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The Lost Boy: A Foster Child's Search for the Love of a Family

The Lost Boy: A Foster Child's Search for the Love of a Family

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The Lost Boy: A Foster Child's Search for the Love of a Family

3/5 (776 ratings)
231 pages
3 hours
Jan 1, 2010


Imagine a young boy who has never had a loving home. His only possesions are the old, torn clothes he carries in a paper bag. The only world he knows is one of isolation and fear. Although others had rescued this boy from his abusive alcoholic mother, his real hurt is just begining -- he has no place to call home.

This is Dave Pelzer's long-awaited sequel to A Child Called "It". In The Lost Boy, he answers questions and reveals new adventures through the compelling story of his life as an adolescent. Now considered an F-Child (Foster Child), Dave is moved in and out of five different homes. He suffers shame and experiences resentment from those who feel that all foster kids are trouble and unworthy of being loved just because they are not part of a "real" family.

Tears, laughter, devastation and hope create the journey of this little lost boy who searches desperately for just one thing -- the love of a family.
Jan 1, 2010

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The Lost Boy - Dave Pelzer


Chapter 1

The Runaway

Winter 1970, Daly City, California—I’m alone. I’m hungry and I’m shivering in the dark. I sit on top of my hands at the bottom of the stairs in the garage. My head is tilted backward. My hands became numb hours ago. My neck and shoulder muscles begin to throb. But that’s nothing new—I’ve learned to turn off the pain.

I’m Mother’s prisoner.

I am nine years old, and I’ve been living like this for years. Every day it’s the same thing. I wake up from sleeping on an old army cot in the garage, perform the morning chores, and if I’m lucky, eat leftover breakfast cereal from my brothers. I run to school, steal food, return to The House and am forced to throw up in the toilet bowl to prove that I didn’t commit the crime of stealing any food.

I receive beatings or play another one of her games, perform afternoon chores, then sit at the bottom of the stairs until I’m summoned to complete the evening chores. Then, and only if I have completed all of my chores on time, and if I have not committed any crimes, I may be fed a morsel of food.

My day ends only when Mother allows me to sleep on the army cot, where my body curls up in my meek effort to retain any body heat. The only pleasure in my life is when I sleep. That’s the only time I can escape my life. I love to dream.

Weekends are worse. No school means no food and more time at The House. All I can do is try to imagine myself away—somewhere, anywhere—from The House. For years I have been the outcast of The Family. As long as I can remember I have always been in trouble and have deserved to be punished. At first I thought I was a bad boy. Then I thought Mother was sick because she only acted differently when my brothers were not around and my father was away at work. But somehow I always knew Mother and I had a private relationship. I also realized that for some reason I have been Mother’s sole target for her unexplained rage and twisted pleasure.

I have no home. I am a member of no one’s family. I know deep inside that I do not now, nor will I ever, deserve any love, attention or even recognition as a human being. I am a child called It.

I’m all alone inside.

Upstairs the battle begins. Since it’s after four in the afternoon, I know both of my parents are drunk. The yelling starts. First the name-calling, then the swearing. I count the seconds before the subject turns to me—it always does. The sound of Mother’s voice makes my insides turn. What do you mean? she shrieks at my father, Stephen. You think I treat ‘The Boy’ bad? Do you? Her voice then turns ice cold. I can imagine her pointing a finger at my father’s face. You . . . listen . . . to . . . me. You . . . have no idea what ‘It’s’ like. If you think I treat ‘It’ that bad . . . then . . . ‘It’ can live somewhere else.

I can picture my father—who, after all these years, still tries somewhat to stand up for me—swirling the liquor in his glass, making the ice from his drink rattle. Now calm down, he begins. All I’m trying to say is . . . well . . . no child deserves to live like that. My God, Roerva, you treat . . . dogs better than . . . than you do The Boy.

The argument builds to an ear-shattering climax. Mother slams her drink on the kitchen countertop. Father has crossed the line. No one ever tells Mother what to do. I know I will have to pay the price for her rage. I realize it’s only a matter of time before she orders me upstairs. I prepare myself. Ever so slowly I slide my hands out from under my butt, but not too far—for I know sometimes she’ll check on me. I know I am never to move a muscle without her permission.

I feel so small inside. I only wish I could somehow . . .

Without warning, Mother opens the door leading to the downstairs garage. You! she screams. Get your ass up here! Now!

In a flash I bolt up the stairs. I wait a moment for her command before I timidly open the door. Without a sound I approach Mother and await one of her games.

