1 In The Beginning

Forgetting You

Chris ran his pale hand through the dirty carpet. Sequins, hair, dust, they were definitely all in this thing somewhere, but not his earring. It was silly really. He was only 9, of course, he wouldn't be needing anything with an earring; he didn't even have his ears pierced. But alas, it was shiny and sparkly. Chris liked these kinds of things. He thought, maybe someday, he could sell them and get out of this never-ending cycle. First, he would go to a foster home, then back here, then another foster home, back here. It just went on and on. He couldn't see an end anytime soon until he aged out. Chris had given up on getting adopted into a permanent home a long time ago, but then again, he wasn't sure if he even wanted to get adopted in the first place. Chris's mother had died three years ago, when he was only six, and he was put in this group care for kids. Really this place was a group home for four to eleven-year-olds, and it was where you got put when you weren't staying in foster care, or until you got adopted. When Chris first came here, the idea of adoption seemed ludicrous. He didn't want anyone taking care of him but his mother, but she couldn't do that for him anymore. She was gone.

As Chris began to spend more time in this home, he heard more and more people discussing adoption. Children would long for it, and the chaperons talked very highly of it. And, over time, it began to have a new sort of aura to Chris. A bright, sparkly shiny one; Chris did like things that caught his eye. Adoption, to Chris, soon became less unthinkable, and more of something that he longed for, just like the other children. And so, Chris, for almost three years, longed for this day to come. But now that it was actually here, he hated it. He hated that someone could simply waltz in and claim him. He felt as if he didn't matter, as if he was something bright and shiny to his new family, just like the earring was to him.

Not to mention, Chris had friends here. Okay, well, maybe not friends plural, but on his first day at this home, he had met Mío. Mío looked nothing like him, for while Chris was short and plump, Mío was tall and lean; while Mío was Latino, and had dark, curly hair, Chris was Caucasian, and his hair was a short buzzcut. Still, they liked to joke that they were brothers. Chris and Mío had bonded instantly, for it seemed as if they were both outcasts, though this may have just been in Chris's head. Chris had never been the slimmest child. He was chubby, with rolls around his wrists, and as for Mío, well, Mío was just... Mío. He was always getting into trouble, and sometimes taking Chris down with him. Chris remembered when Mío had taken him to paint their names on the wall with him, and the time he snuck all the snacks in the fridge upstairs, allowing the pair of them to have enough energy to stay up all night, earning them extra chores for the rest of the year. Although Mío was a troublemaker, Their friendship grew and grew. Mío was definitely his best friend, probably the closest friend he'd ever had.

He and Mío both had never known their dads and had lived with only their mothers. While Chris's mother had died in a car crash, Míos had killed herself. She Shot herself in their yard, right were Mío could see. If It had been Chris's mother who killed herself, he didn't know if he could have forgiven her. Although Mío did admit that he wondered why she had done it, why she couldn't have stayed at least just for him, he didn't seem resentful. Instead, he would tell Chris stories about her. About how she used to write songs, sing, and play the guitar in the evenings in their yard; how she would make them tamales and sopaipillas when she didn't have work; how sometimes, very rarely, she would let Mío have a tiny sip of her wine. When Chris asked Mío what it had tasted like, he told Chris that it was light and sweet.

These memories Mío told Chris were so vivid, seemed so alive, that Chris felt as though he had lived these moments himself, that he had been placed in the corner of the room, watching these events unfold, just out of reach. Maybe this was because he couldn't imagine a time where he didn't have Mío as a friend. It seemed so surreal, impossible even, that they had lived in the same world, at the same time, yet didn't know the other one existed. It was like thinking of the time before you were born; to you, that time never existed, and it never will.

It seemed strange to Chris that he had lived a life with his mother, just like most children do. Of course, he had memories from the days he had lived outside of this group home, but they seemed so far off and hypnagogic that Chris had a hard time believing that they even happened.

