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When I was sixteen I was thrown into foster care after my mother Od’d on heroin. My life up until then was no pretty picture, but at least I had a roof over my head thanks to the section eight housing she’d been smart enough to get during one of her better stages.

My life consisted of school, home and dodging the shady characters in my neighborhood in between those two places. I was very focused, because I knew that I had only one way out, a degree of some kind.

My hopes weren’t too high. I never allowed myself to dream beyond my meager means, just something a little better than what I’d known is all I was hoping for. So I learned from an early age to avoid bad company and stay focused in school.

My friends were very few, mostly the rejects who nobody wanted to sit with because they weren’t considered popular enough. Those are the ones I gravitated towards.

I wanted nothing to do with my mother’s lifestyle and though I loved her, because she was my mom, I couldn’t wait to get away from her. But I didn’t want it to happen this way.

I’d always dreamed that one day I’d make it out and come back for her, get her the help she so desperately needed. I’ve seen the pictures of her when she was younger, before she had me.

And I could believe her when she said whenever she got pissed at me, that I had destroyed her life. Mom used to be beautiful, exceptional even and it had led her down the wrong path at an early age.

She claims she became wild at fifteen because she wasn’t getting the love and attention she needed at home, so she sought acceptance from others, mostly men. Any guy that told her she was beautiful she went to bed with.

My father is an unknown face in the crowd. Some guy she hooked up with at a bar where she was pretending to be older than she was. He was visiting from out of town and took her back to his hotel room and fucked her into the early morning.

From the stories she told when she was too high to know she shouldn’t be sharing, she told the same tale over and over again. Men were always so enamored of her they couldn’t help themselves.

Young or old, it didn’t matter. She believed she had this power over men that made them all want to jump into bed with her. I’d sit there transfixed and just a little nauseous as she regaled me with the sordid details.

I hated those times when she’d give me these little X rated glimpses into her past. They made me uncomfortable because I was afraid that one day I might turn out just like her. It scared me so much I was terrified to even hold hands with a boy.

I lived in fear of myself, because of the way people looked at me, talked about me. From the time I reached fifteen everything in my life changed. That summer I grew up I guess you can say.

My breasts went from a nondescript A-cup to a C almost overnight and my baby fat that I’d worked tirelessly to get rid of without much success suddenly disappeared on its own. Even my face looked different. Smaller, more defined.

It was the first time I saw the resemblance to mom the way she used to be. My body changed in more ways than one that summer. Not only outwardly but also on the inside.

I started getting these urges especially in the shower when I washed between my legs or my hands brushed against my nipples. I was so confused. Confused, scared and alone.

I couldn’t talk to mom because she was hardly ever around. And there was no way I was gonna ask my friends and teachers were out. Most of mine were male and they were all pervs with shady reputations among the seniors.

The only difference is, that year I became one of their many targets. So there I was learning things about my body through trial and error and scared out of my mind that if I even looked too hard at a boy I’d get pregnant.

Meanwhile my body was going out of control and this only added to the fear. It was right in the middle of this internal warfare that mom died, leaving me more alone than before.

She might not have been much of a mother but just knowing she was there had always added some comfort.

Then I was alone, no family since mom was a runaway whose parents never found her if they’d even tried and of course there was no name under father on the birth certificate.

Everyone knew that older kids were never taken in as easily as the babies, but no one was going to adopt someone my age anyway so it didn’t matter.

I just needed a place to stay with a halfway decent family for the next two years and then I’d be gone.

I didn’t have much expectations. What I knew about the foster care system is what I’d seen on the news over the years and it was never good. Thankfully I was old enough to defend myself and wasn’t afraid of being beaten to death or scalded in the bathtub.

The first three months in the home were hell. Twenty strangers in a room, some of them from even worse circumstances than my own.

I had to change schools because of zoning and my new school was a cesspit, but I still applied myself same as before.

I was counting down the days until I turned eighteen and could get out of there. I even considered running away but was too scared to go through with it. The streets from the stories some of the other girls who’d ran away before told me, were much worst.

So, between witnessing beastly fighting between some of the others and constantly having to secure my stuff so it wouldn’t be stolen I kept myself busy with my schoolwork and stayed out of the way.

Then one day the city decided to let the local news station do a segment on the home and the conditions there.

We weren’t told anything more than that and that we’d better be on our best behavior and have our areas cleaned up.

I did my best to stay hidden while all the others were vying for attention, and maybe that’s why the reporter sought me out and chose to interview me.

I tried declining but the matron gave me one of her stern looks and I knew that if I didn’t agree they’d be hell to pay once the cameras left.

I’d seen her and some of the other girls eyeing me and whispering behind their hands and was afraid I was the target of some conspiracy or other. I had a good idea what that was about. It was my face, my body my looks.

Some of the others had told me that some of the rougher girls hated me because I pretended to be this perfect little angle when I was no better than them. Something I never even considered.

I’d tried only once to make amends, but when I was threatened with acid in my face I figured it out. It’s true I did take more care with my hygiene and always made sure I was neatly dressed even though I had only rags to wear.

I’d come to love my new body in the past year after accepting that it was who I am, and now, instead of fear when men and boys noticed me, I just felt admired. Though I still wasn’t willing to do anything about it.

