Chapter Text
On Friday, December 19, 2008, Rose woke up like normal. Like every other morning, she got up at 5:00, showered as quickly as she could, and got dressed. By 6:00 she was downstairs eating breakfast. Then she napped for two hours, before going to meet her bus to school. She always got up early though, so that she could beat the rush of other kids in the morning. Nothing says “great start to the morning” quite like not getting to shower because 3 other kids need to use that bathroom in the morning. Plus this way she got hot water and whatever she wanted from breakfast.
At 8:17 she got on the bus, like normal, then went to school. She sat through all six of her classes with anticipation for winter break. Like most of the kids at her school, she was looking forward to break. Unlike the other kids, she wasn’t looking forward to the holiday; she was looking for a way to escape.
Rose lived in a foster home with 11 other kids. That in and of itself wasn’t so bad. But Miss Miller wasn’t very nice. Rose was fairly certain she didn’t actually like kids. At all. This isn’t a foster care horror story, or anything; Rose knew it could be worse, but she was constantly in trouble, in a way that really just felt like Miss Miller didn’t like that she existed. Just this week, she had been put in time-out in the basement for 15 minutes for scaring the cat (the cat who she has done nothing to, it’s just been afraid of her for no reason since she got here five months ago); 30 minutes for being mean to one of the other kids (who was 3 and afraid of how her eyes look, as though she can control that); 15 minutes for being home late for dinner (making her more late, how does that make sense? At least let her eat first!); 45 minutes because she failed a test, so clearly she needed to sit in a quiet place and study more (after the test????); and the list goes on.
At least Miss Miller remembered to take her to her doctor’s appointments, though. At the last home she was at they kept “forgetting” until they had to take her because she was passing out. Rose was very anemic, like to the point that she had to be given blood every once in a while. That was the one obstacle she wasn’t sure how she was going to deal with, but she was leaving.
She was tired of always being in trouble. She was tired of being bounced from home to home when they finally got sick of her. She was tired of other people’s fear. She was tired of being different. She was tired of being Rose Doe. Other kids ran away, and if they could do it, so could she. She just wasn’t sure how to make that last longer than a month. But now she had two weeks off school, and because of the holidays they were with minimal supervision, to plan it.
On Wednesday, December 31, 2008, Rose went “to a friend's house” and if all went according to plan, she would not return. She pretended that she was going to spend the night at some ambiguous friend’s house so it wouldn’t be weird that she was bringing a bag. She packed her piggy bank, pocket knife and a note and a picture she had, she assumed from her parents, but they were left with her when she had been surrendered, so she didn’t know for sure. She packed a few sets of clothes, and as many socks and underwear as she could fit in the bag. She packed her toothbrush and toothpaste, her hair brush, and towel. She packed some granola bars, some water bottles, some snack cakes, and some crackers. And then she left.