Couples receive “parent points”, which they can use to purchase their children. Most parents wait for a few thousand, but you chose to buy the cheaper, 100 point child.
Shane knows what it’s like to be a 100 point child. He knows how it feels to see potential parents–potential families–come through the facilities doors, faces bright with excitement. He knows how it feels to see them reading the little plaques on the nursery doors, scanning the lists there for the right bits of knowledge and etiquette and grace that they want their baby to have.
He knows how it feels to see their faces pinch outside the window before they hurry to the next room.
Shane grew up in a 100 point nursery. They had torn, ratty, books and no teachers, and when snack time came, the tray was pushed through a slat in the door. They were called “unruly” and “damaged” and “stupid.” A lot of the other kids threw tantrums and broke furniture (and sometimes other kids). A lot of the other kids went quiet after the first few years when they realized they’d never be adopted until they were old enough (or pretty enough) to be useful. A lot of the kids cried and didn’t stop until they got taken away or were aged out.
Shane’s grown up a lot since aging out. He put himself through school, got himself a job, shed his 100 points like the torn clothes he’d left the facility in. He’s powerful now, successful, and he’s grown out of the twisted nose, big ears, and gap-toothed smile that had made him one of the less attractive 100 point babies. Or maybe he’s grown into them. Who’s to say?
It’s taken him a long time to get enough Parent Points to do what he wants. Being a man is, for once, somewhat hindering as most of society equates “parental” with “maternal.” He’s lost count of how many social workers have politely hid expressions of surprise when he told them he wanted to adopt stag, that he’s willing to take the classes, get the grades, make the oaths to get even one Parent Point.
I was always kind. My abuse tested my kindness and you are testing my patience.
‘no, my abuse made me a spineless jellyfish living in perpetual fear of standing up for myself, but thank you for framing that as a positive thing you like about me’
“I am a good person despite my abuse, not because of it”
Abuse made me hypersensitive to other people’s emotions while neglecting my own boundaries and comfort because I’m afraid of upsetting someone or having them lash out at me.
I was already strong. I was already smart. I was already empathetic. Anything I learned over time comes from me and not from my abuse or my abuser. Fuck anyone who asks survivors to give abusers even a singular ounce of credit for their own attributes. Literally eat a bag of shit covered dicks and never speak again.
This story was different actually??? And even better???
The girl, Brooklyn Andracke, used to wave at the truck every thursday and the trashman waved her back. It was a very important to her to do it every week.
It was HER birthday, and she decided that she wanted to share her birthday cake with the trashman. She also wanted to meet her hero, whose name is Delvar Dopson.
The girl’s mother thanked Delvar for his work and explained to him how important it is for Brooklyn to wave at him every thursday.
He was pretty surprised but he admitted that every time he drove near the house he hoped that the girl would wave at him.
That’s not the end of the story though. Next week Delvar had a surprise for the little girl.
He brought her a bunch of amazing birthday gifts!
They both got quite popular, and Delvar is getting a lot of thank you messages from trashmen from all over the world for representing them in such a good way.
Borne Ceaseless 