It’s the game of address, in which I have to stand exactly three feet in front of her, my hands glued to my side, my head tilted down at a 45-degree angle and my eyes locked onto her feet. Upon the first command I must look above her bust, but below her eyes. Upon the second command I must look into her eyes, but never, never may I speak, breathe or move a single muscle unless Mother gives me permission to do so. Mother and I have been playing this game since I was seven years old, so today it’s just another routine in my lifeless existence.

Suddenly Mother reaches over and seizes my right ear. By accident, I flinch. With her free hand Mother punishes my movement with a solid slap to my face. Her hand becomes a blur, right up until the moment before it strikes my face. I cannot see very well without my glasses. Since it is not a school day, I am not allowed to wear them. The blow from her hand burns my skin. Who told you to move? Mother sneers. I keep my eyes open, fixing them on a spot on the carpet. Mother checks for my reaction before again yanking my ear as she leads me to the front door.

Turn around! she yells. Look at me! But I cheat. From the corner of my eye I steal a glance at Father. He gulps down another swallow from his drink. His once rigid shoulders are now slumped over. His job as a fireman in San Francisco, his years of drinking and the strained relationship with Mother have taken their toll on him. Once my superhero and known for his courageous efforts in rescuing children from burning buildings, Father is now a beaten man. He takes another swallow before Mother begins. Your father here thinks I treat you bad. Well, do I? Do I?

My lips tremble. For a second I’m unsure whether I am supposed to answer. Mother must know this and probably enjoys the game all the more. Either way, I’m doomed. I feel like an insect about to be squashed. My dry mouth opens. I can feel a film of paste separate from my lips. I begin to stutter.

Before I can form a word, Mother again yanks on my right ear. My ear feels as if it were on fire. Shut that mouth of yours! No one told you to talk! Did they? Well, did they? Mother bellows.

My eyes seek out Father. Seconds later he must have felt my need. Roerva, he says, that’s no way to treat The Boy.

Again I tense my body and again Mother yanks on my ear, but this time she maintains the pressure, forcing me to stand on my toes. Mother’s face turns dark red. "So you think I treat him badly?

I . . . Pointing her index finger at her chest, Mother continues. I don’t need this. Stephen, if you think I’m treating It badly . . . well, It can just get out of my house!"

I strain my legs, trying to stand a little taller, and begin to tighten my upper body so that when Mother strikes I can be ready. Suddenly she lets go of my ear and opens the front door. Get out! she screeches. Get out of my house! I don’t like you! I don’t want you! I never loved you! Get the hell out of my house!

I freeze. I’m not sure of this game. My brain begins to spin with all the options of what Mother’s real intentions may be. To survive, I have to think ahead. Father steps in front of me. No! he cries out. That’s enough. Stop it, Roerva. Stop the whole thing. Just let The Boy be.

Mother now steps between Father and me. No? Mother begins in a sarcastic voice. How many times have you told me that about The Boy? The Boy this, The Boy that. The Boy, The Boy, The Boy. How many times, Stephen? She reaches out, touching Father’s arm as if pleading with him; as if their lives would be so much better if I no longer lived with them—if I no longer existed.

Inside my head my brain screams, Oh my God! Now I know!

Without thinking, Father cuts her off. No, he states in a low voice. This, he says, spreading his hands, this is wrong. I can tell by his trailing voice that Father has lost his steam. He appears to be on the verge of tears. He looks at me and shakes his head before looking at Mother. Where will he live? Who’s going to take care of . . . ?

Stephen, don’t you get it? Don’t you understand? I don’t give a damn what happens to him. I don’t give a damn about The Boy.

Suddenly, the front door flies open. Mother smiles as she holds the doorknob. Okay. All right. I’ll leave it up to The Boy. She bends down, just inches in front of my face. Mother’s breath reeks of booze. Her eyes are ice cold and full of pure hatred. I wish I could turn away. I wish I were back in the garage. In a slow, raspy voice, Mother says, If you think I treat you so badly, you can leave.

I snap out of my protective mold and take a chance by looking at Father. He misses my glance as he sips another drink. My mind begins to tumble. I don’t understand the purpose of her new game. Suddenly I realize that this is no game. It takes a few seconds for me to understand that this is my chance—my chance to escape. I’ve wanted to run away for years, but some invisible fear kept me from doing it. But I tell myself that this is too easy. I so badly want to move my legs, but they remain rigid.

