The Unsaid Stuff (Rosie, 8 Years)
They know the truth about what happened. They think I’ve forgotten but I haven’t. I remember everything. I saw everything. They haven’t told Sarah, so why should I? I bet they are planning something and it won’t be good for me.
They didn’t get us out. They didn’t care about us. Now they keep telling us to trust them. What a joke!
I was angry today. Sarah told me that she knows I’m a brave girl and that the social worker had told her all about me before I came to stay here. I asked her what the stupid social worker had said. Apparently, I’m very brave and grown-up for my age, get on well with adults, always smiling, love shopping, food and playing dressing-up with makeup, etc. Who is she talking about?
This isn’t who I am. I hate adults. I only like shopping with my foster parent so I could get what I wanted. I wore makeup to stop adults treating me like a baby! I do love food though, so at least they got something right!
And I wasn’t brave. I couldn’t save everyone, so that’s not very brave is it?
I NEVER smile…
I need to show Sarah that she got it wrong. The social worker is stupid and I can’t even remember her stupid name! Maybe her name is actually “Stupid”. Ha ha.
As the day moved on, I got more and more and more angry. Why does she keep calling me “darling”?
I am not a darling.
I proved it this evening when I told her that I didn’t like her stupid dinner (even though I ate it), and stomped off up to my room, slamming all the doors. Sarah wasn’t happy at all and shouted very loudly, “Get back here, young lady, and don’t you dare slam the doors like that”.
I feel much better now. At least I don’t think she’s tricking me any more by pretending that she thinks I’m nice…and brave.
I am not nice…and I wasn’t brave. But I AM fierce.
Stupid social worker.