Chris's favorite memory was of his mother; it was the new year, the only one he remembered clearly, and she had let him stay up until midnight. He remembered sitting in her lap, his belly full of cookies and cakes that she had made for this special occasion, waiting for the marble ball to drop. On the TV, he saw the reporter in time square walking around, waving at people, giving them the gift of being on TV. Chris, at the time, wished he could be in time square, with all the balloons, blinking lights, and festive people. But he was content to be hand in hand with his mother. Although the whole night's build-up was for the ball to be dropped, Chris didn't remember it happening. He just remembered being happy with his mother while they shared a special moment together.

Of course, Chris was sad that this life of his had ended, but he was glad he had come into the group home and met Mío. But He had a problem. Chris had just come back from Mrs. Toni's, the owner of this group home, office. Mrs. Toni was tall, and had long braids that fell around her waist; she had informed Chris that a family was going to foster him, which was nothing unusual. It was not uncommon for a child to be fostered for a while before being sent back here, but Mrs. Toni had told him that this family was not intending to send him back. It seemed that Chris was going to be adopted if all went well with their fostering. He had been told that this new family would be coming to meet him in a week, and they would be taking him home on a Sunday the week after. Of course, Chris's first thought was to tell Mío, for they told each other everything, but Chris was worried that Mío would be mad, or that this would hurt his feelings. Mío might be jealous of Chris. After all, he was getting adopted and Mío wasn't. Chris decided to postpone telling Mío until later... maybe the week before. Chris didn't want to be a sitting duck. He didn't want his time with Mío to be tainted with the thoughts that they would never see each other again after these weeks were over. That was when it really hit him. Chris would never see Mío again. They had no way of contact, they didn't have phones. Mío couldn't read or write in English yet which ruled out the possibility of letters. This threw Chris into a full-blown panic. He could feel cold sweat on his forehead, pouring down his back. He began to shake and he slumped down to the floor. His hands gripped his knees tightly, his knuckles turning white. He wanted to cry, he wanted to scream, but that wouldn't solve anything. The one person in his life that he truly cared about was about to be taken away from him and he couldn't do anything about it. Mío was going to be taken away from him, just like his mother.

Chris felt a strong pair of hands pull him up and steer her towards a small office he had never seen before. His panic subsided, as he was distracted, and he looked up into Mrs. Toni's eyes. Chris was sitting on a worn blue couch in a quaint little room painted a light pink. There were gadgets and gizmos on every surface. "Chris," said Mrs. Toni, "Are you upset about this new arrangement?" Chris had never really spoken to Mrs. Toni, but he couldn't hold in his feelings any longer. He nodded his head and tasted salt as a tear rolled down his nose and onto his lip. "Here, take this." Mrs. Toni slid a tissue box across the sleek wooden table towards him. Chris blew hard into the tissue. "Chris, you don't have to go. I can tell them you're not interested."

This was amazing news to Chris. He could stay with Mío after all! But then, when he thought of staying, something inside him just didn't feel right. It felt strange, imagining himself staying here. And for how long? Until he aged out? Chris wasn't sure if staying was what he wanted anymore, but then again, it felt more natural.

After a few moments of silence, Mrs. Toni spoke again.

"Look, I know what you are thinking. You most likely want to stay here, but Chris, I am telling you, if you just give this family a chance, it will open a whole new opportunity. Think long term, think about your life. Will it truly be fulfilled here? Without a family-"

"I do have a family here!" Chris shouted, jumping out of the couch. His sneakers skid on the floor, and he fell on his knees.

"I do-" and suddenly Chris couldn't hold it together anymore. He began to bawl like a much younger child, and Mrs. Toni came and put her arms around him. They sat like this for a few moments, Chris weeping in her arms. He was taken back to the days when he still had his mother. He wondered if she would have held him like this, or perhaps she already had.

"Shhhh" Mrs. Toni whispered. "It's gonna be alright, Chris. You know what the right choice is."

She slowly let go of him, and Chris wiped his eyes and mucus on his sleeve. Suddenly embarrassed and overcome, he muttered a quick "thank you" and rushed out of the office. Chris knew deep down, even before he had made the decision, what he was going to do in the end. The way Mrs. Toni had held Chris made him realize how much he longed for a loving, caring parent to hold him, and to love him. Chris was going to go home with this family.

