My name is Burgundy Rose.  I live in a foster home with a family (never mind their last name).  I've been with them for a year now.

I am thirteen-and-a-half years old.  I've been in the system since I was two.  I was put into foster care because my real mom and dad abused me and needed a place to be safe.

That's all well and good, but in the meantime, I've been waiting - hoping - praying - for a real family that could take me in and love me as their own.

People wonder why I have such a sour, cynical outlook on life.

I'm not a bad kid.  Been knocked around by life more than I'd like, have had to fight like hell just to survive.  I'm misunderstood.  People need to give me a chance, see that I am really a nice person inside and out.

Actually, I am quite good.  People say that once they get to know me, once I learn to trust again, I'm sweet, compassionate towards others.  I love animals, too, especially abandoned ones, because I know where they've been.

When I am not wishing for a family, I like to go to the mall or help out at the homeless shelter with my family once a month, hang out with friends, gab on the phone or play on the Internet, read (I love fantasy novels; Brian Jacques is my favorite, as is J.K. Rowling, the lady who wrote the best-selling "Harry Potter" books), draw, write poetry or stories, and play hacky-sack.  I also love to roller blade, skateboard, swim, do gymnastic style flips. 

Really gets 'em when I do one in the Mall.  LOL

I'm a typical teenaged girl.  If there's anything I want more than life itself, it is to be adopted for Christmas.  What more could I ask for? 

I want a family who can raise me, give me the love and security I've really never had.  I want a family that I can do fun stuff with, and give me a solid foundation that I can lean on. 

The way things are now, I have no clue whatsoever what being loved is really like, or what it is like to have a mom, dad, brothers and sisters. 

I feel like I have a huge hole inside me.  Empty.  Sad.  Strange.

People sometimes tease me, call me a FK (foster kid), say mean stuff like "Nobody loves you; that's why you don't have a family".  Great.  Make me feel worse!!  Then people wonder why I'm so depressed, even to the point of suicide.  It's nuts!!

Yes, I admit it.  I've tried to commit suicide, several times.  Cut myself, wanted to bleed to death.  That didn't go very far:  I was found unconscious in the bathroom by my last foster mom, and she had me put into the hospital, so I could get help.

I don't see it doing any good because sometimes I still have those bad feelings.

It doesn't help that whenever I hear of people adopting, it's always foreign born kids, or kids who are babies.  They want perfect, blue eyed, blond haired little cherubs.

What about us, the older kids?  What about kids like my little foster brother, Edwin, who is in a wheelchair because of severe cerebral palsy?  What about kids like my last foster sister, Renate, who was racially mixed? 

Don't they (we) even matter?  Hello!!!

We are human; we deserve to have a family, too!  We're kids.  We're not meant to be shuttled like cattle from one family to another:  we need a stable home environment, so we can grow, learn, live!

Well, I've managed to make myself cry yet again, so I'm going to go now.  I can't hardly see for all the tears raining down from my eyes.  I will write in here soon.  Burgundy Rose, out.

Oh, forgot to mention, tomorrow's Christmas.  Big deal.  BAH the humbug!  Christmas.  Who needs it??  I don't; it's just another day to me, just like the rest of 'em!

~Burgundy Rose, age 13 1/2.  :( >tears!<