Lost And Found

 Chapter 1
Memories…

The car was coming straight towards me, I knew I had to move but I couldn’t. I saw someone running through the crowd, someone familiar… but I didn’t look long enough to realize fully. My thoughts were distracted by the car speeding towards me at over 50 miles per hour. I sunk to the ground, each part of my body blessing the coolness of it on my sun burnt skin. I was sure this would be the last sensation I would feel, but I was wrong. Strong hands grabbed me, I was sure the warmth of their hands was a dream. After all you couldn’t feel things if you were dead could you? It was only when my body slammed against a lamp post I knew I was alive-just. The stranger was standing protectively around me as people swarmed round. 

“No she’s fine” A distinct man’s voice repeated to all the on lookers “Don’t worry I can manage she’ll be fine” His voice was still echoing in my head and I wished I could focus on his face but everything was blurred. I heard a few people gasp when my body hit the floor, but then just like in the movies everything went black.

Someone was humming. It was a tuneless sound but it brought each of my senses to light. There was a steaming mug of coffee placed in between his hands and he was casually flicking through the TV channels in a house I didn’t recognise. Only when I got a proper look I saw that it was huge, there were expensive looking paintings on every cream wall, on the flawlessly white carpet there was a long, expensive, pale brown rug and in front of me there was a mahogany table and two cream sofas with a TV in the gap. He was sitting there, all six foot of him. I studied his face, and although my vision was still slightly hazy, I recognised him instantly, Apollo. My heart skipped a beat. Ever since he left me and my heart I hadn’t seen him but what was he doing here in Rome? Only when I tried to sit up did he realise I was awake. He came over and put his arm round me so I could sit properly, then he handed me a cup of steaming tea, which I took gratefully. “That’s a nasty cut on your leg there…” His voice, it was the same as I remembered, deeper but still as gentle, “Gosh, I haven’t seen you for ages after, well…” He cleared his throat awkwardly, “Since I…left you…” His voice trailed off and he looked the other direction, out of a huge glass wall-like window out to the surroundings of Rome. It was a beautiful sight. He turned to face me, still his face apologetic, “Would you like a Gin and Tonic?” I nodded my head, and he got up and walked over to the drinks table which was more like a full size bar in his living room. I placed my empty tea cup on the table and waited whilst he poured us each a generous measure of drink in slightly too fancy looking glasses. “Here you go” He said as he handed me the glass. “Thank you, oh I’m so sorry for all the trouble…” Before I finished my apology he raised a much tanned hand to silence me, “Never mind that, Chantelle, tell me what happened after I left you? I swear not a day has gone by when I haven’t regretted my decision, so please ragazza graziosa, tell me what happened?” Pretty girl? So, he still had the same old charm to him. “It’s an awfully long story but the ragazza graziosa doesn’t work for me these days… and besides my story I wouldn’t know where to begin…” I pondered, still wondering whether I should tell him when he said “Start from the beginning when you were young and your childhood until we were still together, tell me everything…” He indicated for me to start. I sucked in a deep breath and tried to remember my earliest days. Soon they came flooding back to me and I began my story. The story that changed my life forever…

Part 1
‘When’s Mummy coming back?’

Chapter 2
When I was 6…

 I was only six when the arguments started.

“You useless idiot! How could you be so stupid? You know if you leave Amy unattended in the garden you know she will go for anything! That’s twice she’s almost fallen into the pond!”  Mum screamed at dad as she picked up a dripping, muddy Amy, who was my younger sister at the time, and brought her in the kitchen. She shoved her in my hands and told me to bath her at set her down for bed. I trudged up the stairs with Amy in my arms muttering to myself. How they expected me to do everything around this place. It was so unfair!

Whilst I ran her bath, I undressed her despite her struggles. When I was about to take her and put her in the bath, mum came storming up the stairs to our room, yelling at me to hurry up with Amy. I heard her stumble around in our bedroom for a moment, then a smash of glass was heard from downstairs and she wandered off shouting at Father. I sighed and put her in the shallow bath tub and gently started lathering shampoo into her long, silky, blonde hair, the way mum used to do it for me. I filled the jug with water and sloshed it over her hair to wash out the bubbles. I took me several goes to get it out but eventually I did and she sat there giggling silently like the mad hatter, spraying bubbles everywhere. Great, another job for me to do! When I lifted her out the bath she crossed her arms in protest but I ignored her and started rubbing her down with an old, small towel. When she was dry, I started wriggling her into her old, tatty pyjamas and carried her into the bedroom. I lay her down and tucked her up. She lifted her hands up to me, so I gave her a kiss on each cheek – just like mum – and a raspberry on her forehead. When I turned round to leave she started clapping her hands and indicated to the book that was once mine when I was little, for a story. I sighed as she handed me Cinderella. I hated it now, but never the less I still read it to her. It was only when I finished the book for the second time did she eventually fall asleep in my arms.

 I crept out of our room and went downstairs to see mum was still shouting at dad. Sighing, I went into the kitchen to make myself a sandwich, because Mother was having one of her ‘wobbly moments’ as she called them. I had to make sure Amy was bathed and fed despite the fact I was only six. I could cook and clean and be left home alone after school and pick up Amy from her nursery. Well I had no choice. Mother was always late for work or out with her important people and Father was with his important people too, but he always came home smelling strange and unfriendly and he wasn’t in a very good mood for long. We were struggling, even I knew that. I overheard Mother saying that we were put into recession by a stupid house rent. When I asked what that was Father just said that we paid him the amount we signed for but were kicked out because he hadn’t told us about the increase. I still didn’t understand what he meant but now we were living in a converted bungalow which was small and cramped instead of our lovely house that we were borrowing from a nice man who called me button, even though I told him my name was Chantelle.

 Suddenly, I realised that I hadn’t cleaned the bathroom after Amy’s bath and Father would not be happy. I hid the sandwich in my pocket and tried to sneak out of the kitchen, past the living room as silently as possible but I knocked over our umbrella stand. I held my breath as my Father came out of the living room.

“And what do you think you’re doing sneaking around at this time of a night?” He glared at me and took a few more steps forward, “Well?”

I didn’t speak, mostly because I was too frightened but also I had learnt that it was better not to. It wasn’t the first time I had seen him like this. Is face was just inches from mine now and I could smell the sickly sweet sherry breath of his. It burned like fire in my nostrils and mouth. He was spitting at me now with rage.

“What have you got to say for yourself, Chantelle?” When I didn’t still say anything he rose himself up to full height and picked up a walking cane from the umbrella stand. He took me by the shoulders and spun me round. The cane was brought down so hard and fast on my lower back I didn’t have time to prepare myself and it knocked the wind out of me. I flew forward, coughing and spluttering, into the cluttered, broken table. Blood oozed out of my left arm where I caught it on the corner of a broken point. I was determined not to give him his satisfaction by crying so I just bit my lip and grit my teeth when I turned to face him.

“You’re drunk” I whispered these two words but still as accusing and harshly as I dared. The comment threw him off guard slightly for a moment but when he regained his thoughts he finally snapped. I crouched there hiding my head from harms reach. A hard blow from a fist was brought down on my shoulder and another on my back. He picked me up and threw me against a wall. I heard a crunch and a sharp pain in my right middle finger. It was broken-again, it had only just recovered from when I fell over in P.E when a girl ran into me and it was still fragile and tender.

Father was still in a fit of rage and banging things all down the corridor so I decided I would make a break for it. I ran up the stairs to my room and locked the hatch. Our bedroom was in the roof and we had our own bathroom up there too. It was better up here because we couldn’t hear what Mother and Father were saying to each other. They used to be happy and we used to have a pretty bedroom with lots of pink. Now we didn’t have anything pretty or pink, and it smelled. Mostly though, it was cold at night but really stuffy in the daytime, especially in summer.

Amy was sitting up in bed crying again. I went over and sat on my bed and she instantly came over and snuggled in with me. I looked into her big honey brown eyes that were filled will tears and felt instantly bad so I held her tightly to my chest and whispered consoling things to her. She burrowed her head against my stomach and I let out a little gasp and instantly regretted it. She pushed away from me and lifted my top up to reveal my purple and black stomach. Gently, she put her soft hand there and rubbed it. Strangely, it felt very good on my hot skin but suddenly she was up and pulling me into the bathroom. Grabbing a stool she stood up on it and looked in the little cupboard. After a few moments of looking she brought out some soothing cream I used on her when she bruised her knee. I was amazed, for a four year old she was quite smart even though she only went to nursery. When I tried to take the bottle from her she slapped my hand and started rubbing it in herself. Then I helped her wash her hands because she wasn’t quite tall enough to reach the sink and then pulled me into the bedroom. She got my pyjamas out and helped me into bed. Once she was satisfied I was tucked up as much as possible she got into her own bed and turned off the little lamp.

Whilst I laid there I could hear her gentle breathing and Mum and Dad still arguing down stairs. I rolled over gingerly and closed my eyes. No doubt about it, I was proud of my little sister. I even dreamt of her that night. Most of the time she was smiling and it made me happy. She hardly smiled now. The rest of the time she was doing simple things like eating a sweet, or I was brushing her hair but each thing made me feel warm inside. That night I made a promise to myself I would never let anything happen to her and I would look after her for as long as she needed me.

The next day, I woke up lying on my back and all I could do was open my eyes. Gripped by panic I tried to lift my head, an arm, a finger, even wiggle a toe but I couldn’t. With much pain I moved my lips enough to call softly to my sister who had just come out of the shower. She came out with a towel wrapped around her but when she saw me she put her dressing gown on and ran over. Although she didn’t speak, she was a mute, she ran to the bathroom and grabbed a cool flannel and dabbed it over my body. She used to speak until one day Mother and Father were in one of their moods and she saw it all. So I taught her sign language, I took a little book out from the school library and snuck it out in my bag. I didn’t want to force her to speak; she was too scared and would just shake her head.

She sat next to me on the bed dabbing and shaking her head at the same time. Suddenly, she had an idea she made a sign saying she wanted to roll me over.

 I whispered, “Yes, but be careful”

Immediately she pushed me round and I forced myself to move my arms which were stiff, even though I had no idea why. Once I was over she lifted my pyjama top up and started rubbing my back with more of the cream. After a moment, tight pain in my back slowly released. I wondered how she had known what to do but then I suddenly remembered I had to do the same for her when she was three after she had fallen down the stairs in our old house and she had bruised her back. Finally I could just about move my arms enough to prop myself up and study my battered body. I had bright purple bruises everywhere and all I could think about was what people where going to say at school.

 

The first time I had been hit by Father was about a month after we moved into the bungalow. He came home and was drunk and he started yelling at me. Mother was really scared and when she told him to stop he slapped her round the face and she was crying. When I tried to see if she was okay he pushed me backwards and I fell over. Mother screamed and I cried too then went to get up and run, to see Amy standing there. She was two and I was three. Her eyes were wide and a tear ran down her cheek. Mother ran into the kitchen and shut herself in there. Father shut us in the living room and told us not to move. He went to see Mother and about an hour later Mother came out looking fierce and her makeup was smudged. She was clutching a black eye and a red hand mark claimed one of her cheeks.

“Mommy?” Amy said.

“Shut up Amy” She snarled, “If you ever dare say another word you will regret it” Amy opened her mouth as if to say something else then Father glared at her. So she didn’t, and that was the last thing she said.

From then on I had had to teach my sister everything in silence. I showed her how to help me cook and clean but I had to help her dress properly for nursery and sometimes she could shower on her own if I was sleeping. It was a painful process but she caught on quickly thankfully. She was naturally independent and curious when she was two, but ever since we moved she became closed in and shy.

Awkwardly, I helped her into her clothes and brushed her hair like I had in the dream. Then I dressed myself. It dawned on me that I had to change for PE again and the teacher almost defiantly would not let me off for a few bruises.

I walked Amy to nursery, hand in hand, being careful of my broken finger. I kissed her forehead and she turned to walk in. At the door as usual, she looked back and smiled at me. A brief smile. It was a smile I will never forget. Slowly, I made my way to school with a slight limp. I couldn’t let it show. My bandaged fingers hurt like crazy but there was nothing I could do about that now. I never did blame Amy for being mute. She was scared, and so was I. We were so close; we felt each other’s pain.

