily.
There was a short silence during which she gaped at me as if I had sprouted a second head.
“Excuse me.”
“I was kind of hoping that it would help you a bit. You know? Get out a little more. You’ve been here a while now, but you’ve barely gotten out. It’ll do you good to meet some people,” I explained with a small hopeful smile.
“I don’t want to.” she simply said turning away from me.
“I don’t want to force you into doing anything, but you have no choice.”
“What are you going to do if I don’t? Kick me out?” she asked defiantly.
“Of course not! But this will do you good.”
She smiled bitterly, “I doubt it.”
End flashback
The next day she was at Starbucks serving coffee. I was willing to give her all the space she needed, but for all intents and purposes, I was her parent for the time being and that meant that my word was law and she was going to work at Starbucks whether she liked it or not. Of course she didn’t speak to me after that for weeks.
I just wish she would let me in. I can’t help her if I don’t know what’s going on in her life. Currently, I didn’t know any more than the day she arrived except for the fact that she loved art. I was busy cooking dinner when I heard the front door slam, shortly followed by her bedroom door slamming. I frowned, stopped what I was doing and headed down the hall. I knocked on the door, but there was no reply. I went in and found her lying on her bed with her face in her pillow.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Nothing,” came the muffled answer.
I sat down next to her.
“You can tell me you know. Maybe I can help.”
She looked at me disgusted, “I don’t have to tell you anything! The only way you can help is by leaving me alone.”
I sat there for a while not knowing what to do. I’ve never been in a situation like this before and didn’t know how to deal with a difficult teen.
She gave me a questioning look as if to ask ‘What are you still doing here?’
“Please tell me what’s wrong,” I tried again.
I really wanted to help her, but she just wouldn’t let me.
She sat up and nearly yelled at me, “Everything! Everything is wrong!”
“Everything?”
“Yes,” she was close to tears now, “I’m alone! I don’t want to be here. I want to go back to Chicago. It’s my home and I miss my best friend, my only friend.”
“You’ll make new friends and everything will get better. I promise.”
I hugged her.
She pushed me away, furiously wiping tears from her face and said, “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“I don’t.”
“You just don’t get it! It’s not about making new friends. I don’t want new friends. It’s about the fact that I left the closest person to family I have back in Chicago. Do you have any idea how it feels to have absolutely nothing? All you grown-ups think about is the fact that you supposedly know what’s best when in truth, you don’t know a damn thing. Have you ever considered how I feel? Have any of the social workers or foster families ever considered how I feel? I’ve never had a single opinion in my life on my own life.”
Finally she was letting her feelings out. It was shocking to say the least.
She pushed her face into the pillow again and almost immediately sat up again. “What the fuck do you want from me? You’re not my mother!”
I was shocked. Speechless. I left her room after that outburst. There was no need to worsen the problem by pushing her. If she didn’t want to talk then I wasn’t going to make her.
It was almost two hours later and I was painting when Jacey came into the living room. She sat quietly for a few minutes.
“I’m sorry,” she quietly apologized, “I was really mean to you. I was upset and said things that were unnecessary.”
I looked at her. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying and her hair was a mess. She was the image of a miserable teen and it hurt me to know that. She had so much potential and yet she chose to live her life in the dark.
“Jacey, I forgive you, but please talk to me the next time something is bothering you. I really just want to help.”
“I know,” she said looking down. She was obviously ashamed.
“Jacey, look at me.” She looked up. “I don’t know what happened to your parents or what you’ve been through. I know I will never be able to take your mother’s place. I just want to be your friend. I don’t have a lot of friends either as you might have noticed. We can be friends, but then you have to talk to me. I didn’t bring you here to punish you. I just want to help.”
“I know,” she nodded. “I have another confession.”
I looked at her questioningly.
“I haven’t been completely honest with you. I don’t have a lot of new friends. I don’t have any friends. It’s not the only time I’ve lied and I’m sorry, but I promise I’ll be more honest with you. I was just scared,” she confessed.
I was surprised by her sudden honesty, but appreciated it.
“It’s okay and I’ll take your word that you’ll be honest with me from now on.”
We talked a little bit after that. She told me about her past and I really felt sorry for her. I could tell that it was difficult for her to open up to me, to relive her past. She has been through a lot for such a beautiful and bright young girl. Life was cruel and unfair.
11/15/13