Personal Narrative: My First Foster Home

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I heard a loud sound coming towards my house, I knew exactly what it was even though I never heard it before. My grandma and mom rushed me and my two younger sisters to the upstairs bathroom with the window overlooking the driveway. I looked down to see my mom holding my baby brother, my grandma next to her, and a driveway full of police cars and black SUVs. My grandma came upstairs to get us and the three of us followed her without saying a word. She led us down to the driveway and handed us off to a waiting lady. My mom didn’t have my brother anymore, and we were being instructed into a car. The door shut and I instantly fell asleep. When I woke up, it was just after midnight and we were still in the car. I tried to move as little as possible but I also had to see if my sisters were in the backseat.
The house I was born into was a mess. My mom and grandfather
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When they first got us they talked about something called church and I had never heard of it before, I hadn’t seen one as far as I knew and I never set foot inside of one. Our foster parents made sure all of our needs were filled even if it wasn’t easy, cause let’s be honest, I was a brat back then. Our foster mom would get us up in the morning, get us ready for school and then wait outside no matter what the weather was like until the bus came, she would watch until we were safely on the bus and the she would wave and walk inside. I felt so safe where we were and I didn’t want to leave. The two girls that were there with us went back to live with their mom after a while. I got really close with our foster brother while we lived there. He and I would go on lunch dates once a month. After about a year of living with them, our foster mom lost a toenail and she was taken to a hospital. They ended up having to cut her toe off and about a month later she was deemed unfit to take care of us and we were moved to a new