Well? Mother screams into my ear. It’s your choice. Time seems to stand still. As I stare down at the carpet, I can hear Mother begin to hiss. He won’t leave. The Boy will never leave. It hasn’t the guts to go.

I can feel the inside of my body begin to shake. For a moment I close my eyes, wishing myself away. In my mind I can see myself walking through the door. I smile inside. I so badly want to leave. The more I envision myself walking through the door, the more I begin to feel a warmth spread through my soul. Suddenly, I can feel my body moving. My eyes pop open. I look down at my worn-out sneakers. My feet are stepping through the front door. Oh my God, I say to myself, I can’t believe I’m doing this! Out of fear, I dare not stop.

There, Mother triumphantly states. "The Boy did it. It’s his decision. I didn’t force him. Remember that, Stephen. I want you to know I

didn’t force him."

I step through the front door, knowing full well that Mother will reach out and yank me back in. I can feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I quicken my pace. After stepping past the door, I turn right and walk down the red steps. From behind me I can hear the sounds of Mother and Father straining themselves as they lean outside. Roerva, Father says in a low voice, this is wrong.

No! she replies in a flat voice. And remember, it was his decision. Besides, he’ll be back.

I’m so excited that I nearly trip on my own feet and stumble down the stairs. I grab on to the handrail to stabilize myself. I make it to the walkway, and I fight to control my breathing. I turn right and walk up the street until I’m sure no one can see me past The House, then I break into a run. I make it halfway up the street before stopping, only for a moment, to look back down at The House.

With my hands on my knees I bend down panting. I try to strain my ears for the sounds of Mother’s station wagon. Somehow, Mother’s letting me go seems all too easy. I know she’ll be after me in a few moments. After catching my breath, I again quicken my pace. I reach the top of Crestline Avenue and stare down at the small green house. But there’s no station wagon racing out of the garage. No one running after me. No yelling, screaming or hitting. I’m not sitting at the bottom of the stairs in the garage, not being beaten in the back of the knees with a broomstick and not getting locked in the bathroom with another concoction of ammonia and Clorox.

I spin around at the sound of a passing car. I wave.

Even though I’m wearing ragged pants, a torn, thin, long-sleeved shirt and a pair of worn-out tennis shoes, I feel happy inside. I’m warm. I tell myself I’m never going back. After years of living in fear, surviving torturous beatings and eating out of garbage cans, I now know I will somehow survive.

I have no friends, no place to hide, nothing to turn to. But I know exactly where I’m going—the river. Years ago, when I was a member of The Family, for every summer vacation we would drive up to the Russian River in Guerneville. The best times in my life were the days spent learning to swim at Johnson’s Beach, riding down the Super Slide, going on hayrides at sunset and playing with my brothers on the old tree stump by our cabin. Remembering the smell of the giant redwood trees and the beauty of the dark green river makes me smile.

I’m not sure exactly where Guerneville is, but I do know it lies north of the Golden Gate Bridge. I’m sure it will take me a few days to get there, but I don’t care. Once I’m there I can survive by stealing loaves of French bread and salami from the local Safeway supermarket, and sleep on Johnson’s Beach while listening to the sounds of the cars rumbling across the old evergreen Parker truss bridge that leads into the city. Guerneville was the only place I ever felt safe. Ever since I was in kindergarten, I knew it was where I wanted to live. And once I make it there, I know I will live in Guerneville for the rest of my life.

I begin walking down Eastgate Avenue when a cold chill whistles through my body. The sun has set and the evening fog begins to roll in from the nearby ocean. I clamp my hands inside my armpits and make my way down the street. My teeth begin to chatter. The thrill of the great escape begins to wear off. I begin to think that maybe, maybe, Mother was right. As much as she beat me and yelled at me, at least the garage was warmer than out here. Besides, I tell myself, I do lie and steal food. Maybe I do deserve to be punished. I stop for a second to rethink my plan. If I turn back now, right now, she’ll yell and beat me—but I’m used to that. If I’m lucky, tomorrow she may feed me some leftover scraps from dinner. Then I can steal food from school the next day. Really, all I have to do is go back. I smile to myself. I’ve survived worse from Mother before.

I stop midstride. The thought of returning to The House doesn’t sound half bad. Besides, I tell myself, I could never find the river anyway. I turn around. She was right.

I picture myself sitting at the bottom of the stairs, shaking with fear, frightened of every sound I may hear from above. Counting the seconds and being terrified by every set of commercials; then waiting for the sound of the floor to creak upstairs when Mother gets up from the couch, strolls into the kitchen to pour herself a drink and then screeches for me to come upstairs—where she’ll beat me until I can no longer stand. I may be unable to crawl away.