My hair was a riot of wild black curls that fell below my waist and in my much thinner face it was easy to see the almond slant of my brown eyes.

I knew I was pretty, knew that my body gave men ideas and made women envious, but if they only knew how innocent I was of the things they thought of me.

That day after the look of death from the matron I agreed to the interview. Not that I had a choice. She’d proven time and again that she could be monstrous in her punishments for the least little slight.

She was one of those women who just hated me for no other reason than I was more beautiful than she’d ever be. As if I had anything to do with it.

We sat in the main office alone and I don’t know how she did it, but the reporter got me to tell her my whole life story. She even looked at my school reports, taking notes of everything as she went.

I didn’t think anything of it after she left. In fact she hadn’t done me any favors since the other girls took offense to me being the only one singled out to do a sit down.

It didn’t matter that I had nothing to do with it. They saw what they wanted to see. For two weeks I had to evade my more spiteful adversaries the best I could because of all the attention I got after that piece aired.

If only they knew how much I hated it. Hated having my life exposed to the world, pathetic. Or so I thought until I was called into the office one day after school.

It was a day like any other, nothing special. I’d spent the day taking tests because we were being let out for the summer in a few weeks.

My only thoughts as I went into the dorm like room I shared with the others to put away my stuff was that I was one more year closer to getting out.

I’d been told a few weeks earlier by my counselor that I was doing so well I might be able to graduate early. I was on top of the world, though I wondered how much that news segment had to do with her sudden interest in my record.

I had just dropped my bag and was about to wash the street grime off my face when one of the bullies came to get me. “They want you in the office bitch.”

My tummy started to tremble with fear. Was she telling the truth or was this some trick to get me out of the room so she could hurt me? And if it wasn’t, what infraction would the warden concoct this time as an excuse to punish me?

“I’ll be right down I need to use the restroom.” When she just rolled her eyes and walked away I breathed easy again and hurried to go clean up before heading down to the office.

“Yes matron?” I opened the door after knocking and being told to come in. Her smile threw me off until I noticed the other people in the room. It was a man and a woman in their early thirties or late twenties I wasn’t sure.

They were both gorgeous. The woman was a pale blonde with wide blue eyes and the clearest complexion I’d ever seen outside of a retouched magazine. She was tiny too, maybe a foot or tow shorter than my five-three.

And the man, well he looked like someone every young girl with a heartbeat would have naughty dreams about at night.

He was clean shaven, except for a thin beard, and under his suit jacket it was obvious that he was built, he also towered over her by a foot.

I didn’t look at him too long but took one last look at the woman wishing I could look like that with her designer wear and her porcelain skin, before turning my attention to the matron.

“Hello Dakota, why don’t you come in and have a seat? How was school today, you did well on your test I’m sure.”

“Yes ma’am I think I did.”

I tried not to show any surprise in my voice because I wasn’t dumb enough not to know that she was trying to impress this couple for whatever reason.

So I took the seat across from her, where I’d never been allowed to sit any of the handful of times I’d been summoned here before.

“This is Mr. and Mrs. Stone.”

“Evan.” He held out his hand for me to shake and I took it shyly.

“Natalia.”

“Wow.” I took her hand and stared at her with what I’m sure was a star struck expression.

“What?” Her smile was warm and inviting.

“Your voice, I mean your accent, it’s beautiful.” She smiled at her husband and turned back to me. “Thank you, it’s Italian, but I’ve been here so long I’ve begun to lose it.”

“Oh no you shouldn’t, it’s so much better than ours.” Now it was his turn to laugh and somehow the two of them made me feel relaxed and comfortable.

“Well, the reason I asked you here Dakota is because the Stones here saw the program and are interested in a trial run.” I didn’t know what she was talking about at first. A trial run?

“If that’s okay with you that is.” Mr. Stone interjected. He must’ve noticed my look of confusion and rushed to explain.

“Natalia and I were very moved by your story, and we’ve decided we’d like to offer you a home with us if that’s okay with you.”

I looked at the matron not quite believing that it was real, or that she’d let me leave with them. I braced myself for the punch line because surely this was another one of her jokes at my expense.

It was obvious that they were wealthy. I knew she’d never want that for me. She’d told me often enough that I didn’t deserve anything better than the life I used to have. She was sure I’d end up as nothing more than a drugged out whore like my mom. Something she was fond of saying.

“Would you like that Dakota?” It was him again. I looked over at them as they held hands and looked at me as if my answer really mattered. I nodded my head absently not quite believing still but not wanting to mess up in case this was real.

“Well I’ve written up the necessary paperwork, why don’t you go gather your things Dakota, you’ll be leaving right away. The Stones insisted.” I left the room in a daze still not quite sure what was going on.

All the way to the room and back I prayed that nothing would go wrong to change things. I had a million questions as to why they’d chosen me. I knew there were much younger kids here that would do just as well for a couple that young.

Were they perverts perhaps? Looking for someone to take part in their twisted games? The Internet had taught me quite a bit about the seedier side of life. Even more than I’d seen while watching my mother’s life spiral out of control.

I didn’t get the creep vibe from either of them though but who knows? Maybe they were just very good at hiding it. If that’s the case and it turns out they had less than good intentions then I’d just leave first chance I get.