Later that day, when I was getting changed for PE, I felt everyone’s eyes staring at my battered skin. I heard their whispers. They tickled at my skin like it always did when someone spoke about me behind my back. Rumours flooded the school, throughout all the years that I was anorexic. I don’t really understand what that means but I guess it is something about my weight. I’m not naturally skinny; it comes from going for sometimes days of no food because of an empty cupboard or eating something bad and being ill. I used to be a healthy weight but it shows how bad it is for you eating so little. I have no real friends at this school. I was moved here and no one wanted to know me. I’ve always been frowned upon as being the ‘freak with the strange family’. They aren’t far wrong. But they won’t accept help.

“Chantelle!” My thoughts were interrupted by Miss Lodge barking out the register.

“Here Miss,” I mumble. She tuts disapprovingly at me and I hang my head. My ears are burning and I know it.

Amy isn’t smiling when I pick her up from school. She looks sad so I pick her up and swing her round once despite the searing pain in my arms. Not even a slight smile. She just cocks her head to the side and stares up at me with her gorgeous brown eyes. I walk home with her, hand in hand again and when we open the door we are greeted with the usual gut-retching smell of alcohol and sick. I tell Amy to go upstairs and wait for me in our room. I creep round the frame of the living room door. Again, I see the sight of our parents lying heaped on the sofa. Unconscious. Scared, I tip-toe into the room and gather up the empty bottles just as I had seen them do before and put them under the sofa, behind the cabinet and a few in the recycling bin outside. Then I join Amy upstairs, she is sitting there twisting her headscarf around her fingers. Weaving them in and out. She has put my jeans and an old top that is about two sizes too small for me on my bed. I sigh and get changed. My bruises have swelled when I look in the mirror. I nip into the bathroom and grab the cream. There isn’t much left but I make it do. I try not to grimace and show that it hurts in front of Amy. But she knows. She always knows...

Chapter 3
Our first poor Christmas

“Do you know what day it is?” I asked Amy when she woke up that morning. She shook her head, “It’s Christmas Eve” Her eyes widened for a moment then her face fell, “I know, I know, but we don’t need them, we can have a special tea party and have our own Christmas up here tomorrow” She looked excited when I said this. I had it all planned in my head. I would take the new loaf of bread from the bread bin and some butter and ham to go in it. Then I would get some crisps from the corner shop today and little cake. I had turned seven in June and Amy turned five in September. I made a big fuss for her that day and I didn’t take her to school for her special day. I didn’t tell Amy when it was my birthday because I didn’t want her to feel bad. I didn’t know how I was going to get everything from the shop. I had come up with one idea of getting the money from Mothers purse, that’s if she actually had any then I would have to use it sparingly. I was already dressed but I had left Amy to sleep in for a little bit.

“I’m going to the shop, be good and get dressed for me” She nodded and signed ‘OK’ to me.

I pulled on a jacket that was beginning to fit me again from the weight I had lost. I checked that Mother and Father were still in their room and asleep then I went into the kitchen and went to Mothers purse. It was empty. I felt my stomach drop and I wanted to cry. Instead, I riffled through the draws and cupboards until I came across what I was looking for. A savings jar. I unscrewed the lid and took out five pound coins then quickly replaced the lid and put the jar in the cupboard. Being as quite as I could I took the key from the dish and closed the front door behind me. The December air chilled me through my jacket and I shivered whilst forcing my legs to work. I could feel the money in my tightly curled fists that were jammed in my pockets as far as they would go. I hurried to the shop and once inside I felt a lovely warm breeze.

“Unlikely seeing you here, Chantelle” The shop assistant observed.

“Well, Mother said I could get something as a little treat for Amy and I” He looked doubtful but wasn’t fooled. I looked at the selection of crisps and picked up a bag of wotsits for Amy and some mini chedders for me. That came to two pounds twenty-five. Then I looked at the selection of cakes and biscuits. I picked up a little chocolate cake that was two pounds fifty, then a packet of chocolate digestive biscuits. It all came to six pounds thirty. I didn’t have enough. The shop assistant went behind the little curtain and I seized the chance. I snuck the biscuits into my pocket and went up to the cash register to pay. I held my breath as I paid and didn’t dared breathe until I left the shop.

I had just stolen, I thought. Guilt flooded through me and settled in my stomach and clogged up my throat making me want to choke. What would happen if he caught me? I shook my head defensively. He was not 

going to catch me. I wouldn’t go into the shop again for a long time, he didn’t have any proof I took them. 

It’s for Amy; I forced myself into thinking as I flew home, as far away from the shop as I could be.

When I walked through the door I tried not to retch at the usual smell and not knock anything over. I tiptoed up the stairs and opened the hatch to hear Amy was still in the bathroom. Sighing with relief I stowed the food in my little bedside cabinet and sat huddled on my bed. It was really cold and draughty. I picked up the spare holey blankets and stuffed them in all the little gaps that could be letting in any cold, then sat back down on my bed and wrapped myself up in my duvet. Amy came out the bathroom, washed and dressed with damp hair wrapped in a towel. We had no hair dryer and our hair was often wet which gave us colds. She shivered as she felt the draught and hurried to get dressed so she was warm again. When she was dressed she sat on my bed with me and we shared the duvet.

Where did you go? She signed to me. I tapped my nose and said, “Surprise” She pulled a face at me then said,

What do we do today? I shrugged; “We can stay up here if you want” She shrugged too and nodded. I looked around, the room was messy still and I began contemplating whether to tidy up.

Messy. Amy spelled out to me. “I know” I said. Sighing, I got up and pulled the heaps of clothes into neater; slightly folded, separated piles on our beds. I heard a draw open and guessed Amy was putting them away. Our clothes hardly ever got washed unless we put them in the bath with hot water for a while then dried them out by hanging them up. We never really did that though unless they were really dirty. Then I went into the bathroom and hung the towels back up. They were horrible and scratchy on our skin but they were the only ones we had. In the bedroom I heard Amy shutting the draws then opening mine and putting my clothes in there too. She never complained about anything. Well, she couldn’t actually complain out loud, but there was never a protest. She just did things without me asking her to do them. Even if I told her not to she still would. If we had to go a night without dinner she never got mad at me. If we went a day without food she didn’t complain either. It was hard because our stomachs were constantly rumbling and it sometimes even kept us awake at night but we still went on, day after day.

When I looked at all the girls at school they had pretty new uniforms and shiny shoes and pretty school bags with pencil cases full of rubbers, rulers, colouring pencils and pens, sharpeners and lots of other things. They had pretty brushed and clean hair that was never messy and always cut nicely by a nice hairdresser that gave them sweets for being good girls. Their Mother’s would pick them up from school every day and take them shopping or give them money to get themselves sweets at the shop if they asked for them.

The shop. I had forgotten about it for a moment and the guilt flooded back to me. Then I felt angry that I had had to steal and that I didn’t get all the nice things that those girls did. It wasn’t my fault that it was too expensive and I wanted to make a lovely picnic for Amy and I. Was it? I shook my head and joined Amy in the bedroom. She was sat on my bed again and I sat with her. She yawned and before I could stop myself I yawned too. We looked at each other and laughed. Well, I laughed and she just smiled and shook as if she was hysterically laughing. It felt good to be able to laugh at something so simple.

Suddenly, I was aware that Mother and Father had woken up. I heard them clattering around downstairs. Someone swore as a pan fell off the counter and glass smashed. Then a yell shook the house.

“Chantelle!” Father called up to me, “Clean this mess up, now!” Amy shrank back as he yelled and I fled to 

open the hatch.

“Coming Father” I called as I ran down the stairs. When I looked in the kitchen Mother was crying and Father was standing in front of a broken glass mess. He pointed to it, clicked his fingers then resumed drinking Vodka out of the bottle. He leant back to far and sloshed some over his face. I had to supress a giggle by looking down and picking up the bigger pieces of glass and throwing them into the trash. Then I swept the rest up with a little dustpan and brush and put that in the bin too. I looked up at Father waiting for him to dismiss me. He walked forward until he was about a foot away from me. I could smell the Vodka from where he was standing before but now it was even more over powering. He took a small packet out of his pocket and a piece of what looked like paper. He put a bit of stuff from the packet on the paper then rolled it up. He took out a lighter and clicked it. A yellow flame appeared and he waved it slowly around in front of my face. I flinched slightly and he laughed,

“Never play with fire, Chantelle, or you will get burnt” He held the flame to the rolled up paper and lit the end. It didn’t burst into flames; it just turned the end slightly yellow. He sucked on the other end then blew smoke all over my face. I tried not to gag but I couldn’t help coughing. He looked at me,

“Can’t handle it?” He brought his face closer to mine, “Deal with it” He snarled. I felt myself shaking as he took the lighter back out. He clicked it again and waved it around.

“Get it away from me” I said weakly.

“What, are you scared? Is little baby Chantelle scared?” He mocked me, bringing the flame closer to my face, clicking it over and over again, “Well, how do you like this?” He pulled my arm out and brought the flame down hard on my arm. I yelped in pain and tried to pull my arm back but he had a firm grasp on my wrist. Mother screamed.

“Let go of her!” She begged. Sobbing, she went behind him and beat his back with her curled up fists. He acted like he didn’t feel a thing and took the scorching metal off my skin. He pulled my arm and dragged me closer so my face was inches from his.

“I tried to warn you but you didn’t listen. You will always get burnt when you play with fire” He pushed my hand down and let go of me. I took the chance and ran up to the bedroom again. I didn’t pause to look at Amy; I just ran into the bathroom and put the burnt skin under cold water. It stung like crazy but I held it there. Tentatively, Amy knocked on the door and entered. She looked at my arm running under the cold tap and then looked at my face.

“It’s nothing” I murmured.

You screamed. She spelt out. You are hurt. These came as a statement rather than a question and I just nodded. She turned round and scampered into the bedroom. I turned off the tap, dried my arm and followed her. She was sat on the floor, rocking backwards and forwards. Tears rolled down her face and I went over to her. My arm was tender but I didn’t care. I had upset Amy on Christmas Eve. I felt terrible to say the least.

“Come on Amy, I’m okay, see?” I wriggled my arm around a bit. I got nothing. She just stared at me, “Amy, this is our special day; nothing will ruin it okay, and tomorrow will be even better” She still rocked but sniffed and stopped crying. I held out my hand and she held it so I helped pull her up so she was standing and she buried her head in my stomach, “I’m sorry, Amy, I am so sorry” I whispered to her. I wasn’t sure entirely what I was sorry for but it felt right saying it.

That night I lay in bed and I tossed and turned in my dreams. The shop keeper’s kind face. The biscuits under my bed. Father’s face when he burnt me. Mother screaming. Amy rocking backwards and forwards. Then suddenly after everything flashed through my mind like wildfire there would be nothing, just blackness. I felt like I was falling down and down into a big hole that never ended. I woke up sweating and thrashing my arms around. Amy was sitting up in bed, her chest rising and falling rapidly. I could hear her breathing was shallow and uneven. Was she having a nightmare too? She didn’t move when she saw I was awake. She just sat there, wide eyed and fixed on my eyes, never leaving my gaze. My chest was expanding so rapidly too I felt like I had been running, not sleeping. Strange warmth flooded up my arm where it had been burnt and became increasingly hot and uncomfortable. Neither of us said anything still. In the dim light I guessed the sun was just about to rise. The burning sensation was becoming worse and worse and my head felt dizzy. My back and neck were sticky with sweat I suddenly felt very light headed. I stumbled into the bathroom and put my hand under the cold tap and turned it on so a long stream of water tumbled over it. When I studied the burn it was fairly small, maybe not even a centimetre in diameter but it stung like crazy. About five minutes later I turned off the tap and dried my arm again. I still felt light headed and sick from the dreams. Guilt was living inside of me and twisting itself around every little thought I had, never letting me forget about it.

I slumped to the floor and rested my head on the cold tiled floor. I shivered then sighed deeply. My head was still swimming in and out of focus and I was sure it would explode. I just need to sleep this off, I thought. The thought of sleeping scared me, what if I didn’t wake up? What if something happened to Amy? Was Amy okay, should I go see her? The thinking hurt my head even more so I tried counting to ten over 

and over again until I eventually fell back to sleep.

