Friends with the enemy by Ash Knight & Vicki Evans

 "What do you want?" Raven asked, not looking at the man she knew had come to take her away from another family and back to another building full of other braty kids like herself.    "To make you safe, and give you a new home." Harold Jova said, still staring intently at the little girl with raven black hair and emerald eyes.    "Fine, you'll just have to move me again in no time anyway." She said, still not making eye contact.    "And why is that?" He asked, "From what I hear you have the potential to be a sweet child with a bright future."    "Because." She said, that was the only answer he needed anyway, it's not like he actually cared what happened to her, she thought bitterly. She had spent enough nights on the streets to know that when people pretended to care for someone like her it was only for show. No one ever cared about her, she was just another foster kid with a bad attitude and an anger problem. No one wanted her for long anyway, she had been to over seven foster homes in the past two years.    "Ok, I see you don't want to talk so I'll just let you pack while I go talk to your mommy." Harold said, turning and heading for the door.    "Mr. Jova. She isn't my mother. He isn't my father, and you aren't my friend. Get out, I gotta' pack." And with that she slammed the door.     Well, he thought, never figured on seeing a ten-year-old who was that bitter and to the point.      He walked down the steps of the small two story house that was, literally, a dump in the making. The only reason he was here was because the cops had called him saying that Raven's foster father, Brad, had messed her up a bit. That was an under statment, she had a black eye, two chipped teeth, her right jaw was dislocated,a broken nose, busted lip, and from her left temple to the bottow of her left jaw she was brusied badly.     But she hadn't cried, no, not even one tear. She had looked at him with disgust when he had walked through the door, a thirty-seven-year-old man, she held no liking for Social Services that was for sure.     But he didn't care, because when you see a kid messed up like she was you don't. You just move, take action. Not time for being a wimp, you slap cuffs on the one responsable and you try to make it all go away.       But with little Raven Black, that was an impossability. She didn't want comfort, or help. She just wanted him to get out of her face and go back to whatever hole he had climbed out of. She had even said as much. But if you thought about it you wouldn't like being pulled out of home after home for eight years now would you, old Harold? He asked himself as he entered the living area.     Well, a man can only do so much. He thought, knowing it was the truth yet a lie all in one.