I hate commercials.

The sound of a nearby cricket rubbing its wings brings me back to reality. I try to find the insect and stop for a moment when I think I’m close. The chirping stops. I remain perfectly still. If I catch it, maybe I could put the cricket in my pocket and make it my pet. I hear the cricket again. As I bend over to reach out, I hear the rumbling sounds of Mother’s car from behind me. I dive beside a nearby car the moment before the headlights spot me. The car creeps down the street. The sound of Mother’s squeaky brakes pierces through my ears. She’s searching for me. I begin to wheeze. I clamp my eyes closed as her headlights inch their way toward me. I wait for the sound of Mother’s car to grind to a halt, followed by her leaping from the car, then throwing me back into her station wagon. I count the seconds. I open my eyes slowly, turning my head to the left just in time to see the rear brakes light up before the brakes squeal. It’s over! She’s found me! In a way, I’m relieved. I would have never made it to the river. The anticipation drained me. Come on, come on, I say to myself. Just do it. Come on.

The car cruises past me.

I don’t believe it! I jump up from behind the car and stare at a shiny two-door sedan tapping its brakes every few seconds. Suddenly I feel lightheaded. My stomach tightens up. A surge of fluid climbs up my throat. I stumble over to someone’s grass and try to throw up. After a few seconds of dry heaves because of my empty stomach, I glance up at the stars. I can see patches of clear sky through the foggy mist. Bright silver stars twinkle above me. I try to remember how long it’s been since I’ve been outside like this. I take a few deep breaths.

No! I yell. I’m not going back! I’m never going back! I turn around and walk back down the street, north toward the Golden Gate Bridge. After a few seconds I walk past the car, which is now parked in someone’s driveway. I can see a couple standing at the top of the steps being greeted by the host. The sound of laughter and music escape through the open door. I wonder what it would be like to be welcomed in a home. As I make my way past a house, my nose detects the smell of food, and the thought of wolfing down something to eat possesses me. It’s Saturday night—that means I haven’t eaten anything since Friday morning at school. Food, I think to myself. I have to find some food.

Sometime later I make my way to my old church. Years ago, Mother sent my two brothers, Ron and Stan, and me to afternoon catechism classes for a few weeks. I haven’t been to the church since I was seven. I gently open the door. Immediately I can feel the heat seep through the holes in my pants and my paper-thin shirt. As quietly as I can, I close the door behind me. I can see the priest picking up books from the pews. I hide beside the door, hoping he won’t see me. The priest makes his way to the back pews toward me. I so badly

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What people think about The Lost Boy