Chris had missed dinner, he assumed Mrs. Toni must have informed someone why, so he trudged to his bed, where he sank into the cool comforter. It creaked when he rolled over, and although Chris was very tired, sleep did not come. He kept thinking of Mío again and again, and how he would be able to tell him that he was going away and that they would most likely never see each other. The home Chris was going to was all the way in Indiana, too far away for visits. Chris tossed and turned, although he must have fallen asleep at some point for he awoke in the morning. All the other children were stretching and yawning in their beds, and a few were getting dressed already. Then Chris spotted Mío's curly hair bobbing through the kids towards him. Chris quickly pulled the covers back over his head, not wanting to face the shame.

"Rise and Shine, sleepyhead!" Mío said, pulling the covers away from Chris's face.

"Aw, man, you look terrible... didn't sleep well?"

Chris nodded.

"Well, I got something that'll cheer you up... check it!" Mío took from his pocket something small and round. It sparkled in the sun, and instantly, Chris knew what it was.

"Mío! My earring! Where'd you find it?" Chris took the earring from Mío's palm.

"Well, you know that big ugly carpet in the library? it was just sitting in there. Dunno how-"

"Mío, I'm so sorry-" And Chris couldn't stop the hot tears that welled in his eyes from rolling down his face. He jumped out of his bed and hugged Mío as tightly as he could.

"Woah, Woah, man, it's just an earring, it's alright Chris, no big deal-"

"No, Mío..."

Chris looked at Mío's eyes. They were full of concern, and Chris almost couldn't say it. It didn't help that all of the other kids had stopped to watch this spectacle.

"Mío, I-"

"Hey, man it's ok-"

"I'm getting adopted."

Chris couldn't bear to look at Mío's face, but he felt Mío's grip on his shoulders slacken. He slowly lifted his head to meet Mío's eyes, and what he saw startled him. Mío, happy, carefree, Mío, had tears in his eyes. Then, Mío quickly wiped them away with the sleeve of his shirt and plastered a smile on his face.

"Chris! Why on Earth are you crying? This is great news! You're gonna have a family!"

"But Mío, you are my family!"

Mío looked down at Chris. "Look, Chris, we'll always be family. Who knows, maybe we can visit each other!"

Chris wasn't reassured. He knew that Mio didn't like the idea of him leaving any more than Chris himself did. It didn't feel right.

"Chris, how much longer do you have?"

"Huh?"

"I mean how much longer until your family comes to get you?"

"Oh..." Chris looked around and was thankful to see the other kids had stopped staring and had gotten on with their business again, making their beds and pulling clothes out of drawers.

"They won't take me until Sunday, two weeks from now."

Mío seemed to take this news well.

"Chris! That's great! We still have two weeks together? Amirite?! That's awesome!"

"Yeah.. I mean I guess that is a pretty long time..."

"Of course it is! Cmon Chris, let's make these two weeks the best we've ever had!"

And with that, Mío took hold of Chris's arm, and together they walked down to breakfast.

Chris had always thought of two weeks for a long time. It was, after all, half a month. The two weeks after his mom had died had seemed like ages; he had been in and out of foster homes and group homes before he was finally put here. But the two weeks he had left with Mío flew by as though no time was passing at all. Mío told Chris that since he was going to get adopted, he could do whatever he wanted since he would be leaving soon anyway. Of course, Chris was too scared to fully take up the opposition, but he and Mío did get into more trouble. Mío told Chris that he didn't mind the punishments, even if he got extra chores for the year; it was important to him that the last time they had together would be, in Mío's words, "extravagant." Mío loved this word; he overheard another kid saying it one night and had been saying it ever since.