When I awoke my forehead and cheek hurt from lying on the tiles and half of my body had pins and needles. I sat up and wondered for a moment where I was then I remembered and scrambled up and into the bedroom. Amy was still sitting in the same place but was flopped slightly to the side and was asleep. I went over to her and shook her arm gently. Her eyelids fluttered and she looked at me.

“Merry Christmas” I said, desperately trying to be cheerful. She cracked a tiny smile and signed ‘Merry Christmas’ back to me. I grinned too. I checked the clock and it was already one o’clock in the afternoon. Had we really slept that long? We had slept for most of Christmas Day. From staining my ears I didn’t think Mother or Father were up.

“Come on, let’s get ready” I said and in response Amy got up and got some clothes out of the draws and I did the same. Amy picked up a denim skirt that she had had since she was three but luckily still fit her even though I had no idea how, and a top that made her belly peek out if she lifted her arms up. I was taller than her but as equally small so my jeans fit around my legs but exposed my ankles and I pulled on a top that was stripy and pink that I had had to cut the sleeves off of because it was too tight for my shoulders. We looked a mess but it didn’t matter. I nipped in the bathroom and brushed my teeth with my old toothbrush. I saved the toothpaste for Amy because we hardly had any and if Mother was ever sober that’s when she would get us some if she remembered. Recently, she hadn’t though. Mother had turned into a red eyed wreak and was constantly at the mercy of Father. Not that he was a merciful person anymore. Mother’s screams scared us the moment, she wasn’t usually violent, she was quick and hurtful with her words but deep down I knew she was as scared of Father as Amy and I are. Her drinking has got worse and worse. More and more we’d wake up to Mother shrieking and Father slapping her. It was nights like those that Amy and I would share my bed and I would sing softly to her the lullabies that Mother would sing to me when I was little. I finished brushing my teeth and Amy and I swapped rooms so she could do her teeth and I could get dressed. I ran my fingers through my hair and pulled it into a pony tail with a broken hair band that wasn’t very stretchy anymore. When Amy came out of the bathroom she signed, hungry.

“Sorry, Amy, we will wait until later” I said regretfully but she just smiled and shrugged. I had no idea what we would do until whenever later was but I knew I had to sneak downstairs and get the bread before Mother and Father woke up. I told Amy to wait there whilst I went downstairs. I slid the hatch lock open and lifted it. Still nothing. I tiptoed down them, I was lucky they didn’t creek. I paused in front of their bedroom and listened, strangely I heard nothing. I pushed the door open a crack with my toe and peeped in. They weren’t there. I felt slightly unnerved. Quickly, I checked the living room and kitchen. Still they weren’t there. Puzzled I grabbed the loaf of bread, butter, butter knife and ham from the fridge. I ran upstairs with the goodies and stashed them under my bed. Amy was clearing the bathroom again.

“Amy?” I called. She came out, yes? “Did you hear Mother and Father go out?” She shook her head,

 Where are they? She asked.

“I don’t know, but the house is empty” It wasn’t the first time we had been left home alone but this time it felt weird because we usually heard them. Amy looked unsettled to but we said no more.

“I have a surprise for you Amy” I watched her expression change, “Close your eyes” She did as she was told and I pulled everything out from under my bed and laid them out in front of her, “Open” When she did, I thought her jaw was going to detach itself from her face it fell open so wide. I grinned sheepishly and began cutting the bread and buttering it and putting ham in between the slices. She picked up her crisps and started tucking into them, taking bites of crisps and chasing it down with sandwiches. Then she took in the cake and her eyes bogged.

“Don’t get used to this, Amy, it’s just a special Christmas Day” She sighed but nodded and accepted that.

We tucked in quickly because it was impossible to slow down and savour every bite. Between the two of us we devoured half the bread, all the ham, our crisps, half the cake but saved the biscuits for boxing day.

Thank you, pretty sister. Amy signed to me. Too lazy to speak I signed back; You’re welcome, beautiful sister. It was only six o’clock but we were tired from all the food we had eaten and I was sure that was the most we had ever eaten.

As I closed my eyes I remembered a time when I was six and upset because of Father and Amy was at school, I ran to the seafront and watched all the people walking along eating ice cream and doughnuts and a funny man with big feet that made flowers appear out of nowhere. Then I watched the girls and boys scream on the big rollercoaster’s that I wish I could go on. I even went right to the edge of the sea and dipped my toes in the surf until it was time to get Amy from school. One day I want to take Amy there when it’s lovely and warm. I hadn’t told her that had gone there so she wouldn’t be upset and so I could surprise her by taking her there. We sat around for a while signing to each other about nothing in particular before clambering into bed. We only stayed up till eight o’clock because I could see Amy was yawning and I was tired too.

“Night” I murmured from the depths of my duvet. Amy signed goodnight then switched off the lamp. In the darkness I lay there, for once felt content and full. I couldn’t remember the last time a rumbling stomach hadn’t kept me awake.

Chapter 4

When I was 8…

Sadness clawed at our house. Our Mother passed away a few weeks after I turned eight. She was rushed to hospital with severe alcohol poisoning from spending a whole day drinking at a pub. If it were possible, my now six year old sister is even more quiet and frequently tears rolled from her eyes. Father, however, was even more violent and sometimes went days just sleeping. There was nothing we could do to help him. To be honest we usually stay out of his way anyway, he would only find something to shout at us about. He blames Mothers death on me. Apparently, I’m a disappointment and should never have been born. I never used to believe it when he told me in a drunken rage, but now, the more he says it, the more I’m beginning to believe it. I had a day off school today so I’m lying on my bed cuddling my teddy bear thinking about Mother and watching the seconds tick by until I pick Amy up from school. For hours I sit there, reminiscing, desperately trying to remember Mothers laughing face, her happy face. Not the face that I saw with her head between her knees or over the toilet bowl. Or the one when she was snoring or unconscious on the sofa, but I had nothing. Nothing at all. I didn’t like crying, I tried not to do it often and I didn’t really cry when Mother died. I suppose it’s just because I’ve never known her not to be abusive or drunk. I did love her, but I have always questioned whether she loved me back. She never did the simple things that I see other Mothers do like cook a meal, take you shopping and get you pretty jewellery or even tuck you up in bed at night. And I’ve never seen the Fatherly things that Fathers are supposed to do like teach you how to tie your shoes, swing you up on his shoulders or chase you around the house when you nick his slippers. 

But I got nothing. I still got nothing.

It pained me when we had to write a poem about the relationship with our parents in class. I started crying so I got sent out the classroom to compose myself whilst the teacher tried to get it out of me, but I wouldn't tell her, I didn't tell anyone. In the end she gave up. Like everyone else did, just gave up on me. It was better that way. Amy still didn't speak and people often bullied her. I got in trouble for shaking one of the boys that jeered at her but at least they didn't do it again. It wasn't as if Father cared about either of us, and we just had to get on with it. He never attended our parent’s evenings; he never paid for school trips and our birthdays he never bothered to celebrate. I don't even think he knows when our birthdays are.

He doesn't have any more immediate family, no siblings and his parents passed when he was young and he was put in care.

Mother’s parents disowned her at 17 but she never told us why. Now I guess we'll never know. And she doesn't have any siblings as far as she knows.

When I re-checked my clock I had to go and get Amy. Father was lying on the sofa; a strange smelling gas filled the room so I shut the door, picked up the keys in the dish and tiptoed out the room. The fresh air was blissful in my lungs, the usual reek of alcohol made me feel sick and light headed. Without realising, my feet carried me to the Infants school; my mind was lost in a day dream. When she saw me she ran up to me in tears. Her teacher, who was standing in the door way, came over to me.

“Are your parents around?” She asked.

“Parent” I corrected her, “And no, what’s happened?”

“We need to discuss a matter with them about Amy’s behaviour...”

“I’ll give them a message” I was challenging her and I knew it but I didn’t care. Amy’s behaviour? Surly not! She was as good as gold at home.

“She was caught writing on the walls and the desks the word ‘Mummy’ and she pushed a young girl over in the playground, tell your parents... or parent, that I would like them to call us as soon as you get home”

“I’ll see, but he is awfully busy” If sleeping, drinking and smoking came under the term ‘busy’ then that would be true, unfortunately, I didn’t think it was. Great, now I’ve lied to an Infants teacher, “But I’ll talk to Amy tonight, goodbye” I picked Amy up and carried her away. I could feel her tiny body heaving with small sobs. I gently stroked her back and made a few ‘shhh’ noises and she eventually stopped crying when we reached home. My arms ached from carrying her but I unlocked the door and carried her up the stairs to our room. I sat her down on her bed and wiped her eyes with some tissue from the bathroom.

“What happened sweetie?”

She scribbled on a wipe board the school had given her, ‘The girl was nasty. So I pushed her. She said I was stupid because I can’t talk. Is that true?’

“Of course not!” I wanted to meet this girl and shake her, but I didn’t really want to get in trouble again, 

“What about the writing?”

She rubbed the board clean with her cardigan sleeve and wrote, ‘I’m sad’.

I lowered my voice and shifted positions so I was knelt down in front of her.

“Amy, I know you’re sad. I’m sad too. Even Father is sad” More scribbling and the reply was, ‘He doesn’t look sad, we never see him, how do you know he is sad?’ I thought for a moment, how could you possibly describe to a six year old who has just lost their Mother that his way of being sad was avoiding us and drinking himself to the point of destruction?

“Well, he was married to Mother, and he loved her” Well, he loved her once, I thought but I didn’t add it, “And when someone goes up to heaven they are very sad for a long time, so he wouldn’t want us to see him upset” LIES, LIES, LIES! I screeched the word over and over in my head until it hurt. But what was I supposed to do? Tell her that Mother died from alcohol poisoning and drug abuse? She was too young to have her mind tainted with any more sin and grief.

‘When is Mummy coming back?’ She looked up at me expectantly after she wrote these five words. Right now, tears were begging to come forward and run free down my face.

“Mummy isn’t coming back” I whispered. She shook her head and pointed to the question on her board again.

“Amy, Mummy isn’t coming back, I’m sorry”

‘I want my Mummy’ she wrote it in hard solid letters. Now tears did break free. I rubbed my fist over my heart which was the sign for ‘Sorry’.

‘I WANT MY MUMMY’ she wrote in capitals to show how angry she was from me not telling her where Mother was or when she was coming home.

She got up and stood in the middle of the room and started jumping, her mouth open in attempt to scream but no sound came out. Her arms thrashed around and she hit things. She slammed the wardrobe door closed. The whole time tears came pouring out of her eyes. I sat there for a moment frozen, and then I got up and held her. I let her hit me. I let her kick me too. I let her make my shoulder damp from tears. But I said nothing. After about ten minutes she finally subdued. I looked deeply into her eyes. I wiped the wet splotches on her face away and kissed her forehead. She wriggled out of my grasp and wrote something on her board. When she brought it back it said, ‘Why did Mummy leave? Was I naughty?’

 “No, baby, you weren’t naughty, you were an angel. She loved you so much. Mummy was really ill, really badly ill”

‘Will I get ill like that? Will you get ill like that?’ the innocence of the questions made my heart falter.

“No. I will never leave you. I promise”

‘Is Daddy ill like that too?’ I was silenced for a moment.

“I don’t know” I lied. It was easier to say than to believe. He was ill like Mother.

‘And Mummy’s gone forever and ever?’ I couldn’t do anything but nod.

‘I want Mummy. I want Mummy. I want Mummy.’ She wrote it over and over. I shook my head and she cried again. Amy was confused as to why she could never see Mother again. She collapsed onto the floor in a heap and rocked.

You get a feeling deep inside when you see a baby cry. You think ‘Aww, someone’s a bit grumpy today’. When you see an adult cry you think ‘Wow, this must be serious, you never see an adult cry’ but when you see a young child cry, you can’t express how you feel. When you see a child who is beside themselves with the fact that they will never see their Mother again and feel like it is their fault they are gone, you just want to shut out their grief-stricken sobs. But you know you can’t because they need you to depend on.