776 ratings / 32 Reviews
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  • (4/5)
    TheLost Boy by David Pelzer isa powerful, must read book dealing with David own personal story as a foster kid. It takes a new look at the system and certainly clears up much preconceived notions about foster care. A stark look at the reality of the foster care system and how one child overcomes difficulties and turn negatives into positives even though he was horribly abused as a child.
  • (4/5)
    Inhaltsangabe: von War Sie nannten mich ‚Es‘ noch aus der Perspektive eines Kindes geschrieben, so schildert Pelzer nun mit den Augen des Heranwachsenden die Jahre zwischen dem zwölften und achtzehnten Lebensjahr, die ihm nach einer Kindheit voller Entbehrungen und Quälereien durch eine grausame Mutter und einen alkoholabhängigen Vater in Gestalt der Sozialarbeiterin „Tante Mary“ eine neue Perspektive gaben. Aber er zeichnet auch nach, wie schwer es war, die Schatten einer schutzlosen Vergangenheit in der Gewalt überforderter Erziehungsberechtigter wieder loszuwerden.Mein Fazit:Nun ist es schon eine kleine Weile, das ich den zweiten Teil der Dave Pelzer-Trilogie gelesen habe. Der erste Teil war mir noch lebhaft in Erinnerung (auch jetzt noch, über ein halbes Jahr nach dem Lesen des Buches).Der zweite Teil handelt davon, das David anfangs erst zu einer Pflegestelle kam, bis ein Gericht darüber entschied, wer nun das Sorgerecht für den kleinen Jungen bekam. 12 Jahre alt und im Grunde hilflos wie ein Baby. Natürlich konnte er die Tragfähigkeit dieser Entscheidung überhaupt nicht abschätzen. Obwohl er seine Mutter immer noch liebte und seine Brüder liebte, wollte er nicht mehr in diese Hölle zurück. Aber er schien regelrecht in der Pflegestelle aufzublühen, erfuhr so etwas wie Nähe und Zuneigung, liebevoller Umgang und ein bißchen Freiheit, Kind sein zu dürfen.Beim Gericht versuchte die Mutter schließlich immer noch, Dave zu dominieren, was ihr nur deshalb nicht gelang, weil Dave Schutz vom Richter und von der Fürsorgestelle hatte. Er kam auch nicht mehr zu ihr zurück. Doch damit begann auch eine Odyssee. Da es kaum Pflegestellen gab, wurde er von einer zur anderen geschoben. Einige Pflegeeltern mochte er, einige waren ihm egal und irgendwann hatte er auch resigniert.Und er suchte verzweifelt nach Anerkennung bei anderen Kindern und Jugendlichen. So sehr, das er natürlich Mist baute. Beim Lesen hätte man das Kind am liebsten geschüttelt, aber er war stets auf der Suche nach Liebe, Zuneigung und auch nach seinem Vater. Der Vater glänzte durch Abwesendheit, obwohl er schon von Davids Mutter lange getrennt war. Und wenn der Vater ihn einmal besuchte, vermittelte er dem Kind noch Schuldgefühle und machte schlimme Vorhaltungen.Gott sei Dank gab es aber auch Menschen, die sich seiner annahmen, ihm alles beibrachten, was er wissen wollte und musste.Als Leser versucht man sich in David reinzuversetzen, was natürlich nur bedingt möglich ist, weil man diese schlimmen Mißhandlungen und die Folgen daraus nicht erlebt habt, ich zumindest nicht. Und man versucht auch irgendwie, seine Handlungen nachzuvollziehen. Aber überwiegend konnte man er einem einfach nur Leid tun und hoffen, das er es doch noch irgendwie schafft.Zwischendurch gab es kleine Hänger oder ich konnte es einfach nur nicht weiterlesen, weil es einem so schrecklich vorkam. Aber beim nächsten Anlauf klappte es dann wieder und ich hatte mir gleich den dritten und letzten Teil besorgt, als ich es ausgelesen hatte. Dieser Band ist schwere Kost, aber es lohnt sich. Mich hat die Geschichte jedenfalls sehr berührt.Veröffentlicht am 28.10.14!
  • (4/5)
    This is Dave Pelzer's sequel to the heartbreaking "A Child Called It". It goes through Dave's live from age 12 when he was rescued from his abusive and alcoholic mother until age 18 when he left foster care and joined the Air Force.The book demonstrates his two goals... to hide his hideous past as he was guided into mainstream society. During his teenage/foster care years, he continued his life of misbehavior as he bounced from foster home to foster home. Eventurally, his search for acceptance and love found him enlisting in the Air Force, the military would help him get his GED after he dropped out of school. The will of his determination to overcome his past and the willingness of a few choice people around him who did not want to see him fail, overcome what would have been a bad outcome in his life.Although not as graphic as "A Boy Called It" I found this book just as eye opening. There are many "Lost Boys" all around us.
  • (5/5)
    this book was good.
  • (5/5)
    This Book gets 5 stars out of 5!this book is great!it true and from the heartyoull never put it down!READ IT!
  • (4/5)
    "The Lost Boy" is the sequel to "A Child Called It," and it continues where the first memoir left off. This, the second installment, takes the reader through the author's years in foster care after being taken away from his sadistic mother. It is refreshing to hear positive commentary on the foster care system, since most of what is reported is horrible. Dave's strength, perseverence, and unshakeable spirit are extremely inspiring, and it is heartbreaking to learn of his experiences. This is a moving and miraculous story of survival, but it is not quite as poignant as the first in the series.
  • (4/5)
    I only read the fist 54 pages, but this part of the book made me happy that Dave was in a safer place. This book is a continuation of the book "A Child Called It." David's parents were arguing about the way his mom treats David. The mom then lets David chose whether or not he wants to leave. David leaves the house and searches for food. He stops at a pizza bar and meets a man who gives him food and calls the police. Once he gets to the station, the dad picks him up with one of the mom's excuses. In 1973, teachers informed authorities about the child abuse and David is taken to a foster home. A few days, he meets his social worker and later finds out he is going to court with his mother. The mother pays a visit to him and he is frightened. She insists that she will win in court, but David's caretaker, Aunt Mary reassures him not to worry. Still, Dave is afraid of his mom, but he also is more open and feels loved. I think his mother only made him stronger. We can all relate to David only because we all eventually have to face our fears. And out of something bad, theres some good. People who care about kids, want to know about the REAL world, and basically anyone would love to read this book.
