I’ll never forget when I heard about Game of Thrones. I had been recommended it by a friend, who also was my foster sister. I was packing up my bag to leave foster care, or AWOL, as they call it for us, after 10 years of hell. I wasn't about to make it 11. She was the only person who knew, and who I trusted living there. I love to journal usually, but the staff went through everything we had, including diaries. If I dared to write that I felt like leaving, I would be put on “R-Level”, which was 21 hours a day in your room, with three designated hours, two hours for cleaning, 30 minutes for bathrooms, and 30 minutes for eating. Another AWOL would mean two months of R level, a report to my social worker, and possibly juvenile hall for an indeterminate amount of time.