I went over to her and put my arm around her shoulders. She stopped rocking and I pulled her over to sit on my lap whilst I stroked her hair.

“I love you” I whispered. She pulled back, pointed to herself then crossed her arms over her chest, then pointed at me and then held up two fingers. I love you too. It was the first thing I taught her to sign. When she finished she re-attached herself to me. I never wanted to let her go, she was too precious to me now, and I couldn’t lose her, not another person.

Chapter 5
When I was 11...

Dad was walking in a slurred line towards me. His speech was wavering and his movements took forever but when they struck, they were fierce.

“Chantelle, come here, NOW!” He yelled the last word, but I stayed put, “I said, come here now” His voice was no longer raised, but menacingly quite and low, “Are you def? Oh how lovely, Chantelle has turned def! You’re the perfect match for your sister. Your def, she’s mute!” He cackled as he said this, my blood boiled. I lashed out and punched him in the chest.

“Don’t you ever say a word against my sister!” I yelled. Luckily, Amy was at junior school so she couldn’t hear the argument. I could see the anger flit through his eyes.

“Oh yeah” he growled as he began to advance, “and what are you going to do about it?” he said each word slowly as if there were an imaginary full stop between each word. My lip was trembling as I step backwards, trying to keep the distance between us. My back pressed up against the living room wall and I knew I was trapped. I tried everything to stop myself from coughing at the appalling smell that clung to everything. Soon his body was pressed right up against mine and his hands, which were on the wall, were the only thing that stopped him from crushing me. His face an inch away from my ear, he whispered,

“You can’t run now” I turned my head to the side so I was facing away from him. Quickly, I lifted my arms up to try and push him away but instead he grabbed my wrists and shoved them back up to the wall next to my head. Now I was trapped worse than before. Gagging, I turned to face him,

“Get off me, you’re a sick man”

“Oh, I’m a sick man am I?” He mocked my terrified voice.

“Yes. Get off me!” I hissed in his face.

“Make me” He mocked me again. No matter how much I pushed and shoved against the pressure of his body weighing into mine, I couldn’t budge him. He smirked at me. I wasn’t going to let him have his own way. He continued to laugh at me.

“There is no one here to help you, Chantelle. I’m your Father, I can do whatever I like and no one is around to question it” He threatened.

“You’re not much of a Father!” I accused, “You have pretty much abandoned Amy and I, you drink yourself until your drunk and smoke until you don’t know up from down!” No sooner were the words out of my mouth did I regret them. I bit my lip and shrunk back as far as I could. Unexpectedly, he took one of his hands away from the grasp he had over my left hand. I thought he was going to let me go. But he didn’t. He brought his right arm back far and slapped me, straight across the face. The sound of skin on skin echoed and pain flew up my face. Tears tried to escape my eyes but I held them back, afraid of what he might do if he knew I was scared. I swallowed the lump and face him.

“You’re not a Father to me” I whispered.

I’m not sure why he did it, in his drunken state who knows, but the next thing I know he was kissing me. I couldn’t move and he had my head locked. I was repulsed. So I bit down hard on his bottom lip. Yelping in pain he let go of me and I saw blood running down his chin. It took me a moment to realise I was free, when I did, I ran for it, out of the door and down the road barefoot wearing my mother’s oversized tee shirt and baggy sweats. I knew I looked a mess but I just kept on running, all the way to the school where I collapsed on the floor outside the gates, sobbing. It was two forty-five so I knew I only had fifteen minutes to wait before Amy would walk out those gates and I would have to take her home. I couldn’t take her home, could I? Father was drunk and in a very angry mood. Maybe I could take her to the park for an hour or so, I weighed up the options in my head. My cheek still stung from the slap and my mouth tasted like the one and a half bottles of red wine he had consumed. When I next looked up I saw a few other parents had arrived and were looking strangely at me. So I stood up. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a woman pop a polo into her mouth so I went over and asked for one. She looked surprised but gave me one anyway. It helped get rid of the foul taste.

Amy came out of school about a minute later and she ran up to me. I picked her up and twisted her around. Her teacher stood by the door and nodded to me. Since the conversation with Amy about Mother she was more behaved at school. At home for quite a few weeks she would cry a lot, especially at night. Now, three years on, she was nine and had begun to accept the fact that Mother wasn’t coming home. Mother never had a proper funeral. We just prayed. I spoke the words with Amy and she signed ‘amen’. I didn’t know what else to do. My cooking skills had developed so we had at least one meal a day, possibly two depending on whether we could pool enough money together to buy food. Sometimes when we were desperate we snuck into the bins outside Tesco of an evening and took the food out which was a day other its sell-by date or in perfectly good condition. It shocked me how wasteful people were.

Amy tugged on my sleeve and drew a picture of a house on her board with a question mark next to it.

“No sweetie, were not going home yet, I... I’m going to take you to the park” Her eyes lit up and clapped her hands in front of her face. I held her across the road and down a side alley which lead to the park. It was only small, lots of fields but it had swings, a few slides and a climbing frame with monkey bars. Immediately, she ran over to a swing and sat there waiting for me to catch up and push her. A huge grin appeared on her face, even at nine I realised no one was too old to have fun on the swings. After a while she began to swing herself so I swung myself on the one next to her. Despite being away from home and with Amy, I couldn’t shake the image of Father out of my head. The dark rings around his eyes. The clothes he had lived in for over a week. It made me shudder. When I turned round to look at Amy on the swing, I saw it was empty. I looked around and saw her going down the slide. I let my swing go lower and I jumped off before it stopped. Amy stood at the top of the slide; she looked like a princess, surveying the land. It made me wish that I had been able to do that as a child, go to the park and pretend to be a princess. Get pushed on the swings and climb on the monkey bars, even if someone was holding you to stop you falling, and that moment of pride when you can do it “all by myself”.

Amy is clapping her hands at me to help her with the monkey bars. I hold her legs and she pulls herself up and along on the bars. When she gets to the other side, she pushes my hands away and does it herself. All by herself.

It’s six o’clock when we get home. The sun was just setting and they sky is a gorgeous mixture of pink, yellow, orange, red and blue. I couldn’t hear Father moving around when we got inside, so I presumed he was asleep again. Quietly, we went upstairs and Amy started running a bath. The bedroom was stuffy and warm so I opened the big roof window and a fresh warm breeze rolled in. I heard Amy get in the bath and I looked around the room when I noticed something I never had before. A little door behind out draws. Curious, I pulled away the draws and opened the little slide bolt on the door. Dust flew out everywhere making me cough a bit but I ignored it and looked deeper in. A few boxes were there and I pulled them out. In the first box there were a whole selection of trinkets from our old house and I put a few up around our room to give it a nice feel. The second had our old dolls and princess posters in that used to be on our walls. I put those up too then open the third and final box. Inside were about seven notebooks. They were labelled with Mothers name and a date. I had found Mothers diaries from when she was younger. I put them all back in the box and hid them under the bed. My head started swimming so I lay down on the bed and just closed my eyes. I decided I wouldn’t look at the diaries yet, just seeing them scared me, I would wait until I was ready.

Chapter 6
When Father crosses the line

“Hey, how was school?” I ask Amy as she opens the hatch. She waves her hand side to side. So-so. I laugh. Today I let her try walking home from school on her own to give her some independence. I couldn’t walk her there every day.

I didn’t bother going to school. Instead I stayed at home and cleaned up our bedroom. Father left early that morning so I had no idea when he would walk through the door and what state he would be in either. I let that thought float out of my mind for a while and concentrated on persuading Amy to do her homework. As usual I won the argument and she sat on her bed with her textbook in front of her.

About an hour later I heard a click in the door. Father was home.

"Amy!" He roared. We both startled, he never usually called for Amy. She looked at me for a moment when went to the hatch. I followed her just enough so I could see him standing in the hallway but he couldn't see me spying.

"Oh, there she is, my darling, darling Amy" He slurred, "Why don't you speak to me, address me as your Father" Amy didn't say anything, her body just tensed. He took a step towards her. I held my breath.

"Address me as your Father" He spat, "Say something, you dumb, brain dead piece of..." He didn't get to finish his sentence, before I knew what was happening I had punched him so hard in the face he was flung backwards. Once he regained his balance he picked me up and threw me across the room then spun round to face Amy again.

"SPEAK!" He yelled, so loudly I could have sworn the room shook. Amy did nothing but shake her head. He yelled again and before I could stop it he slapped her round the face and she fell to the floor.

“Get off of her!” I screamed at him.

“What are you going to do about it?” He sneered, “Get up” He ordered Amy. Quiet as ever, she got up, nursing her cheek, “How about you speak now?” He moved closer to her. She was visibly shaking. When he got no reply he picked her up by her arms and pinned her against the wall for a moment before throwing her like he had thrown me to the floor. She cowered on the floor and as he towered over her. I seized my opportunity and struggled up, despite the pain and attacked him. I kicked him and he flew into the door. He smacked his head on the hard wood and passes out. I ran to Amy, she flinched as I did so. She was even scared of me. My blood boiled. How dare Father lay a finger on Amy? When he came to I was sure to give him a beating myself for it, no matter what the consequences.

Slowly, I helped Amy up and ushered her upstairs, I sat her down on the bed and calmed her down. I asked her to let me see if she had any injuries. When she showed me her back she had a long cut running down it. I limped to the bathroom and wet a flannel to dab on her back. She winced at the pain but soon was soothed by the coolness of it on her broken skin. I tried to force a smile but it wasn’t returned. I told her to lie down for a while with the flannel on her back whilst I went downstairs again. Father wasn’t by the door when I got down there so I ventured into the lounge. He was sitting there holding onto his bruised face. When he saw me he stood up but I was too quick for him. I lunged forward, taking him by the throat and pinned him against the wall.

“Don’t you ever hurt Amy again, do you understand me?” I hissed.

“And what if I do?” He mocked. I shifted my position so the length of my arm dug into his neck.

“This will happen” I pushed my arm into his neck more until I heard him rasp. Shock flitted in his eyes and I cocked my head to the side before letting him go and storming out the room. I heard him gasp for breath but I didn’t turn back.

Later that evening, I went downstairs again to get Amy and I something to eat. Father was in his room snoring but I made no effort to be quiet like I usually would. He had heard my threat; it was up to him what he wanted to do next.

I made us both some sandwiches and took them upstairs on the only piece of china I could find that wasn’t broken. We ate ravenously, even though Amy was still shaken up. She had never been hit by Father like I had. Sure she had seen me be hit by Father but she never knew the full force of his aggression.

Amy was still shaken up when we went to bed. I tucked her in. I was a bit jittery from my outburst to Father. I never would have dreamed of talking to him like that before, but no one ever touched Amy. Never. Ever. Not my baby sister. My fist clenched and I had to force myself to unclench them. The anger still fizzed low in the pit of my stomach, not mixing well with the sandwich. Why did he do that to her? For no reason too! I wanted to kill him. It felt so satisfying giving him a bit of the pain he gave me. It wasn’t nearly enough though. I wanted him to go through all the pain he gave me and more because no one ever would hurt my Amy and get away with it.

I got myself in my pyjamas and tuck myself up into bed when I feel calmer. I rest my head on the cool pillow and closed my eyes but I didn’t sleep. I tossed and I turned but I couldn’t get the images of Father hitting Amy out of my head. If he did it once, what’s to stop him from doing it again?

I was woken by Amy shaking me. I stumbled around for a moment, groggy from only a few hours sleep. I 

signed, what’s the time?, Because I was too sleepy to ask aloud. Two o’clock. She replied. I groaned, what’s the matter? I signed back. Still not acknowledging anything apart from the fact that it was two a.m. I can hear Father. She signed. But he was shouting and slamming the doors, he was shouting for Mummy. It took me another few minutes to process this. When I did, I sat up stock still in bed, all grogginess gone, listening for him. For a moment I heard nothing, and then an almighty crash was heard as a door slammed. We both jumped and I wondered how on earth I had slept through that. Then it was again. 

We both jumped again and the hairs on the back of my neck prickled. What was he doing?

