Nearly everyone hated one thing during their childhood, and that one thing was school. Of course, our friends were alright, but the teachers and having to do tons of work that we won't even need in the future? That was the bad part. I’m Ellie. Although, my name shouldn’t be so common. When I was just a year old, I was abandoned into foster care with one single note. That note was from my mom, saying that she didn’t want me, but she wanted me to have a good life. Well, it’s been thirteen years since that day and let’s just say what she wanted, didn’t go as she planned.
When I was first put into foster care, a young couple came and took me to foster me. Of course, that only lasted until my first day of school when I was five. I got home from school with my ‘dad’ telling me they had something to tell me. It took a few seconds before they told me I was getting put back into foster care since my ‘mom’ was officially pregnant.
I was stuck at some house with plenty of other children and a lot of workers for about a month. Then I found that I was being taken again by an oldish woman, saying that she wanted a daughter and that I would be old enough to live on my own when she died in the future. I was eight when one day I was doing my homework. That was interrupted when I had heard a thump downstairs. Marge, the old woman had fallen and ended up dying at the age of eighty-four that day.
Instead of being forced back to my old home with the other kids, I was given to an all-girls home. For a full year, I hadbeen stuck learning there while also being taught how to be a ‘proper lady. Thankfully after that year, I was taken away by a middle-aged man. But that didn’t take long at all, he lasted a month with me before I was thrown back to the home. Apparently, they thought it was funny to tell a nine-year-old that the person she had lived with for a month, was a murderer.
I was eleven when my social workers allowed me to be taken again. This time it was a middle-aged wife and husband with a young boy around the age of five. Just a year ago, when I turned thirteen, they however took me back, saying they couldn’t handle my grade level. It was quite expensive, and they just couldn’t afford it.
It’s been a full year since that day, and I grew bored of waiting for a new family to come and take me away. Anyways, back to the issue of school. Fun, right?
Anyways, this story isn’t about the fact my life is miserable and I don’t have a family. It’s about the subject of school like I’ve said before. These are the main points on how I became what I wanted to be, and not what my schools said I had to. My grades were perfect of course but thanks to that, everyone was telling me that being a doctor, or a teacher would be the best idea. I disagreed. Ever since I was little, I’ve wanted to write away in an imaginary world that I have created myself. To be able to be another character, to have friends and a perfect life… But people said writing is for those who are old and have nothing better to do than sit on their chair and write a book.
The first thing Idid was go find myself a small job. A café near me was hiring so I instantly applied for the job. They said they were looking for someone young that could hand out food to customers. I got the job. For a full month, of every day at work minus Sunday, I finally got a decent amount of money. Fifty-four pounds.
I went to the shop and grabbed myself some paper, some pens, pencils and erasers before starting to plan a story in the background of my work. I worked for one whole year before finally having enough for a cheap but alright laptop. I also bought more supplies.
Despite the fact I was still working at the café, I was able to finally make one book. I reread it, making corrections. Then I made the book again and printed it. I checked it for corrections but there was none that my eyes could see. I then sent it out to my nearest publisher and waited nearly three months for the reply. At this time, I was already making the second copy of the book and was surprised one morning when it said I had an email from the publishers.
That is how my book was published. Although, knowing people wouldn’t read it instantly, I began making book after book, by the end of the year the full six books were out and people were buying them left right and centre.
Near February, I got another email from a company asking if they could make my books into a movie, of course, I would be paid, and it will still be my story.
Of course, more people tried to foster me, which I said no to. But I was glad about my success, and I was happy to become something I really wanted to be.I’m glad I got an education as good as I did. Although I do feel sorry for those who don’t get the education most of us do. Though if you hate it, you hate it. I can’t change your mind. But you’ll be thankful you had it when your older, even if it’s the bad kind.
When I was first put into foster care, a young couple came and took me to foster me. Of course, that only lasted until my first day of school when I was five. I got home from school with my ‘dad’ telling me they had something to tell me. It took a few seconds before they told me I was getting put back into foster care since my ‘mom’ was officially pregnant.
I was stuck at some house with plenty of other children and a lot of workers for about a month. Then I found that I was being taken again by an oldish woman, saying that she wanted a daughter and that I would be old enough to live on my own when she died in the future. I was eight when one day I was doing my homework. That was interrupted when I had heard a thump downstairs. Marge, the old woman had fallen and ended up dying at the age of eighty-four that day.
Instead of being forced back to my old home with the other kids, I was given to an all-girls home. For a full year, I hadbeen stuck learning there while also being taught how to be a ‘proper lady. Thankfully after that year, I was taken away by a middle-aged man. But that didn’t take long at all, he lasted a month with me before I was thrown back to the home. Apparently, they thought it was funny to tell a nine-year-old that the person she had lived with for a month, was a murderer.
I was eleven when my social workers allowed me to be taken again. This time it was a middle-aged wife and husband with a young boy around the age of five. Just a year ago, when I turned thirteen, they however took me back, saying they couldn’t handle my grade level. It was quite expensive, and they just couldn’t afford it.
It’s been a full year since that day, and I grew bored of waiting for a new family to come and take me away. Anyways, back to the issue of school. Fun, right?
Anyways, this story isn’t about the fact my life is miserable and I don’t have a family. It’s about the subject of school like I’ve said before. These are the main points on how I became what I wanted to be, and not what my schools said I had to. My grades were perfect of course but thanks to that, everyone was telling me that being a doctor, or a teacher would be the best idea. I disagreed. Ever since I was little, I’ve wanted to write away in an imaginary world that I have created myself. To be able to be another character, to have friends and a perfect life… But people said writing is for those who are old and have nothing better to do than sit on their chair and write a book.
The first thing Idid was go find myself a small job. A café near me was hiring so I instantly applied for the job. They said they were looking for someone young that could hand out food to customers. I got the job. For a full month, of every day at work minus Sunday, I finally got a decent amount of money. Fifty-four pounds.
I went to the shop and grabbed myself some paper, some pens, pencils and erasers before starting to plan a story in the background of my work. I worked for one whole year before finally having enough for a cheap but alright laptop. I also bought more supplies.
Despite the fact I was still working at the café, I was able to finally make one book. I reread it, making corrections. Then I made the book again and printed it. I checked it for corrections but there was none that my eyes could see. I then sent it out to my nearest publisher and waited nearly three months for the reply. At this time, I was already making the second copy of the book and was surprised one morning when it said I had an email from the publishers.
That is how my book was published. Although, knowing people wouldn’t read it instantly, I began making book after book, by the end of the year the full six books were out and people were buying them left right and centre.
Near February, I got another email from a company asking if they could make my books into a movie, of course, I would be paid, and it will still be my story.
Of course, more people tried to foster me, which I said no to. But I was glad about my success, and I was happy to become something I really wanted to be.I’m glad I got an education as good as I did. Although I do feel sorry for those who don’t get the education most of us do. Though if you hate it, you hate it. I can’t change your mind. But you’ll be thankful you had it when your older, even if it’s the bad kind.
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