Chris's favorite day was Thursday; He and Mío had woken up early and snuck out to the pond in the back, where together they had collected cattails from the bank and used them as paintbrushes, streaking muddy water on stones and pretending they were high-class artists up in France. They often played silly games like these, but never in such a location as the pond, with no rules. For that day, Chris felt free. Nothing would bother him, not even the thought that he would never play like this with Mío at his new house. When some of the chaperones came out to find them, even then, his bubble wasn't burst for he knew that while they did their laundry together, they would pretend the detergent was acid, and the tide pods were grenades. They would be on a battlefield, the sun scorching their skin while explosions rumbled the ground around them. Or maybe, they would be sailors, steering their ship through a terrible storm, salty brine lapping the side of their old wooden boat. Chris's and Mío's imagination could go on and on. It had no end, unlike their time together. The next day, Mío and Chris couldn't sneak out for they didn't want to be stuck doing chores again, but at lunch, they took apple slices and put them backward in their mouths, causing them to look like strange smiles. Mío then took his chocolate milk and Chris's apple juice and mixed them together, making a smelly, foul concoction that they dared each other to drink, although neither of them could build up the courage, resulting in much laughter and calling the other one "chicken."

One recess, Chris spotted Mío on one of the rusted blue swings in the playground. His spindly legs were dangling above the ground and in his hand, he held a small object, but Chris was too far away to tell what it could be. Mío glanced up and gave Chris his famous crooked, gap-toothed grin, and gestured for Chris to come to see what he was holding. Chris began to jog towards Mío, but his foot struck something hard, and he went tumbling, his face scraped against the mulch. He rolled over, trying to wipe the dirt and mulch from his eyes; that's when he spotted the group over children laughing at him, and he turned around to see what he had tripped over. He saw a girl a little older than him with her foot stuck out right where she had tripped him. "Hey, Trisha, you shouldn't have stopped him from running! I wanted to see his fat jiggle!" shouted a blonde-haired kid that Chris had never seen before. "Yeah, run piggy run!" was shouted from the crowd. Chris heard more and more commentary from the blonde-haired kid as he tried to get back on his feet again, but suddenly one of the kid's remarks was cut short. Chris looked over his shoulder and saw a sweeping motion, and before anyone could object or process what was happening, Mío had punched the kid square in the face. The kid staggered and fell back, spitting out a tooth. "You- you-"

But before Chris heard the rest of the sentence, Mío had grabbed Chris's grubby wrist and was pulling him away from the fight.

"Mío, I'm so sorry-" he began to say, but Mío turned back around and looked at Chris with a lopsided grin.

"I pack a pretty extravagant punch, don't I?"

Chris laughed, and Mío began to laugh with him. And before they knew it, they had both started an uncontrollable bout of laughter that only worsened when they looked at each other. Each time Chris turned to face Mío, he would see his stupid grin, and his eyes streaked with tears, and he would burst out laughing again and again.

Once the laughter subsided, Mío turned to face Chris and sighed.

"I'm gonna miss this."

"What do you mean?"

"Just... this."

Although it wasn't much to go on, Chris understood exactly what Mío meant. This was one of the last times they would laugh together, and most likely, the last time they would laugh like they had, the best kind of laughter, where there was no sign of stopping.

The next morning, Chris woke up to find that Mío was not in the bunk above him as he usually was. Confused, Chris went down the creaky wooden stairs to breakfast, figuring Mío must already be down there. Well, Chris was half right... Mío way definitely down there, but not sitting at their table. He was scrubbing pots and pans at the sink.

"Mío Cortes... what have you done now?" Chris chuckled. Mío glanced up and spotted Chris walking towards him. He laughed and said grudgingly

"My punishment, for you know, what I did yesterday. Didn't think they'd let that one slide did you?"

"I guess I never knew they found out..."

"Yeah, that blond-haired kid snitched. Oh well, in my opinion, that punch was worth a YEAR'S worth of dishwashing!"

They both laughed, and Chris waited until Mío was done so that they could find their usual spot at the large dining table.

"Chris, let's eat outside."

"We have to stay inside, remember?"

"Who cares! It's your last day here, and I'm already in trouble, what's the worst that can happen? "

Chris sighed and picked up his tray of toast.

"What are we waiting for then?"

Mío smiled, and followed Chris out the door, avoiding the table of teachers and supervisors to their left.

