The Werelion's Kitty

Sandie looked at the sleeping baby in her arms and felt multiple emotions. The two most powerful were anger at the man who raped her at the age of fifteen and sorrow at not being able to keep her daughter. She lived on the street and knew from experience that it was no place for a child.

When she found out she was pregnant, Sandie spoke to the doctor at the free clinic to see what options she had. She decided the best thing to do was put her baby up for adoption. It was one of the hardest decisions she'd ever made, but she knew it was for the best. Her daughter would have a good life with a loving family.

Sandie looked into her daughter's face and wondered if she would have the same red hair and green eyes as she did. She had met the parents who were adopting her baby, and she felt confident they would give her a good home.

"If I could keep you safe, I would take you with me. I have no home or money and no way to care for you. I only want what's best for you, and I hope this isn't goodbye forever. I want to see you again when you're ready. I love you, little girl." Sandie kissed the baby's head as her tears fell silently.

When there was a knock on the door, Sandie started sobbing. It was time to hand over her baby. She had insisted on having an open adoption, so if her daughter wanted to find her later, she could. She kissed her soft cheek and hugged her little girl as she wept. The only thing that gave her comfort was that maybe she would get to see that angel face again someday.

Sixteen years later ...

Sixteen-year-old Kittana was running through the streets, trying to get away from her foster father. She had just moved in with this family, and after the first night, she knew she had to get out of there. While everyone was eating breakfast, she had thrown her things back into the garbage bag that she'd brought them in.

Kittana thought she had successfully snuck out, but just as she was jumping off the front porch, she heard Peter yell for her. She didn't look back as she ran away from the house as fast as she could. He had tried to touch her almost as soon as she got to the house yesterday. The only thing that stopped him was his wife walking into the room and smacking Kittana for trying to entice her husband.

Kittana was short and petite at five feet. She had long dark reddish brown hair, pale green eyes, and a creamy white complexion. She'd been in foster care since she was four and could pick up on a bad situation. She knew this family was not one she wanted to stay with.

Kittana had been adopted as a baby, but her adoptive parents divorced. Neither wanted to keep her, so she was put into the foster care system. She couldn't even remember what they looked like or their names. Kittana had been passed around through so many homes she'd lost count, and the faces of those she'd lived with all ran together.

As she continued running down the street, Kittana risked a glance behind her and noticed that Peter was no longer following her. She went into the nearest convenience store and asked to use the phone. The cashier was hesitant, but when Kittana flashed him a sweet smile, he gave in. She dialed the number of Sarah, her caseworker.

"Hello?" Sarah asked into the phone.

"Sarah, it's Kitty. This home isn't going to work. Peter started touching me, and Violet slapped me because she said it was my fault." She stopped talking, knowing Sarah wouldn't be happy with her taking off.

"Kitty, where are you now?" Sarah sighed. She'd hoped this home would be a good fit for Kitty. Peter and Violet had good reviews and fostered many teenagers.

"I'm at a store a few blocks away. Peter chased me, but I was able to get away. Can you pick me up, or do you want me to come to you?" Kittana watched as the young man behind the counter turned to help a customer. She stuck a few candy bars in her jacket pocket while he was occupied.

"I'll come and get you. What's the name of the store?" Kittana gave her the name and agreed to stay put until Sarah got there.

Sarah grabbed her purse and keys before heading out the door. She'd been Kittana's caseworker for over ten years and cared for her like a little sister.

When she pulled up to the store, Kitty ran outside. Sarah smiled as Kitty jumped into the car, handing her a candy bar. She didn't bother asking how she got it because Sarah was sure she wouldn't like the answer.

"Thanks, Sarah. You know I can't deal with another dirtbag like that. There have been too many already. Maybe it's better if I just live on the streets for a while." Kitty looked out the window as they drove toward Sarah's office. She didn't mind making it on the street; it was better than some of the homes she'd been placed in.

"Kitty, I'm going to try and prevent that from happening. I'm sorry about what Peter and Violet did. I'll have an investigation started. If they did that to you on your first day, then I'm sure they've done it to others." Sarah looked over at Kitty and saw tears in her eyes. She couldn't imagine how she felt, feeling as though there was no safe place to go.

"Sarah, when I get older, do you think it would do any good to try and find my birth parents? I'd like to know where I came from and why they didn't want me." Kitty continued looking out the window as they drove through San Francisco.

She had thought about her parents a lot but never talked about them. Kitty didn't know why they threw her away like she was nothing. She had seen kids taken out of their parent's homes because of abuse or drugs, but at least their parents wanted them. Her parents gave her away when she was a baby. Kitty thought maybe something was wrong with her, which is why nobody wanted her.

"That's a decision only you can make. Sometimes circumstances are out of the parent's control. If you want to search for them, you have to be prepared for multiple scenarios. They may not want to be found or accept your outreach. It's possible they may not be alive anymore. Any number of things could happen, but I fully support you in wanting to know where you came from."

Kitty thought about what Sarah said and decided she wanted to find her parents regardless of the outcome. If they didn't want anything to do with her, at least she'd tried. Hopefully, they regretted ever getting rid of her and wanted to be part of her life.

Kitty sat in one of the chairs in the waiting area of the foster care agency. She could hear Sarah arguing with her manager, and Kitty knew it was about her. She didn't care, as long as she didn't have to go back to that house. Sarah walked out of the office and over to Kitty.

"Kitty, come with me." Sarah had her follow her into her office, where she shut the door.

"We don't have any other houses available right now. You'll have to either go to the detention center until something opens up or go back to Peter and Violet's house." Sarah didn't tell Kitty that the argument she'd had with her manager was about taking her home with her. Even though she lived in a tiny studio apartment, it was better than some of the alternatives.

"I'll go to the detention center. At least they have some order, and everyone basically leaves me alone." Kitty didn't have to put much thought into her decision.

She'd been raped by both men and women in the different homes she'd stayed in. Kitty had been hit so many ways with various objects that she couldn't even name them all. She thought of the detention center almost like a jail for unhomed foster kids. Still, it was better than going back to Peter and Violet's house.

Sarah drove Kitty to the detention center with a knot in her stomach. She hated taking kids there. Usually, it was reserved for kids with behavior problems that caused harm to their foster parents, other kids, or themselves.

Sometimes kids like Kitty ended up there when there was nowhere else for them to go. Sarah knew Kitty had been there several times and never complained, but leaving her still broke her heart. After dropping her off, Sarah returned to the office while Kitty was taken through the intake process.

Late that night, Kitty was lying on her bunk looking out the little window high on the wall. She had a lot of dreams for the future, but the most important one was survival. If she made it to her eighteenth birthday, she would be done with the foster care system and be on her own. Just twenty-two months to go, and she would be free.