We'd first met Chase when he was two-and-a-half. He had wandered off the street and into our house. I was washing dishes when his little body walked over to the refrigerator and opened it, his mouth dropping open. "Can I have something to eat?" he garbled in typical two-year-old fashion.
"Where are your parents?" was all I could say. Eventually, I learned dad had been out of the picture since before he was born. He only showed up to beat on mom. Mom had serious mental health issues, but refused to seek help.
We adopted Chase in our hearts. We watched him grow from a toddler to a teenager, frequently providing what his parents chose not to. He dropped out of school and was working full-time to support his mother. It was admirable, but he should have been enjoying his senior year and visiting colleges.
"What can we do?" I asked my husband as we digested the facts.
*** Prompt provided by One Minute Writer***
When I first read this I was stuck by the sadness of it.
ReplyDeleteI think it could be a bigger piece.
I know they call it Fiction Friday, but there are a lot of truthful elements in this and just as many false ones. Chase is a real boy who wandered into my house when he was just a toddler and who had little supervision. He use to love playing with Koffie and was very sad to hear she had died a year ago last fall.
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