Mío and Chris crossed the yard, their breath turning white in the cold weather. Bundled up in their coats and gloves, they plopped down on an old steel bench behind the nursery segment of the home, where they could hear a faint echo of the crying babies through the faded brick wall.

"Chris, you know how it's your last day here?"

This was unlike Mío, his tone was solemn, and there was no grin on his face, but Chris nodded.

"Well, I wanted to give you something, to, you know... remember me by when you're older... and I know this is really cheesy but..."

Mío opened his calloused hand to reveal a quaint beaded bracelet. The beads were wooden, and it looked as if Mío had hand-carved them.

"Mío, did you make this?"

"Yeah, look closer."

Chris took the wooden bracelet and saw that there were letters in beautiful calligraphy carved on each bead. They spelled the words "remember me"

"I know, cheesy, right?" Mío chuckled.

" This is really good, Mío. When did you learn to write?"

"Oh, trust me, I'm very far from actually writing. I just asked Mrs. Whitaker, she wrote it on a paper for me to copy."

Chris smiled and slid the beaded bracelet onto his wrist.

"Thanks, Mío"

"I made one for me too, so, you know, it's like we are with each other, yeah?"

"Friendship bracelets? Now that's even cheesier!"

They both laughed on the cold bench together, until tears stung their eyes. Mío looked at Chris with a sort of sadness in his eyes and said

"We better go back inside before they realize that you're gone."

"Yeah, you're right."

And with that, Mío and Chris trudged through the wind, back into the warm building.

It was Chris's last day at the home, but it didn't feel like it. It was like any other day; he woke up, ate, chores, schoolwork, lunch, etc. Just the average day for Chris. Even Mío couldn't spend much time with Chris today, due to his new dishwashing chores. He had always expected his last day to seem special, that maybe he would appreciate the world he was in a little bit more, but there was no "sudden realization," or "huge change" in his life. It was simply an average day. That night, Chris walked up the wooden stairs for the last time to the dorm where he sat down on his bunk. All his clothes and bedding were packed into plastic trash bags, and Mío's bracelet was on his wrist. When he lay down to sleep, he found he slept easily and peacefully. Was this wrong of him? He felt as if he should be worried, scared, feel some sort of emotion, but no matter how much he told himself what was happening tomorrow morning, it never really sunk in. So, he went to bed.

The next morning, Chris awoke to Mrs. Toni shaking his shoulder.

"Come downstairs, Chris. Your new foster family will be driving you to the airport in an hour."

Chris was confused, he felt as if this was happening too suddenly, then he remembered. He was supposed to meet them before this... wasn't he?

"Mrs. Toni, how come I never met them last week, like you said I would?"

"They live rather far, and they told me that their car had broken down. But trust me baby, we have looked into this family, and they are good people. I wouldn't send you off with just anyone, now would I?"

Chris forced a smile, got dressed in his best outfit, and brushed his teeth before allowing her to lead him down to breakfast.

Chris was the only one at the dining table, for all of the kids were still asleep. He thought about Mío, sleeping peacefully in his bed. He knew Mío wouldn't want him to pity his situation, but he couldn't help it. Would Mío ever get adopted? Fostered even? Although they were only eight, most parents looking to adopt went for the newborns, and when you grew to be a teenager, it became extremely unlikely. Mío might have to age out. Chris shook his head, he was getting way ahead of himself. Mío would certainly get adopted, who wouldn't like him? And besides, he was still young.

Chris finished the last of his breakfast and looked out the window. There it was. His new life. A blue Nisan was parked on the side of the street, with balloons stuck on it's trunk. He saw signs taped to the windows. "Welcome Chris!" in bright neon colors was scrawled on the poster board. Despite everything, Chris smiled. These people wanted him, and they were welcoming him. Chris had never been one to speak up, he was always the quiet chubby kid. He would go along with anything just to avoid standing out or having people look at him, but this time... he didn't mind. Chris closed his hand around his bag and walked out of his home for the last time.

The next chapter will skip- when Chris is 16. Hope you enjoyed!