Dark History - Kiana's Worst Foster Home

Eight years ago

***

The woman hugged Kiana. “You’re going to be the daughter I never had!”

Kiana doubted it. A lot of foster parents had expressed similar sentiments when she first arrived in their homes, she was nobody’s daughter except for that drug addict that gave her and her brother up. She had even lost her brother in the system over the years. The angry redhead was alone. The house was nicer than most of the places Kiana had lived so far, her foster father was a well-respected youth pastor and her foster mother worked in a firm, exactly what the firm was Kiana never understood, but it paid her well. The house was huge with many bedrooms, but just the two of them. They had no children, could not have children.

Kiana thought this would only be a temporary home, like all the other foster families. She kept most of her clothes in her suitcase. She attended the local high school where she managed to make a few friends despite already being a Junior. Her foster father was helpful with her homework and her foster mother was kind and braided her hair. Weeks passed and it started to feel as much like a home as anywhere ever did. Kiana gradually began transferring clothes from her suitcase to the fancy dresser she was given.

Kiana liked hanging out with her friends, there were three of them, sort of outcasts which was probably why they were so quick to make friends with a newcomer to their school. One Friday night she was hanging out with her friends at one of their homes when their parents were not home. Another friend had smuggled a beer from their own home. None of them, including Kiana, had ever drank before. So as little as it was, just a single warm beer split among four teenage girls, it was a big deal. Kiana thought she was more drunk than she actually was, which was not drunk at all really. It was just an excuse to be silly kids having a good time. When the parents’ car pulled into the driveway there was panicked giggling as they chugged down the last of the beer so they could crush and hide the can.

Kiana acted extra casual as she said good night to her friend’s parents. She walked her other friends home, her own fancy home was the furthest away so she walked the last blocks alone. It was well past curfew when she finally got home and it looked like her foster parents had already gone to bed. Thinking she escaped trouble, Kiana silently went to her room and got changed into a simple T-shirt and draw-string shorts- her usual pajamas. She heard footsteps and thinking it was her foster mother Kiana jumped into bed and pulled the covers over herself, pretending to have been in bed for a long time and asleep as her door creaked open. Kiana could see the light from the hall through her shut eyelids as her foster parent paused, she could feel their eyes on her. Then the door slowly closed, latching quietly. But Kiana could feel that she was not alone in the room. Like a much younger kid she continued to pretend to be asleep.

Until she felt his hands slipping under her covers.

Kiana’s eyes popped open and she sat up. “What the fuck?!”

It was not the foster mother, it was the foster father. He smiled and made a shushing gesture. “Quiet, you don’t want to wake her. Don’t worry. I’m going to let you get away with drinking with your friends. You turn sixteen next month- I’ll give you a car.”

“No fucking way!” Kiana started screaming. No words that she could recall later, just screaming like she was being murdered. She jumped out of bed, bolted around him and out into the hallway. Her foster mother came out of the master bedroom looking sleepy and confused.

“What’s going on?” She asked.

Before Kiana could switch from wordless screaming the foster father spoke fast. “Kiana was drinking and is angry that I grounded her.”

Kiana found her words. “No! Your husband’s a fucking pervert!” She ran into the kitchen and picked up the phone. She called 911.

“911, what’s the location of your emergency?”

Kiana rattled off the address. “My foster father just tried to rape me!”

“I did not do anything of the sort!” The foster father objected. “I didn't even touch her! I just told her she is grounded for missing curfew and drinking.”

Kiana stayed on the phone until the police arrived, which felt like forever. The foster mother did not say much but made coffee. The foster father protested his innocence and claimed she was just overreacting to being grounded. Kiana grabbed one of the knives from the knife block and both foster parents kept the hell away from her. She was still holding the knife when she opened the door for the police- which probably was not the best idea. The cops shouted at her to drop the knife and it went downhill from there.

“Are you who called?” The first cop asked after taking the knife.

“Yeah, he’s in the kitchen.”

The second cop looked at Kiana, making her feel like her pajama shorts were too short. “You don’t look too roughed up.”

Kiana hugged her arms and led the police into the kitchen.

“I’m sorry for the bother officers.” The foster father said. “She has a troubled past and has been in and out of a dozen homes before we took her in. She stayed out past curfew drinking so I grounded her. She learned what happens when she crosses our boundaries and is trying to avoid paying any consequences by crying rape.”

“No! He tried to rape me!”

The cops and the foster father exchanged smirks.

“Where did this happen?” The first cop asked patronizingly.

Kiana showed one of the cops her bedroom while the other stayed in the kitchen with her foster parents. The cop did not look impressed, flipping back the blankets on her bed. “No blood, no semen. You look fine. All you have is your word against his.”

“He did try. He said if I kept quiet he would get me a car.”

The cop laughed. “You foster kids are the biggest liars, holy shit, wow, you did your homework. Here’s some advice kid- lay off the booze. It’s only going to ruin your life faster.”

With that the cop walked back to the kitchen, where the other cop was laughing with the foster father, her foster mother seemed to have gone back to bed.

“But do the carpets match the drapes?” The cop asked the foster father, who laughed.

“Nothing went on in that bedroom.” the first cop said.

“I thought so.” The second cop pointed at Kiana. “False rape accusations are a serious thing. Why can’t you just be a good girl and behave yourself? You have a nice home here.”

And just like that the police left.

Kiana did not sleep that night, she propped a chair under the doorknob of her room. She planned on calling her social worker first thing in the morning to get out of there, but her foster mother beat her to it. That morning when Kiana left her room to get the phone she overheard her foster mother asking to have “that disturbed young woman” out of her home.