After the first time I was adopted, my guardians and foster homes became a blur of faces and places. Each family I went to always mistreated me, and I was lucky to be smart enough to always escape. It was like a whirlwind of being scolded and punished by the orphanage officials for either misbehaving with my foster parents or running away, and then, before I knew what was happening, I was being adopted again and thrown into another bitter family. Having a sweet, quaint family just hadn't been something I was lucky with.

Eventually, the officials got fed up with giving me out since I was bound to return...