  • (4/5)
    When we finish A Child Called "It", we think that Dave's troubles must be over, but this book shows us how he struggles with more of his mother's mind games, the legal system of the early 1970s that did not offer adequit child protections from birth parents, the instability of a series of foster homes, and his own need for emotional freedom from his experiences. Dave struggles to adjust to what has happened and acts out in the process. Meanwhile, though Dave forgives his mother long after her death in the next book, my sense of justice was irked by the fact that she got away with everything without jail time and was able to threaten Dave with institutionalization (although if Dave had been put in a psychiatric ward, perhaps his mother's crimes would have been exposed to more active authorities who would have been able to do more). Dave struggles constantly in this book, but eventually he begins to grow past his experiences and fulfill his needs.
  • (5/5)
    I thought is book was very sad because i couldnt believe all the violence he was going threw i would never treat my son or daughter that way. This book was based on a child called "IT". I believe when you give birth to a baby its a present that god is giving you and that you should and have to treat them as good as you possilby can. This book was like one of the books that ive actually finshed it was great and i recomend others to read this book too i personally like it alot.
  • (4/5)
    The Lost Boy continues where A Child Called It leaves off. Dave is finally rescued from his mothers abusive home. The Lost Boy talks about Dave having to go to court to hopefully become a ward of the court. Dave is afraid and thinks of saying that everything was fine at home and that he should go back. He does not understand things and thinks he is the bad boy and is wrong. Dave then continues about the wonderful people that took care of him during the ages of 12 to 18. You get to see how it is for children living in foster homes and the stigma that society has placed on being a foster child. I enjoyed this book and hearing from Dave the troubles he went through trying to figure out why things happened to him. I look forward to reading the final book in this trilogy.
  • (4/5)
    This book is about a boy, David, who is being abused by his mom physically and mentally. His mom has an argument with his dad and tells David to leave there house.. A long time later he ends up in a foster home. He lives with a lot of different people before the end of the story. He is still scared of his mom even though he is almost an adult. What I like about this book is that it shows you how in life people can be really cruel. Even though I think that is also the bad thing about this story. The way that the author describes the way that David suffers in the story is scary especially the fact that he is only 9 years old is scary. It has a lot of really good examples of how alcohol can make you act when you are under its influence. In the end of the book it has a lot of websites that you can go to for help if you have a similar problem’s would recommend this book to everyone but first you should read “a child called it” witch is the first part of the book and after you read this book there is more books after this. David Pelzer writes really good books and I liked it a lot!
  • (5/5)
    the lost boy , part two of the book " the child called it" tells you about an amazing true story on how a little boy who is trying to survive through his mothers sick and twisted games .... suffering from hunger , and abuse
  • (4/5)
     A lot of books that are depressing you might pick it up read a little bit and then put it down. Such as The Child Called It, Sold and Lovely Bones. But that wasn’t the case when I picked up the book The Lost Boy by Dave Pelzer. This book shows what kids that get abused go through.The Lost Boy is an autobiography about a boy named Dave who gets brutally abused by his mother and is taken away from her and sent to live in a foster home. As he is in the foster home he gets into trouble trying to fit in with the other kids. He mostly steals stuff from stores to impress the kids. The kids were impressed and they started to like him because they would just tell him what they wanted and he would go into the store and get it for them. The only part of the book that I really didn’t like was when Dave was stealing from a hobby store to impress the kids. I think the author Dave Pelzer spent too much time explaining what was going on and I just found it really boring. I think he should have told a little more about the kids and what they would do after Dave would steal the things they asked for. I found this book interesting because it showed what it’s like for kids to be in a foster home and some of the things they have to go through. One of the very happy moments in the book was when he got away from his mother. After all those years of getting abused.This is one of the few books that held my interest. So if you have a hard time finding books or you really don’t like reading I would recommend this book.
  • (4/5)