“DANIELLE!” He roared. He was yelling for Mother just like Amy said he was, “DANIELLE DON’T WALK AWAY FROM ME!” Amy and I looked at each other puzzled. He still carried on, “DON’T LEAVE ME!” He screamed. It sounded so like an echo thudding through the house. We held our breath as we waited for him to say or do something else. A few moments passed and still nothing. We tiptoed to the hatch and cracked it open. No lights were on downstairs and we crept down the stairs. Another loud bang made us jump. It was coming from the dining room. When we were outside the room, I held a finger up to Amy to tell her to stay still and I opened the door slightly. Suddenly it flew open and Father stood there, the whites of his eyes glowing. I stifled a scream and expected to be hit but all he did was put a finger to his lips. He beckoned me in and Amy followed close behind.

“She’s there” He pointed to an empty space, “She won’t leave me alone” He spun round, “Make it stop” He turned round to the empty space, “No, I didn’t mean it! Don’t leave me. DANIELLE!” He yelled. My heart thudded loudly and fiercely in my chest so much that it hurt. What was wrong with him? Was it a drug overdose? Was it an alcohol overdose? He was standing and waving his arms around and yelling at an empty space. I looked behind me to see Amy run upstairs. Part of me wanted to run with Amy and hide until it was all over but another part wanted me wanted to stay and make sure he was okay.

“Danielle, please, please... please” He sobbed. He was on his hands and knees with his forehead pressed against the floor. With clenched fists he let out heart wrenching sobs.

“Father?” Tentatively, I step forward a little, “Father, are you okay?” He doesn’t move or make any inkling that he heard me, “Father sit up please, come and sit down” I pulled a chair out for him. I lean forward and gently pull up on his shoulders when he turns round, wide-eyed and manic.

“You don’t know what it’s like! I can see her! She is right there, in front of me, look!” He whisks me round but I see nothing, nothing at all. I panic and run.

Panting, I run up the stairs, clamber through the hatch and lock it tight. Amy is bundled up on the floor. Rocking. Back and forth. Just like she did when Mother died. I swallowed nervously and went over to her.

What happened to him? She signed.

“I don’t know” I answered truthfully. I really don’t know, I thought to myself.

Chapter 7

When I was 14

I just heard Amy walk through the front door. She slung her bag down and ran up the stairs. When she opened the hatch I helped her through and gave her a hug. Being eleven she finally doesn’t need me to take her to and from school. I usually bunk last lesson or make up some excuse. I never seemed to get caught, and even if I did it wouldn’t matter, it’s not like I would be grounded. I didn’t do my homework often, the only subject I really paid attention to was English. I loved writing and escaping into a whole new world. The teachers have given me countless after school detentions for not doing homework but only half I ever go to because of Amy. I couldn’t leave her at an after school club almost every day. Amy’s hair was tied up into a messy pony tail from PE, but now she took out the snag band and it toppled around her face. I bought her the jeans she is wearing for her birthday out of the money I earn doing a paper round every morning. It’s not much but it’s enough for us two. We don’t care about Father anymore. As usual he’s drunk out of his mind and probably stoned too. I don’t know where he gets all the money to pay for his drugs and drinks but I don’t think he gets it fairly. Father still hits me but he hasn’t laid a finger on Amy since the last time. I wouldn’t let him. He wouldn’t dare. I have a purple-black bruise on my shin where he kicked me and a hand shaped bruise on my arm from where he pulled me up against the wall and held a knife to my throat. Now I have a slit mark on my neck where he dug it in. I managed to get free eventually. He has tried to take advantage of me again. But worse than before. He tried more than just a kiss but I kicked him where I knew it would hurt and broke his nose. I shuddered at the memory. It made me feel sick every time that I thought about it. I still hadn’t told anyone. I had no friends to tell. Well, no friends that would understand or are that nice. It was only recently that people started being kind of nice to me. I think people guess that my life at home isn’t ‘normal’ but no one ever brings it up. I mean, how do you bring up that kind of conversation? It’s not like you can go up to someone and say, excuse me is your Father an alcoholic and is your Mother dead? It just wasn’t something you would ask. To be honest, I preferred it that way. Amy was pottering around tidying the room up. Picking clothes up off the floor and making the beds that in our rush to get out of the house in time, we had forgotten to do. Amy doesn’t have many friends either. We have each other. We are sisters, best friends and a huge part of each other’s lives. I was like a parent to her all her life. I took over the role of Mother and Father.

“Are you hungry, Amy?” She nodded, she still said nothing.

She leant down to open the hatch. I pulled it back for her and she stepped down, smiling at me. Her smile lingered in my mind for a moment then suddenly she was falling. I heard a loud crash as she fell. I screamed and ran down. She was motionless. She was laying on her front so I couldn’t see if she was breathing. Her hair scattered around her head, covering her face and I wished she hadn’t taken down her hair. Crying, I picked up the phone and dialled 999. After three rings a woman picked up.

“Hello, emergency services, what service do you require?”

“Ambulance” My voice came out breathless and cracked with tears..

“Who is it that is injured?”

“My sister, Amy, she is eleven”

“Thank you and where has the accident taken place?”

“Twenty-eight Pleasant Road, South-end-on-sea”

“Okay, and what are the injuries?” I looked over to her and she still lay motionless.

“She fell down the stairs, I don’t know, I can’t see her face...” I trailed off fearing the worst.

“That will be all. Would you like me to stay on the line?”  I shook my head then realised she couldn’t see me so I mumbled no thank you.

The line went dead.

What would happen to Amy? She was going to die. I’d sworn I’d protect her and if anything happened to 

her, I would have no one. No one at all. I paced the hallway, stepping over rubbish and cans. I raked my hands through my hair and tears flew down my face. About ten minutes blue lights and a whirr of sirens filled the air.

I heard a knock at the door. I darted to answer it and stepped aside to let the paramedics in. Instantly they saw Amy lying on the floor and hurried to her. Another came to me and spoke to me but his voice was distant and I couldn’t focus. Out of the corner of his eye I saw him take in the broken table, the glass that littered the floor, a can of fosters a bottle of wine. Then the smell seemed to hit him. Smoke, alcohol and sick. I dared to look at his face and he said, “Do you mind if I take a look around?”

Horror flicked across my face. Should I let him? Where was Father? Would he be passed out on the sofa? Or even awake and smoking another joint? I didn’t know, I hadn’t checked on him. I paused to think about the bigger picture. I hated Father, would it not be better to get this finished once and for all? I nodded once and looked away briefly then followed him to the living room. He cracked open the door and retched at the smell and sight. A sick splattered man and room, a strange smell of gas, a man sitting hunched over, a cigarette dangling between his lips. Stains and mess everywhere. The paramedic took out his radio and strode into the kitchen. I heard him mumbling something and the crackle of a reply. A stretcher had been summoned and Amy was being strapped in and carried to the middle of the hallway which was slightly clearer. Blue lights flashed through the frosted glass front door window and a sharp knock made me stumble over to open the door. Three policemen stood there. “May we come in please, Miss?” I just stepped aside. 

Immediately, they went over and joined the paramedic who was standing at the door. I couldn’t make out what they were saying; it was all spoken in undertone and whispers. Closing my eyes, I sank to the floor, not wanting to see what happened next. Suddenly, I heard a shout from Father and a smash of a glass bottle being thrown against a wall, narrowly missing a policeman who just ducked in time.

“Get your hands off me” Yelled Father. I heard a punch being thrown and a crack against the wall when the desired target was missed. A swift clicking noise reassured me that he was hand cuffed, but the fight wasn’t stopping there.

“Let go of me you filth!” A kick was aimed and fired, hitting the correct spot in the shin of one of the men. The pushed him to the floor and pinned him there for a minute until he stopped thrashing. They groaned as they hauled him to his feet and out the door. I looked up to see him staring at me.

“Your gonna pay for this Chantelle!” He yelled this at me and I shrank back.

“You’re a bitch, Chantelle! You’re a failure, spitting image of the mess of your Mother was and a waste of space!” I stopped for a moment and looked up, taking in all the lines and cracks on his aged face. I let a smile creep across my face then I whispered just five words,

“You’re drunk, I hate you” Then I saw the same guilt appear in his eyes from years ago and momentarily he seemed to collapse inwardly but I held my gaze and he was taken away. Once gone I collapsed too. I cried. I couldn’t stop. Those were the last words I would ever say to my Father and all I felt was relief.

Chapter 8

When I was in a foster home

The police took me away too after I packed my belongings which fitted easily into two black bin sacks. I also took the box of books and asked them not to open it. Amy had been taken off to hospital and I would be taken there once had finished. I drifted around as if sleep walking as I gathered the last things. All my savings in my piggy bank, my clothes, Amy’s clothes, our toiletries and our childhood teddy bears. I looked out of the big slanted window and breathed deeply. The sun was setting and the sky was a beautiful cherry red, golden yellow, fuchsia pink and pale blue. The salty sea smell flickered in my nostrils as I inhaled. One thing I always hated was the freedom of the sea. I was bound up in my own world of torture, abuse and the feeling of being unloved. I never got that freedom. I felt tears tugging behind my eyes but I shook my head and tipped it back to stop them running free. My strappy tank top showed off my tanned arms and my torn at the knee jeans clung to me because they were a size too small. I knew I looked a mess with a black eye and split lip, but now I didn’t care. I was leaving this place I once called home. One of the policemen calling my name broke me away from my thoughts. I replied with “I’m coming” A small spring entered my step as I gathered the things and carefully went down the stairs. The man took my things and hauled them into the car. I climbed in the passenger seat and took one last fleeting glance at the bungalow. I didn’t have long to take in the finger details before I was driven away.

As we approached the hospital I twisted my hands in my lap. The hospital loomed over me as we parked and walked in the huge sliding doors of A&E. The policeman asked for the details of Amy’s room. I saw Amy lying on the bed in a white room connected to a monitor and very pale. Her leg from her knee to ankle was in a cast and a huge cut was on her forehead. It had had at least nine stitches. She turned her head as she heard the door creak open. Immediately, I ran over.

“I’m so sorry, Amy, I am so, so sorry” My voice shook as I spoke to her. I gave her the wipe board that she never failed to carry with her. Every bag had to be big enough for it. She wrote, don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault, I fell. I nodded and said,

“The police came... they have taken Father away” I paused, unsure what she would say, then she wrote, did he die like Mummy? Anger pulsed through my veins momentarily, I wished he had but I shook my head. Is he gone forever? Will he be able to hurt us again? Those two questions, even though they weren’t said aloud, they swam in my head. Forever. Gone forever. Hurt is again. Hurt. She knew everything. More than I thought she knew. It hurt that she knew. I smiled and said,

“Yes, he is gone forever and only his memory will ever be able to hurt us” seeing her confused expression I added, “you will understand what I mean soon, but for now, sleep”

She nodded once, lay back and closed her eyes. As if on cue a nurse tottered in and asked me,

“Is she asleep?” I nodded, “I’m guessing you are the sister we were expecting... what was it? Umm... Chantelle?” I  nodded again, “Ok well, I will have another bed brought though” To me she was talking nonsense so I just nodded. Her expression softened, “Is there anyone I can call for you?” Anyone. No one. No one at all to call. No one who loved us.

“Do you understand, Chantelle? It is for the best” A social worker tried to ask me as I stared at the wall. We were being put into children’s home. Amy and I could be split up, the chances were likely. I would have to explain all this to Amy.

“Chantelle? Umm... are you okay?” I knew if Mother was alive she would stop this. If Amy hadn’t fallen down the stairs the police wouldn’t have come and seen Father. I felt the blood drain out of my face. My whole body even. My head swam and I swayed in my seat. The social worker waved her hand in front of my face but I didn’t see it properly. The next thing I knew I had passed out.

The slurred voices of nurses bustling over my bed woke me. I felt hot but cold and sweaty at the same time. I struggled to sit up and I felt bile rise in my throat. I leant over the side of the bed and was sick. A nurse ran to my aid and passed me a brown paper bowl. I felt giddy after and couldn’t stop throwing up. I realised I was sitting next to Amy and she sat there watching me wide eyed. Now she thinks I’m going to die, I thought. A nurse bustled over to her and turned her head away. She spoke to her and calmed her down, explaining why I was vomiting so badly. Eventually, it stopped. Shakily, I got to my feet and to the bathroom to wash my mouth out and splash my face with water whilst the nurses changed my sheets. When I came back I went over to Amy and forced a smile,

“I’m okay honey” I managed to get out.

