In the child protective system

I was with my adoptive parents from the age of three and a half until once again the state took me away because of child abuse at the age of twelve. Throughout the next four years I moved in and out of foster homes, group homes, two mental health facilities and juvenile hall. I had quickly mastered the art of running away. I was constantly AWOL. Running away became a sort of sport. I was taking control of my life and having fun outsmarting the parents or staff I was placed with. The courts, of course, did not like this little game. Which is why I wound up in juvenile hall repeatedly.
Nobody visited me, not in juvi, not in my group homes and not in the foster homes. Most of the other kids would go home on weekend passes or at least have frequent visits. After a while I got used to it. Used to birthdays coming and going like any other day. No one to depend on, no one depending on me... I found myself... free.