Home is not a house

Chapter 1

Tw (for overall book but will put singular triggers at start of each chapter)

Abuse, suicide idolization, self harm, yelling, cursing, and fighting

Tw for this chapter: Mention of drugs, loss of a parent, talk of abuse and bruises

"Well he is a problem child."

"I can still hear you."

"Thomas hush"

"Name isn't Thomas"

"Well Tommy hush! Wait until I'm off the phone to argue with me please!"

"Fine Puffy."

Tommy crossed his arms and began to pout like a child. This was so stupid, why was she acting like he isn't there? Why was she so annoying? Why was she forcing him to another home. He didn't want to go, he was perfectly fine back in the group homes.

Tommy had grown up in the foster system, he had lost his mother when he was 3 and his dad didn't even know he existed (not that it mattered, from what his file said his father is a drug addict who has been in and out of prison more times than you could count on your fingers and toes)

Tommy also had been out of places too. He had been to 36 different foster homes in 12 years, that averages out to 3 a year, but then you forget he had been in the group homes 36 times as well. Most of that was since he turned 10. The last 5 years he had slept in 41 different beds, since when he went back to group homes he was always in another room.

He knew that at some point he would age out of the system, 3 more years till he was 18. His last foster family engraved it in his head that he would age out before being offered to be adopted. In his defense he had been offered adoption, twice before. Once when he was 7 and once when he was 10.

Puffy was finally off the phone and she turned to look at Tommy.

"Okay, Thomas what did you need." She asks sweetly. Tommy glared at her, knowing it was hard to be mad at her but he couldn't help it.

"I don't like it when you just make choices for me." Tommy mutters.

"I am your social worker Thomas, it is my job." She reminds him, pulling out of the parking space they were parked in. "Do you have your bag?" She questions. The kick of his bag told her that he did have it. "Okay. Do you want me to tell you about the family or wait till you can meet them?"

"Meet them." Tommy mumbled again and she nodded as they hopped on the interstate. They drove for a while, the whole drive Tommy didn't speak out of anger. She just had to drag him away from the group home again. Tommy wanted to stay there instead of "trying to find the perfect place." You could only hear

"I think these ones are the one"

So many times before you go crazy. And so far he had heard it 18 times in the past 3 years.

They soon were pulling into a driveway of a huge house. Tommy wanted to stare it for a moment, and if he wasn't rushed out of the car maybe he would be able to get a good look at the home. It was a two story with a huge garage and what looked like a huge back yard.

As soon as they got out of the car a front door opened, who ever was on the other side obviously waited for them to pull up. Tommy noticed that it wasn't just one person but three people. A short man with blonde hair, a tall man with brown hair and glasses, and another tall man with pink long hair.

"Hello!" The blonde one called. Puffy smiled as they walked up the front path.

"Hello Mr. Watson! How are you doing today?" Puffy asked.