Please don’t die; you said you wouldn’t get ill. Mummy was sick a lot, why were you sick? She wrote in sturdy, even letters.

“Sweet heart, I’m not ill like Mummy was. Mummy was sick for a different reason, I was sick because I passed out”

She scrubbed the board clean with a pale hand. Mummy passed out a lot.

I wanted to slap my forehead. I needed to chose my words more carefully.

“I know, but I was upset about something. Honestly, I won’t ever leave you” Liar, I thought.

What upset you? She wrote.

“I will tell you after I have slept. I need to sleep. I’m tired” She considered this for a moment then nodded and waved me away.

I couldn’t sleep, I only dozed. Nurses fussed over my cuts and bruises. I want to sleep but I knew there was no hope. I raised my head and looked over at me with a watchful gaze. I should probably tell her.

“Amy, are you feeling better?” She nodded, “That’s good, so am I” I lied, “Honey, I have to tell you something that you won’t like, we are being put into a children’s home...” Her brow creased in confusion, “It means we have to stay with other children in a home and not live at home anymore” hurriedly,  she sat up and scribbled on her board, Will we get to stay together forever and ever?” I just said,

“I hope so” It was unlikely but to explain that to an eleven year old who lost her Mother lost her Father and was possibly going to lose me, was just not possible. I saw her little body tense up and she turned away, deep in though. My stomach dropped, how could I burden her with the possibility of us being separated? I felt like a failure. No, I was a failure. The one person I’d sworn to protect was possibly loosing me. She couldn’t! She can’t even talk and I was the only relative that cared for her.

We spent another couple of days in hospital on drips, trying to slowly give our bodies the nutrients that it had been deprived of over the years. The nurses were frightened at how thin we were; our bones could be seen through our skin. We were naturally skinny but the lack of food didn’t help. I looked over at Amy and she was as pale as the white on the sheets. I could tell she was hurting but, like me, she wouldn’t tell anyone. We always were the type to fall over and get back up again and pretend it never happened. We ignored the pain we felt but it lived inside us. She caught my gaze and struggled up to write on her board. Are you feeling better?

“A lot. More importantly, are you okay?”

My forehead hurts. The stitches are uncomfortable and itchy.

“Mind you don’t scratch them” I paused for a moment and looked at the huge cut on her head. I could count each stitch, the black standing out against the white of her skin. I smiled, “At least your on the mend”

Yeah. What will happen when we get discharged from the hospital? Will we get put in a children’s home? Her question took me off guard and I realised I hadn’t really thought about what would happen after we were recovered enough to leave. Amy would be on crutches for another five weeks and I would have to help her even more.

“I don’t really know” I said honestly, “But it will be alright”

We didn’t say anything else about being put into foster care. It didn’t need to be said; the fear loomed in our eyes.

Amy stood trembling by my side whilst we stood in the hallway of our new temporary home. We waited for a woman, Mrs Regal, to see to us, show us around, to our room and take us through the rules. When she arrived she was a friendly figure, kind hearted and was very pleasant at a first impression and stated that she wanted us to go to the best homes possible. Individually, she asked us about our experiences and as I recollected my memories I cried. I sobbed. Mrs Regal was very comforting about it all and I guessed she had heard of many children’s stories. She told me that her childhood was similar to mine; she lived with alcoholic parents and knew what it was like. I could relate to her.  That is why she was helping children that had grown up with rough pasts. She told me after I told her of Amy’s muteness it was rare but sometimes traumatised children living in a newer, safer environment could sometimes find their voice. I frowned at this. I was sure Amy’s muteness was not down to choice but inside I dearly hoped. It took us a matter of minutes to sort out our belongings into our joint room. We met a few other kids there and they were alright. Some I could see were not the type that wanted to be there. Some were as young as a year old. My heart broke thinking that their parents practically neglected them at birth. That evening, one of the elder children there ran away. I was surprised at how calmly the carers took this. Apparently it was a regular occurrence.

As I lay in bed that night, my body sagged as I thought of Father and the last words he said to me and the last words I said to him. It replayed over and over in my mind. I was sure Mother would be turning in her grave. The thought made me squirm and gave me no comfort. Amy tossed and turned in her sleep. She was restless and couldn’t get comfortable with the cast on her leg and a constant dull ache in her head. I, however, just couldn’t sleep. I felt so low, like I had no more tears left to cry. I had fourteen years of bottling up all my emotions with no way to vent it out. Crying just didn’t work. I had no idea how to release the pent up anger I felt towards everything. Not wanting to wake Amy with my loud, aggressive breathing, I got up and slipped my feet into trainers and zipped up a jacket. I had to get outside. The temperature in the room suddenly rose.

I stepped outside and the coldness of the air took my breath away.

“Oi, Chantelle” Someone whispered to me. I looked to the source of the sound and saw a girl, only a year older than me, with a cigarette hanging between her lips, “Rough day?” I nodded. She tossed me a packet of cigarettes and the lighter.

“I don’t smoke” I said.

“Try one, it really helps. Kinda helps you unwind I guess” I opened the packet and considered for a moment. I’d often seen Father smoke but I knew it was bad. Inwardly I shrugged; I guess it wouldn’t be hard to try one. I smiled as I flipped open the packet and put one between my lips. I’d seen Father light one up often so it was pretty easy. Flicking the lighter round was harder and I burnt my finger but when it eventually lit I sucked in a gulp of smoke. It made me choke and gag. The girl laughed, “If you’re not used to it, just drag it into your cheeks, and don’t inhale so much” I nodded and tried this but it didn’t help. It made me feel giddy and a bit sick. I tossed it to the ground and stamped on it.

“I guess it’s just not for me” I said casually. She nodded and threw her stump to the ground and went back inside. The smell of smoke lingered in the air a while after she had gone and I could taste the thickness of it in my lungs and throat still. I tried inhaling fresher air but my lungs still felt restricted, like something was blocking them, trying to get out. The next gulp of air I took dislodged the infuriating lump in my throat. It came out it huge sobs. It was grief. It had blocked my heart and lungs, silencing my will to live and slowly trying to take over my brain. I fell to my knees and put my head in my hands. Muffled howls came out as I wept. I wept for my Mother that never cared for me, I wept for the loss of the Father that hated me, and I wept for Amy, who would be separated from the only person she had left. My heart was shattered and there was no one to pick it up and soothe it back together. No Mother to pull me into a hug if I had an argument with friends. Well, not that I had any friends to argue with, or a boy to get dumped by. Or a Mother that would help me when I’m ill, or read me bed time stories. Or even, just be there as a mental shoulder. I never had a Father that would pick me up and spin me round. Mine only picked me up to throw me against a wall until I listened to him and would only spin me round so he could whip me with a walking cane on my lower back. He wasn’t the Father that would almost tirelessly chase me around the house playing tag or tickle me to death. Death... I thought of Mother again. The last time that I saw her:

“Chantelle! Do the dishes now” She ordered at me from the kitchen door.

“Mum, I have to take Amy to school then I have to go too” I was seven and had more responsibility than she did.

“You never do anything to help us anymore, Chantelle! You’re ungrateful!” This boiled my blood and I spat back.

“I do everything for you, don’t you notice your buckets of sick that get left around mysteriously get cleaned and replaced? Don’t you realise I take Amy to school every day? I am seven!” I paused for a moment but my rant hadn’t finished there, “All the other kids Mummy’s care for them and tell their daughters and sons that they love them. We aren’t naughty but Daddy hits me and you don’t stop him. Why don’t you stop him?” I paused again to inhale, “You don’t love us”

Shock appeared on her face, “Of course I love you girls, and you’re my daughters!”

I scoffed at this remark and snarled, “No you don’t. If you loved us you would be there for us, but you’re not! You are always drinking and smoking. You don’t love us and I don’t know if I love you” Without another word, I turned around and ushered Amy out of the door.

Little did I know that would be the last encounter with my Mother.

Did I drive Mother into drinking herself to the point of alcohol poisoning? I said that I wasn’t sure if I loved her. It was my fault she was dead. People say you should never cry over dirty dishes... Any normal Mother would have done the dishes herself. Maybe Father was right. He always blamed me for Mothers death, maybe it was my fault. Fresh tears replaced the dry patches on my cheeks with salty wet patches. I had a sudden feeling that I was falling. Never ending falling. Like the ground had swallowed me up and opened up revealing the hot core, only it was cold, like ice, like Hell. Suddenly, I was sick again. Again and again. I hadn’t eaten much food so after I had thrown up my dinner I had nothing left to throw up. I collapsed outside breathing awkwardly on my side. Rasping for breath. My body was engulfed with a weight that seemed to crush me. I passed out.

Part 2
“Pinkie promise?”

Chapter 9
When I had to say goodbye...

“Chantelle?” I heard my name being repeated over and over. I was lying uncomfortably on a stone, cold floor. I had a terrible taste in my mouth, “Chantelle? Chantelle, are you okay?” I realised Mrs Regal was speaking to me. I opened my eyes and sat up. The nurse was ready and caught me before I fell backwards and wrapped a blanket around me. Only then did I notice I felt freezing.

“Chantelle, what happened? Why are you outside?” Mrs Regal asked me, her blue eyes full of concern.

“I couldn’t sleep, so I came out here and I felt sick then I just...” I indicated to the floor, stalling time until I found the right word, “Passed out” I concluded. Mrs Regal smiled at me.

“Nurse, will you take her inside for me, get her bathed and into her nightdress so she can sleep” The nurse nodded and helped me to my feet. I felt like a princess with the way they fussed over me. For once in my life I didn’t have to take care of myself twenty-four-seven, I could let other people do it for me. The nurse bathed me, washed my hair and my body in bubbly water until I felt sleepy. She towel-dried me quickly and I remembered doing all this for Amy...

I sighed and put her in the shallow bath tub and gently started lathering shampoo into her long, silky, blonde hair, the way mum used to do it for me. I filled the jug with water and sloshed it over her hair to wash out the bubbles. I took me several goes to get it out but eventually I did and she sat there giggling silently like the mad hatter, spraying bubbles everywhere. Great, another job for me to do! When I lifted her out the bath she crossed her arms in protest but I ignored her and started rubbing her down with an old, small towel. 

When she was dry, I started wriggling her into her old, tatty pyjamas and tucked her up.

The nurse then slid a nightdress over my head and propped up my pillows until I was comfortable. I laid back and closed my eyes. I had a feeling this five-star treatment wouldn’t last for long...

“I’ll miss you, Amy” It was a month later and already Amy was being taken to a family. I was crying and so was she. She spelt out in sign language, I will miss you too. I hugged her again, well aware everyone was watching me. I knelt down in front of her. I pointed to myself, then crossed my arms, then pointed at her. I love you. She signed it back to me but a held up two fingers at the end. I love you too. She also signed, I will write to you. I nodded and whispered, “I will write back”. My eleven year old sister looked at me then asked, promise? I nodded and held out my right pinkie finger. She shook it with her right pinkie finger too and we smiled. Mrs Regal lead her out the door and into her car in which she was taking Amy in to meet her new family. I got to my feet and waved to her smiling. My baby sister had left. And I was leaving soon too. After my birthday, when I turned sixteen, I would be leaving to go with a different family. My birthday was in two weeks. I had no idea it was that soon. I deeply wished that Amy could have been with me but it was not possible because there wasn’t enough room to accommodate us all and two more boys were coming soon. I had settled in better now and was getting to know the rules of the house. They were simple really and I stuck to all of them.

My slipper covered feet padded inside to join the rest of the kids lounging in front of the telly and eating 

crisps. It was Saturday and few of them had gone out to the park whilst a few were in their rooms doing homework. I, however, grabbed a packet of crisps and sat down with them. They were watching a movie; ‘Back to the Future’ was what it was called. I had never seen it before but it had just started so I lay down on the sofa, swung my legs over Jake’s lap and watched it. Jake was my best friend, we instantly related to each other and in the month that we had known each other we became close. He was my shoulder to cry on when I felt sad and I was his in return.

