My life is a zoo
This is not a real life story, it's based off a dream. It's about a boy who was abused by his father and is fostered by two police. There's a catch though, his foster parents own a small zoo. Balancing love, risk, and fear in one life is hard, especially when you're only 13.
Meet the parent
My bare feet grip the ground as I stand in the kitchen of my house. My face is bloody and bruised. My dad punches me again, this time landing a punch on my eye. I stumble backwards and regain my balance. I want to fight back, but I know better. Ever since my mom died, my father has been abusive. Waiting till he is in the comforts of his own home to abuse me. My eye throbs, beating like a heart. It makes it hard to see and I'm sure that it will be swollen tomorrow. My dad goes for another punch as I hear someone pound on the door.Â
"NYPD! Open the door!"
My dad glares at me, suspecting I ratted him out. I wish I had cause at that moment, his expression was priceless.Â
"Go upstairs. Now."
I hear the police knock again. Yet I'm drawn to see what happens, I obey my father and trudge upstairs to the attic where I live. I look out my window and see the police kicking the door open. I close my eyes as I hear gunshots. I hope they shot him. I settle into the corner of the room my head angled so that I could see whoever enters through the door.Â
"Search the house! Look for a boy, about 13!" someone yells.Â
After a few minutes, I hear footsteps climbing up the stairs, about two people I think. I brace myself as the door creaks open. First a foot appears, then two pairs of feet. I look up from the floor for a second to study them. The woman looks about 38, with straight brown hair and dull green eyes. Her head almost reaches to the man's nose, showing she was a few inches shorter. The man looked around the same age. His golden hair was the same color as mine, his eyes a shady grey. The woman took a tentative step towards me and crouched down to meet my eyes.
"Hello. I'm Detective Taylor Lewis. What's your name?"Â
"Sam Meyer," I say in a small voice.Â
"Are you 13?"Â
I give a small nod.
"I have a daughter your age. Her name is Â Â Â Charlotte. But everyone calls her Charlie."Â
"Is he dead?" I whisper in a small voice.Â
Taylor gives me a sympathetic look.Â
"No sweetie, he got away. But I promise we'll protect you."
I shake my head.Â
"You don't understand. He's a sociopath. He told me if I ever turned him in he would hunt me down and kill me," I recall.
She moves closer to me and helps me off the floor.Â
"Let's get you out of here."Â
The man, whose name I learned was Keith, steered my outside near a police car.Â
"Be careful in the back, my dog's back there," he warns as I crawl into the car.Â
As I sit down, a large German shepherd jumps onto my lap. I smile. I used to have a dog when I was about 5.Â
"What's his name?" I ask Keith.Â
He looks at me through the rearview mirror.Â
"Barney. Funny name, right?"Â
I smile again and continue petting Barney. Barney stares out the window and starts growling. I turn my head. I see a man standing on the side of the road. He has blonde hair. My father. He's there for a moment but as I blink, he fades from the scenery. I don't mention it to Keith, thinking it was an illusion. I lean my head against the window.Â
"What do you mean no?" Keith says into his phone.Â
"He's an orphan now and he needs Witness Protection Program." Keith says calming, although on the inside I'm sure he's exploding in anger.Â
"Fine," he snaps, "But he's still an orphan so we're going to be his foster parents."
"Yes, goodbye Detective," he says before ending the call.
He looks back to me.Â
"Good news, Sam. We're going to my house."
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