    Dave Pelzer was a young boy, isolated from the rest of the world by his abusive mother. In The Lost Boy by Dave Pelzer, the sequel to A Child Called “It”, Dave is rescued from his family and is put into foster care. There, he is moved in and out of five different foster homes and has to go to court several times against his mother and for charges against him.While Dave was living with his foster parents and going to different schools, kids, and even some adults, looked down on him and ignored him because he was a foster child. He tried so hard to fit in that it got him in a lot of trouble.When Dave turned eighteen, he was out of the foster care system. He went off on his own, started his own family, he wrote his books and made a better life for himself and his children.Dave Pelzer is an amazing writer and brings true emotion to his work. There is suspense, surprise, strength, and sorrow throughout the entire book. This book really brings peoples’ true colors out, in a way that can only be explained if you read the book.Dave Pelzer writes about his dramatic journey during his childhood. There is so much hope, devastation, smiles, and adrenaline rushes incorporated into the story that you get lost in it all and you never want to put the book down.The Lost Boy is a great book with an even greater purpose, but there are a few chapters where it slows down a bit. There are also a lot of names to remember that when he is switching from home to home, it get s quite confusing trying to keep track of them all.Over all, this was an excellent book to read. I would recommend this book, and A Child Called “It”, to both my peers, and to adults of all ages. They are both amazing reads and have an inspiring story of will, hope, and freedom.
  • (5/5)
    This book was really touching, when i read it it was so sad .. all he wanted to do was fit in he got downed by adults and children only because ha was a foster child ... they did not know his story though thats what shows you how easy it is to judge a book by its cover ... I know that if the people that downed him new his story they would feel bad for him and treat him alot diffrent... So the next time you try to judge a person by what bthey look like think about this story it might make you think twice.....
  • (3/5)
    I believe I did read "A Child Called 'It'" to which this book is a sequel. It chronicles the author's time from around age 9 to around age 18 most of which was spent in foster care.The author wants his mother to love him yet he also fears that he will have to go back to living with her. He also wants answers to questions that no one can answer. I too question what happened that changed his family dynamic since he remembers being part of the family and going to the river prior to the abuse--especially since it seemed to all be directed at the author. I wonder if one of the other boys ended up on the receiving end of her abuse once David left home and was put in the foster system. I wonder what was going through the mind of the first mental health professional David saw. Had he been "poisoned" by the mother's thoughts prior to talking to David? Or was he just a quack?As a result of David's struggle for acceptance, he falls in with some of the wrong crowds while growing up because they pretend to accept him but then use him as the patsy when the occasion suits them. That's sad.
  • (4/5)
    First-hand story of living in foster care; not gifted writing, but educational. Read this book in order, after "A Child Called It." The final book is entitled "A Man Named Dave."
  • (3/5)
    It was hard for me to put these books down but I can't really say that I enjoyed them.
  • (4/5)
    Pelzer's ongoing tale of a boy struggling to overcome the ravages of abuse is quite interesting. The book does an excellent job presenting an overview of foster care that strives to shatter some stereotypes. This theme is further strengthened by an appendix that allows key players (foster care parents, social services workers) to chime in. Still, I found "A Brother's Journey" by Richard Pelzer (David's sibling) to be more compelling.
  • (4/5)
    Dave Pelzer is an author that writes about his personal life. The book “The Lost Boy” is a book about a boy who just wants a family. He just wants to fit in and be loved. Dave’s book made me want to read more and more. The detail he puts in makes yo, and some could bring tears to your eyes because of all the strong detail. As you read, you would think about how lucky most kids are, and how so many others aren’t. A young boy switches from foster home to foster home, makes friends and looses them. He desperately tries to find a way to fit in. This book should touch the heart of others. It has definitely made a difference in my awareness of the horrors around us
  • (5/5)
    I'm not sure if I had a dry eye on any page on his first two books. Its amazing the things he went through and he was still able to write a book and give lectures.
  • (4/5)
    I just finished "The Lost Boy". It really gave a look into a childs view of being a foster child. It makes me look at children different who are not always seemed as "normal". The book also gives hope to others who have doubted their furture as either a foster parent or foster child. I recommend reading all 3 of David Pelzers books.
  • (3/5)
    The Lost Boy is the second book by Dave Pelzer following his first book "A Child called It" where he writes vividly his encounters of abuse with his mother. In this book David recounts his life after he was taken away from the mother who abused him and taken into foster care. I took to the first book better than the second because the second book deals more with the aftermath of abuse.
  • (5/5)
    This book is the second book of Dave Pelzer's A child called it series.In this book Dave moves to many different foster homes which he moves out of a lot throughout the book.His life changes a lot its like looking in a mirror because everything is backwards.He makes more friends and family.He faces many problems still like , his father dying and his foster parents getting along. I suggest this series of books to many people because the books are heart - touching and sad.
  • (5/5)