“Get off me, Chantelle!” He moaned, shoving off my legs. I looked up at him and gave him what he called my ‘famous puppy-dog stare’. He moaned again, picked my legs up and put them back on his lap; “I hate it when you do that” He smiled so I winked back and said, “You just can’t resist it” Jake was sixteen a week ago. He had said to me when I get moved to a family he would give me his number so when I got a phone we could stay in touch. I didn’t have enough money to get a phone yet but I said I would call him whenever I could.

The sun was beginning to set when the movie finished and at least twelve packets of crisps devoured between the four of us watching the movie.

Ben appeared round the door, “Oi, guys, dinner” We all groaned, stuffed with crisps. When we got the table to our delight spaghetti bolognaise was sitting in front of us. The cook, Ivy, made the most amazing meals on a Saturday and Sunday. Always our favourites. I had wondered if every care home was like this but Mrs Regal told me otherwise,

“No dear, not always, I just believe that if the children have the right up-bringing they will be deterred away from things that other care homes try to prevent. Instead of being told what to do, they are given the attention they were neglected of and they will eventually learn to pay respect back”

As usual, Jake and I bagged two seats next to each other or opposite each other and tucked in. Betty, who I later found out was the girl who gave me the cigarette, would usually bag a seat on my other side and Emily would take the seat the other side of Jake. We did everything together. Emily and Betty had been in care for about two years and in that time had had about two or three different families. Jake was only in care for the past four months. I was the newbie. Across the table sat Molly and Morgan, two five year old twin sisters, Adam, a year old baby who was sitting in his highchair being fed his dinner by one of the assistants and Lucas, a twelve year old boy who had become good friends with Amy and looked sadly at his meal, wishing she was still there to sign to over dinner. There was only eight of us, but it was a small home, with space for the two more boys arriving just after I leave. Suddenly, I became aware that Jake was kicking me,

“Chantelle! Pass some garlic bread” I gave him one and said,

“You’re welcome, Jake” He laughed and said, “Why thank you, darling, darling, baby Chantelle” This was another one of our jokes. He taught me maths, I taught him manners.

The living room was full of chatter about everyone’s day. Molly and Morgan were giggling at the telly which played a cartoon I had never heard of before. Lucas was listening to music with Emily whilst chatting to Betty about a new boy that started their school. Lucas snorted uninterested by their new conversation topic and started playing a game on his iPod. I talked to Jake. He was telling me an easier way to divide fractions and what indices where. I was very behind at school so at home he helped me every other day to try and improve. He hoped I would pass my final GCSE’s with at least a C grade. I knew the stuff; I just needed help memorising it.

At about nine o’clock Molly and Morgan were sent to bed and Lucas left shortly after. Emily and Betty still gossiped about boys and the makeup they were going to buy. I didn’t wear makeup. I never had. They said that I didn’t need it so I just decided not to use it. For my sixteenth birthday they said they were going to get me some makeup for special occasions but I doubted I would wear much even then.

Soon Emily and Betty went off to use the phone to talk to their parents in turn, leaving Jake and I to mindlessly flick through the television channels. Eventually, we settled on watching ‘Mock the Week’.

“I’ll miss you when you leave” Jake said to me. I was startled at the randomness of this comment.

“I’ll miss you too” I said eventually, “You’re the only friend I’ve ever had”

“Same” He nodded, “We have to stay in touch, right?” I nodded,

“Of course” He smiled.

“That’s good. What do you want for your birthday?” He asked me.

“Nothing from you” I laughed, “You don’t have to get me anything” He looked at me as if I had gone mad,

“Of course I do, you’re my best friend! Go on, what do you want?” I shrugged. I had no idea; this was the first birthday of mine that had ever been celebrated. It was the first time I would be getting presents.

“Really, I have no idea” He sighed,

“Fine, so now I’m going to have to go on a whim” He put his hand to his heart in a mock-hurt tone. I pushed him gently and got up,

“Well, I’m going to bed now, night Jake” He nodded and said goodnight as I turned in.

It felt strange getting into bed without Amy’s familiar face peeking out from under the covers. It made my good spirits drop. But then, I remembered that I would get to see her sometimes, we just had to stay in touch. As soon as I could, I would get a phone to talk to Jake after I had gone. I was going to miss him for sure, even if I had only known him for a month. As soon as she wrote me a letter I would reply until we found an easier way of communicating, ideally being a phone. I slipped between the cool sheets and lay back, resting my head on the cold pillow and closed my eyes. Mrs Regal had replaced the batteries in the ticking clock and it filled the room with a slow tick, tock. It irritated me so I got up, roughly pulled out the batteries and threw it down onto my bedside table with a clatter. I paused to see if it had stirred anyone but there was silence. There was a crack in the curtains and a small gap of light flitted through. Slowly and careful not to knock anything over I wandered over to the window and looked down into the back garden. I could see Betty with a lit cigarette between her lips and smoke drifting up. I smiled to myself and looked up to the horizon. It was a clear night and the stars shone brightly. They twinkled and I wondered what it would be like to be a star and look down on everyone on the Earth. Or if I lived up amongst the clouds and drifted all over the world. Maybe life would be simpler then. 

Sighing, I tiptoed across the creaking floor and lay back in bed. My brain was swarming and I tried to shut it out. Eventually it wasn’t just the clouds that drifted that night as if in a sweet slumber.

Chapter10
My 16^th birthday

“Morning sleepy, happy birthday” Jake sat on the end of my bed. I opened my eyes and startled when I saw him sitting there grinning with a small package in his hands. I snatched the duvet up around me, very conscious that I only slept in a strappy top and leopard print P.J trousers. My eyes snapped to the clock, it was eight thirty. I groaned and looked at him,

“You could have at least given me a bit of warning” He laughed,

“Well that wouldn’t have been any fun” I caught my face in the mirror and gasped at my bed head reflection.

“You didn’t even give me chance to brush my hair!” I exclaimed. He rolled his eyes,

“Typical” Catching my glare he added, “You look beautiful though” I fake smiled at him.

“Well, aside from that, I wanted to be the first to give you your present, so happy birthday” He handed over a smallish package wrapped in pink shiny paper with a card joined to it. I tore open the card and smiled at his slightly messy and looped handwriting that said ‘Dear Chantelle, Happy 16^th Birthday, You have been an amazing friend to me, thank you, love you always, Jake” He signed it with his usual three kisses and a cartoon drawing. He was a very good at art and every drawing he did brought a smile to my face. I placed the card on my bedside table and carefully unwrapped the present. A black box appeared in my hands under the layers of paper. Curious, I opened it. A thin, fitted silver band was looped around a velvet cushion. It had three diamonds in the top with a line of gold snaked around the whole band swooping up and down. Next to it was a silver necklace with a diamond pendant, also laced with gold. I gasped, it was beautiful. I looked up at Jake who was going redder and redder by the second. He met my gaze,

“Do you like it?” He asked sheepishly.

“Like it? Jake, I love it! It really is beautiful...” I trailed off, I couldn’t say any more. I didn’t know what to say. I realised it must have cost him a fortune. I unfastened the clasp of the bracelet and was about put it on when I caught a glimpse of some writing underneath. It said, ‘For my darling Chantelle, I will never forget you, Jake’. Suddenly I realised tears were in my eyes and I looked back at Jake.

“Jake, thank you... thank you so, so much. I really don’t know what to say...”

“Then don’t say anything” He smiled again, “You are very welcome birthday girl. Now, I will leave you to get dressed”

He got up and left the room quietly shutting the door behind him. I still sat awe-struck at the bracelet and necklace on the bed. It was such an amazing gift. Eventually, I got up and opened my wardrobe and looked at the white laced dress hanging there. I pulled it out and laid it on the bed. Slipping on my dressing gown I snuck into the bathroom and jumped into the shower and washed my long hair. I ran my fingers through my hair with shampoo and then with conditioner. After I shaved my legs and washed my body with a raspberry soap. For about ten minutes I let the hot water run over my body and the steam swirled around. I was sixteen. Sixteen. I turned off the water and squeezed out my hair and towel dried myself. The mirror had steamed up so I wiped it clean and stared at my reflection before grabbing my tooth brush and paste. I vigorously and thoroughly brushed my teeth and dashed to my room once I had finished. I pulled on a pair of white underwear and bra under my dressing gown and pulled out the hairdryer from my draw. Pulling the brush through my hair, I fanned the hairdryer over it until it was dry. Then I heated up the curling tongs that Emily let me borrow for the day. She showed me how to use them and after an hour of arm ache and heat my hair sat in lovely ringlets on my head. I applied a little moisturiser to my face and some to the rest of my body, letting it dry before I put the dress over my head. It came in slightly at my waist and then toppled over my hips to just above my knees. It was a very flattering dress and when I turned to the mirror I smiled. Then I smiled more because I realised I hadn’t stopped smiling all day. I sprayed a little perfume and took one last fleeting glance at myself in the mirror. Then I opened my door.

“Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday dear Chantelle... Happy Birthday to you!” A chorus of voices sang as I entered the front room. Emily and Betty squealed and ran up to me for a hug and gushed over who would give me my present first. Lucas handed me a parcel and Molly and Morgan handed me a handmade card. Mrs Regal held Adam in her arms and in the other she handed me a card and present. Honestly in my life I had never been given a present, so seeing everyone giving me gifts was a shock and I didn’t know how to react. I sat down with them and began to open the card from Molly and Morgan when I realised that Jake wasn’t there.

“Where’s Jake?” I asked Mrs Regal. She turned her head puzzled to see he wasn’t there.

“I’m sure he will be along in a moment” With her beaming at me, I continued to open the card. Inside written in smudged crayon said, ‘Dear Chantelle, Happy Birthday, We will miss you, Love Molly and Morgan’ I studied the writing, taking in every letter. I couldn’t place why but I loved the way that the last ‘e’ in my name floated out of line with the others and it was clear that they had each signed their own name because one had started using a blue crayon then had obviously told off the other because the rest was carried on in green, the same as the rest of the writing.

“Thank you” I said to them. The giggled I heard them murmur what sounded like ‘I told you she would like it’. Next I opened the card from Lucas. It had a silhouette of a woman with long wavy hair covered in black glitter and velvet. When I opened it, it said ‘Dear Chantelle’ Happy Birthday was printed on it by the maker of the card and then it was signed, ‘From Lucas’. Slowly, I opened the present, wanting to savour every moment. It was another box and when I opened it there was a white watch with a plastic strap and a large face with fancy numbers written on it. I tried it on for size on the opposite hand to my bracelet. It fitted perfectly.

“Thank you so much Lucas, it’s lovely” He gradually turned a shade redder.

“Mrs Regal helped me get it” He mumbled.

“It doesn’t matter” I said, “I love it, thank you” He went even redder so I moved on to Emily’s present 

under protest of Betty. It was a pink and white polka-dot makeup bag kitted up with foundation, powder, blusher, brushes, lip gloss, mascara, eyeliners of different shades, different shades of eye shadow and some sponges. In a pocket there were some bright shades of nail varnishes, manicure sets and creams. I doubted I would use it much but Emily said I had to wear some today. I told her she would have to do it because I didn’t know how. At first she thought I was joking but then caught a look at my deadly serious face and agreed to do it for me.

“Don’t say anything, I can read your mind... you love it” Emily said to me, pretending to read my mind and waving her hands in the air, almost hitting Mrs Regal in the face, “Woops, sorry!” She exclaimed. Betty handed me her present and for a moment I was confused, I had been under the impression that they were both getting me the make up together. The pale blue paper came off too easily and I soon had a bath and shower set in front of me with body yoghurt (I had no idea there was such a thing) and other various scrubs and soaps. I held out my arms to them and they both lent down to give me a double hug.

“Thank you!” I whispered to them.

“That’s okay” They whispered back.

