You might have heard of me. On July 4th, 1976 my mother gave birth to me secretly in the back of a Greyhound Bus. The papers dubbed me the Greyhound Bus Baby. The bus driver found me minutes after he pulled over to let the passengers stretch their legs a little. As he walked through the aisle he slipped on my afterbirth and woke me up. The police were called but all they had was a vague description of a short dark-haired woman with pale skin. She just vanished into the night. Once I was checked into the hospital and declared healthy I was a ward of the state. At least I got a cool name out of it. Liberty Day would be my name until I got old enough to pick my own. I never did change it although I was asked more than once whether Day was a middle or last name. Anyway, I spent most of my years bouncing from house to house. There just seemed a point when I was either in the way or they didn't need the money anymore. The last house I was in belonged to the Anderson's. John and Betty Anderson went to church, volunteered for charities, and were complete dicks. They already had a foster kid named Julie. In foster homes you are either a show pony they trot out for display or a mutt at his last chance. I might as well been tethered in the backyard. If Julie needed something they went to the mall. If I needed anything we went to yard sales. Still, they didn't hit me and mostly left me to myself. By then I was fifteen and mostly just wanted to be on my own. I presented the idea to Mr. Anderson of signing paperwork to emancipate me as a minor. He just laughed patting his checkbook saying "Sorry kid gotta make the car payment somehow" and threw me a twenty telling me to get lost for a while.
I had one friend, Richie Baker, who lived down
Verlag: BookRix GmbH & Co. KG
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 14.12.2015
ISBN: 978-3-7396-2789-2
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