    While this book wasn't as graphic as the first novel, " A Child Called IT", it was heart-breaking nonetheless. I cannot believe the strength that Dave Peltzer demonstrated throughout his young life, and the "problems" that he had as far as his struggles seemed mundane compared to what he went through. It irked me to the core that his mother was not thrown in jail for the rest of her life, regardless of her "mental illness", so should have been tossed in jail, or even a mental institution for the remander of her life for what she did to her own child, but instead she walked free. This story goes into depth looking at the trial between the state and Mrs. Pelzer, as well as Daves journeys through different foster families and trying to find his place in the world, as well as his on-going struggles to fit in and live a normal life. Not only did his mother torment him, but the kids in his schools as well as his foster families tormented him as well, and it goes to show that you should NEVER pick on another child, because you NEVER know what they are going through. My heart absolutly broke for this little boy, and at an age when kids are going to be a reality to me in the near future, it breaks my heart even more to know that a parent can subject there child to such a horrific childhood. Everyone should read this book, it's not going to make you happy, or uplift you, but it's still essential to read if only to open your eyes to the realities of child abuse and the need for not only foster parents, but for exceptance for children that are different, and for the parents that foster them.
  • (3/5)
    The second book in the Dave Pelzer trilogy is The Lost Boy, chronicling Dave’s life in foster homes from the age of twelve to eighteen. Again I have come to the end and feel immediately like I have to put a few other books in between this and the next and final book, A Man Named Dave. I don’t feel like another book is necessary but have decided to read it for the sake of completeness.At the start of the book, Dave insists this one is written using the language and perspective he had at that age. He also insisted the same thing in the last book. This is not a completely accurate description as many times I felt the writing to be reflective and also some of it beyond the years of the under-educated teenager he was at the time. We catch up with Dave where we left him in the last book, in the passenger seat of a police car heading outside the city limits, where after medical examinations he meets his social worker and is placed in the first of five foster homes.Living in a foster home is very different from where Dave has come from and throughout the years that follow he struggles to find his place in the homes and in school. He has a stint or two in a juvenile detention hall and is passed around a bit until he settles down and decides where he wants to go in life.More than anything I found this book to be a testament to the hard work of social workers and foster parents. Their job is far from easy and yet they strive to remove child from abusive homes and place them suitably, and provide them with the help they need. The part of the book I found most worth reading was after the Epilogue, the section entitled Perspectives on Foster Care which contained statements from Dave’s foster mother, a juvenile detention worker and a teacher. I found this to be an eye-opening view on the foster system and I appreciate the acknowledgement of foster carers and other authors of works on being a child in the foster system. If this content could be expanded further it would make for a great read on the work of foster carers and an insight to the foster system. Just maybe leave Dave Pelzer out. He’s got plenty of books under his belt already and we all know his perspective.As for the content itself, I enjoyed reading this book more than I did A Child Called ‘It’. But considering it is supposed to be an autobiographical memoir, some of the recollections from his life as described in the first book had facts that didn’t match up, which makes you question the credibility of the ‘memoir’. It could simply be due to the passage of time, he was only a child so of course he’s not going to remember everything and things get mixed up. I would have hoped that the editor would fix this up but clearly it wasn’t noticed or was ignored. These kind of things can be infuriating for a reader like me.A slight improvement. 2.5 stars.
  • (4/5)
    This book is about a boy who use to get abused by his mother and in up in a foster home. He was happy to be a foster kid into he found out how people treat them. So he stared tyo think he"s not going to be anything in life. He started to hang with the big kids and he started to steal. and he really didnt care about school anymore. so now he's jumping from house to house meeting new foster familys.
  • (5/5)
    I thought this book really gave insight to just how bad a child can suffer from child abuse. How some parents can be so cruel to their children and this story shows how the so called "system" does truly the best effort to help children that are vicitms of abuse. And how children that are foster children and abused as small children can grow up and become something great. It is a very touching and sincere book and i enjoyed reading it.
  • (5/5)
    good book, but i like te first oe better.
  • (4/5)
    David Pelzer continues the story he began in A Child Called It, picking up from the time he entered foster care. A very confused boy who wants to be 'good' and be loved, he seeks out approval in sometimes disastrous ways. I found this very true to the lived experiences I've witnessed as a social worker. These days, David would have been diagnosed with Reactive Attachment Disorder and provided additional services, as well as his foster parents would have been. Taking place in the early days of the child protection and foster care system, it was evident that all the people involved were doing the best they could with what they had to work with. I commend Pelzer, his workers and his various parental figures for their fortitude. People who call Pelzer's memoirs unbelievable or unrelatable have no idea what they're talking about.