by Olivia Bredbenner

Created on: February 09, 2008

As the train pulled out of the railroad station, I waved my last good bye to the family that had been mine for two years. I was feeling proud, as I was dressed in my Girl Scout uniform for the last and final time.

My face was itchy,and I rubbed the area where my tears had dried. I was barely aware that my younger sister was at my side. Our foster parents , began to looked smaller and smaller; the smell of the train fuel made me feel sick.

We had been at this foster home for two years, it was for me,the most positive years of my life. A most gracious English and Scottish couple, patiently refined our sloppy speech and taught us manners. There are many times, when I still reflect on the great impact they had on me.

We soon arrived at our destination. This time it was to be at my Uncles Charles's house. Somewhat, a rescue from the many foster homes we had passed through.
My Dad was to pick us up; we were to start another life. Again.

The day came, Dad smiled as my sister and I climbed into the car, to go to our new home.
Immediately, I was aware, that our new step mother did not like the additions to her family. My first clue, she didn't even say hello.

As it turned out, having a new home, was not at all what our youthful imagination had painted home to be. Our stepmother was the "Wicked Witch ;" that is using kind words for her. She made it clear that she was jealous of our presence in "her" home. She had two daughters of her own. So there were two of them; my sister and I. A perfect division. In addition, she soon used the practice of divisive behavior, by alternating attention on me one day, to the total exclusion of my sister. The next day, it was my turn to be ignored; she would then lavish my sister with attention. My sister and I developed a way to communicate every morning. Who ever noticed it first, would say quietly to the other. " She's on my side today " or visa versa.

We were not allowed to help ourselves in the refrigerator or cupboard. We were allowed to stay in the basement. We carefully hid bread and jelly ,as well tea bags. We could use the hot water in the basement sink to make tea. Coping with that was easy. There were many more difficult things to deal with. Being locked out for hours with no place to go. There were deliberate actions of demoralization; just part of growing up with the "wicked Witch."

The "wicked Witch" had our religion changed. We went to mass just about every day before school,as she thought that my sister and I were sinners. We

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