It all happened when I was about 13 years old. It was close to midnight, and I was soundlessly sleeping along with my two younger sisters. Then, one of them shook me awake while saying, “Destiny, wake up. Becca is crying.” Becca is the name of my stepmom. It was the first time I had ever heard her cry. Feeling confused, I put my ear against the wall. What did I hear? Well…

”I can’t do this, I really can’t.” She was saying the same thing over and over again to my dad. My sister and I looked at each other in confusion before lying back down. Surely, things settled down and everything was going to be alright; am I right?

Or so I thought.

A few moments later, my stepmom opened the bedroom door and what she said next made me feel unsettled butterflies in my stomach. Two social workers were standing at the opened apartment door with cops. I don’t think I need to explain myself for you to know what happened, ANDDDDD yet I’m going to anyway!

 Don’t judge, it’s humor!

 My sisters and I (along with my two little stepbrothers) were getting taken away into the foster care system. Tears rolled down my face as if I was a 5-year-old, and my heart beat like a drum in my chest when I was taken into that large black van and driven off. I still remember that last words from my dad during that time: “The more you cry, the longer it will take for us to get you back.”

Now, there can be two possible explanations for my story: One, I was in danger and needed to get out of my dad’s house; or two, this all happened for no reason. You’re probably thinking of the first option, and I have to be honest, that’s not a surprise. Let me explain what REALLY happened here. There were 11 “witnesses” who did not like my dad. So, they all got together and came up with a bold-face lie saying that I was in danger.

No, I was not!

In no way, shape, or form, was I in any danger at all. Even to this day, it still makes me sad just thinking about what those people did and it was all just to emotionally hurt those I care about. Ugh … the audacity!

The woman who I was sent to live with was not bad, and it seemed like luck was on my side. A few months went by, and she no longer was able to care for us due to constantly being busy. Soooooo, it was time to change homes again.

The next family was a bit large in size, with 3 adults and 5 children. Everything was good … at first. Time went on, getting chaotic. Fights and arguments broke out and the kids (the oldest of that family was around my age at the time) would get physical sometimes. Running around inside the house became an occasional thing and it got to the point where no one wanted to listen to each other.

 However, no matter what, I didn’t lose hope.