Finally, Mrs Regal handed me her card and book shaped package. I opened the card and on the front it was a picture of herself, Emily, Betty holding Adam, Molly, Morgan and Lucas. But one thing caught my eyes the most and made me smile with tears in my eyes was Amy. Crouched down at the very front of the picture on one knee, resting her arm lazily on her knee and the other steadying herself on the ground. They must have taken this picture before they left. That morning I realised with guilt that I hadn’t thought of Amy but I put my mind to rest knowing she was probably thinking of me now. The card was signed from Mrs Regal, the other helpers and everyone had written their names. I propped the card up on the coffee table and opened the present. It was a scrapbook diary. I opened the front to see on the front page it had already been written in. It was the number of the house, the address and the numbers of Emily, Betty and Lucas who had mobile phones. Jake’s wasn’t there. I was really puzzled but I didn’t show it and turned the page. There was a miniature photo album of my short stay at the home with everyone in it and a little message to go with it. The next pages were blank.

“It’s so you can write in it and put pictures of your foster family and what you do” Mrs Regal explained.

“Thank you, everyone. It’s really lovely, I wasn’t expecting anything...”

“Come on mate, you’re sixteen! Of course we gotta get you something!” Betty exclaimed.

“Well, thank you, it’s really amazing” Emily rolled her eyes,

“Come on Chantelle! It’s just a few presents, it’s like you’ve never had a birthday before...” She stopped 

dead in her sentence and her hand flew to her mouth, “Oh my God, I am so sorry...” I looked up,

“It’s okay, I haven’t that’s true. I don’t mind it’s okay” I reassured her and she relaxed a little. It was true though, I never had had a birthday, but I didn’t mind because my first birthday was happy and with the people that cared for me. The people I called my family. The people I would always call my family.

 “Breakfast is served” Mrs Regal called to Betty, Emily and I who were up in my room trying to stop me from flinching as they did my makeup.

“Keep still!” An exasperated Emily said.

“Were coming hold on!” Betty yelled down the stairs.

“I would keep still if you stopped waving a pencil around my eyes” I mused. It was a bit off putting having Emily’s unsteady hands going so near to my eyes with a black kohl pencil.

“Shhh” She said, “Now look up and don’t move!” I obeyed and she drew slowly on the inside of my eyelid. Once finished she flicked some mascara through my lashes and turned me round to look in the mirror. I looked so different. My skin was smooth and not shiny. My eyes looked more defined and bigger and my eyelashes weren’t really pale. A shimmery coloured eye shadow had been put on my lids and made me look more awake and brighter.

“Thanks guys”

“You really have to stop saying face and get downstairs! I’m starving and by the sounds of it, we have a fry up. I don’t want that getting cold” Betty replied, dancing on one foot to the other before looking at me and taking a step back, “Wow, you look beautiful” It was my turn to blush. We all skipped downstairs sat ourselves at the table and began to feast on the sausage, egg, beans, bacon and muffins in front of us. Jake suddenly appeared round the corner in a white shirt and dark blue jeans.

“Sorry I’m late... woah...” He stopped when he looked at me. He sat down and said, “You look lovely, Chantelle” Betty and Emily snickered and Molly and Morgan giggled. I wasn’t sure why but I felt really happy that he was there.

 

“Where did you go earlier?” I sat outside on the swinging bench with Jake. We were watching the sun setting and basking in the last few rays of light whilst everyone else sat inside curled up watching another movie.

“Hang on” He got up and zipped off. I sat there wondering where on Earth he had gone when he reappeared holding a bunch of flowers, “I got you these”

“Jake, you shouldn’t have... you already got me a gorgeous bracelet and necklace”

“Which I see you are wearing” He replied.

“Of course I am! I didn’t expect it at all!”

“I wanted to give you something really special to remember me by”

“I wouldn’t forget you!”

“Yeah, it would take a lot to forget this handsome face” We both broke out into fits of laughter. When we finally regained ourselves we sat back and breathed deeply, looking at the colours of the sky.

“Beautiful...” I muttered.

“I know you are” He replied.

“I mean the sky” I sighed.

“I mean you” He responded and turned his head to look at me. I met his gaze. His eyes searched mine and he took my hand, “I’m really going to miss you. You’re the only person that I’ve ever really liked” His words echoed around my head. He really liked me? As a friend I presumed.

“Thanks, I really like you too” I did really like him. In fact, I think I loved him. I don’t think it was from the emotions of the day, I think I had felt it for a while, I just didn’t know it.

“Chantelle, I don’t think you understand...” He trailed off for a moment, “I think I love you”

My heart stopped in my chest for a moment and I smiled at him. He loved me too. Jake loved me. It felt odd hearing someone say that out loud to me because no one ever had. But I liked the way the words rolled off and floated in the air for a moment and buzzed in my ears. It felt like a thousand tiny shockwaves had penetrated my body.

“I think I love you too” I whispered. His eyes never left mine. For a second he looked relieved. Then he leaned in slowly and kissed me softly on the lips. Instantly my mind whirred back to when Father kissed me and I drew back sharply.

“I’m sorry, Chantelle” Jake stammered, “I forgot, I should have asked you first if you were comfortable...” He knew what happened. He remembered. I held my fingers up to his lips to hush him.

“It’s okay, it was my fault” I leaned forward again and received his second kiss. This time my stomach swooped and I wasn’t caught off guard. It felt like minutes could have passed but it was only seconds. We drew apart too quickly for my liking but when he did he put his arm round me and I moved closer to him, resting my head on his shoulder. For a moment we sat in silence. It was my first birthday, spent with the people who loved me and cared for me. I had never had a birthday, never felt loved and never felt cared for like I did today. This just made it perfect. I didn’t realise until today what Jake really meant to me and tears came to my eyes when I realised I wouldn’t get to see him as often when I got fostered. He realised I was crying and looked at me,

“What’s the matter? What have I done wrong?” Concern filled his voice.

“Nothing” I replied, “I’m just sad that I won’t get to see you as much after I get fostered. I seem to lose everyone I love” I choked up at the last words and he squeezed my shoulder.

“You won’t ever lose me” He promised, “I will stay in touch with you and we can meet up and talk on the phone... I will always be your best friend no matter where you are”

I nodded in agreement. I really hope so.

I wanted this moment to last forever.

Chapter 11

My foster family

"Hello, my name is Kate and this is Joe" I looked up at my foster parents. Laugher wrinkles were etched into their faces. I continued to study their beaming expression. They looked too friendly... No not too friendly just maybe a bit over powering. It would time some time to warm up to them. I could see happiness dancing in their eyes at the sight of the new 'daughter' they would take care of and love for as long as they could. First impressions: honest, open, happy... and fairly rich considering the ways they were elaborately but fashionably dressed. Much too young for their age though. Joe wore smart black jeans with converse and a large oversized zip up with a top underneath with a large slogan. He looked in his later twenties.  Kate looked a similar age and wore skinny jeans with knee high boots and a Hollister t-shirt with a big zip up over the top, lined with what I hoped was faux fur. On the driveway were parked two cars, sleek, black and polished well. An extremely fancy sports car undoubtedly kitted out with the latest technology. I forced a smile back,

“Hello, I'm Chantelle”.

"Well, Chantelle, pleased to finally meet you. Come in. Here, let me get your bags and umm.. box" Joe spoke to me kindly. Gentlemanly. The word flashed in my mind as he took the bags and box from me and carted them inside. I only had one suitcase, a small holdall, the diaries and a jacket which he all took in and up to my room.

When I stepped inside the house onto the tiled floor (no doubt it was heated too) I was met with a brightly decorated hallway with a long mirror which stretched floor to ceiling the whole way through the hall on one wall and the other had many strange looking pictures. At the far end was a spiralling staircase.

“Let me show you around, come this way” Kate beckoned me into what I presumed was the sitting room on the first right mirrored wall. I watched my reflection walk through. The living room was carpeted with a white fluffy material that my feet sank into. When I looked left to the back of the house I saw the whole back wall was a huge window. There was a lovely view of fields and distant hills with random trees dotted around. On the opposite side of the room there was three white leather couches two giant lip shaped pillows on each one. Fancy red curtains hung on the front window. A large television sat in front of the three sofas and a short coffee table in between each sofa. Looking at this house from the outside and you could have expected a more civilised or at least a more careful design, but I liked it. Kate led me through to the room to the window wall then turned left and I saw it was almost open plan but had a wall dividing the living room from the kitchen. This had a well structured design and was very light. It had a wooden laminate floor and creamy blue walls. The furnishings looked very expensive in each room. A little breakfast bar looked out the huge window. They seemed to have a huge, and very well kept, garden with rows of rose bushes and what looked like vegetable plots. I wondered if they had a gardener, and if they did how rich were they?

“Let me show you to your room” Kate beckoned me to follow her up the stairs and through a door, down 

another small corridor and through the end door to my new room. I gasped when I saw it. It was huge, possibly bigger than the attic room in our bungalow. In the middle there was a double bed with a white spread and pale pink cushions that matched the pale pink washed walls. The floor was laminated but two pink fluffy rugs lined either side of the bed. Huge windows on both sides let in tons of light and a fresh summer breeze. A desk with a chair and draws sat in the furthest corner and big double doors stood out next to it. Puzzled I looked at Kate,

“Where do the doors go?” Her eyes twinkled.

“Go and have a look” I walked over and pulled the doors apart. Inside on the right there were long hanging rails and short hanging rails. On the left there were shelves and boxes and a shoe cupboard. I walked in a little further and there were fairy lights and a few bean bags at behind the hanging space. Kate walked up behind me, “It’s for when you have your friends round”

“Wow, thank you so much, this is amazing, I don’t know what to say...” She grinned.

“I know it seems like a bit much but we want you to feel at home” I nodded. It truly was amazing with the amount of effort they had gone to so it was perfect.

“Are these all the clothes you have?” Kate looked at the suitcase I had just unzipped with a surprised expression.

“Eight tops, three pairs of jeans, a dress, two zip ups, a coat, under wear, three bras that are too small, a few pairs of socks and these trainers I’m wearing” I recollected. Her mouth hung open slightly. She obviously wasn’t the type that was used to having to make do with what you had.

“Well, we will have to get you some more clothes that will be more suited for school, we could go tomorrow, and it’s a Saturday after all. And that will give us chance to buy you a school bag.” I nodded then said,

“But I don’t have much money” She looked at me then nodded,

“I know but you’re our daughter now, we want to help you live a normal life again and we’ll start by getting you some clothes and a school bag and then you can earn pocket money and do things like that” I nodded. It sounded fair. I just wasn’t used to having things bought for me, “Come on let’s go downstairs and we’ll talk you through some of our rules and other things, yeah?” I nodded again and followed her down. We sat on the sofas, Joe and I on one and Kate on the one next to it. On the coffee table was a coke for me, two steaming mugs of tea and a list of rules on a piece of paper.

“Right, so basically we have only a few rules, one, we try to avoid any arguments possible so answering back, shouting, name calling, is not acceptable” Joe began. Fair, I thought, “Two, try and keep the house generally tidy. We are not too fussed about your room, that’s yours, but it should be kept relatively tidy, if anything gets broken or damaged because it’s messy we won’t replace it quickly” Again fair. I was usually tidy anyway so I doubted that would be an issue, “Three, no smoking, excessive drinking or drug taking, not in the house, not with friends, not anywhere. If you do so wish to have a drink, we would prefer you do it in the house with us, purely for your safety” I nodded in agreement. I was defiantly not going to try smoking again, drugs was way off the list and I doubted I would drink often, so that was perfectly reasonable, “And finally four, is general respect for us and our house”

“They sound reasonable” I said. I leant forward and took a sip of my coke.

“Joe, I said to Chantelle that we would take her out tomorrow to get her some clothes and a school bag... the necessary things to start school on Monday”

“Yeah sounds good” Absentmindedly he replied waving his hand to us, flicking through channels with the other.

At ten thirty I was exhausted.

“Do you mind if I go to bed now? I’m really tired”

“Of course you can, Chantelle, you don’t have to ask! We go to bed at eleven, so usually we would say to go to bed just before us” Kate replied, she was stretched out on the couch and yawning whilst Joe sat up with another mug of tea in his hands.

“Okay, night” I was about to turn when Kate said,

“I’ll be up in a second, okay?” I nodded, confused. Why would Kate tell me she would be up in a second? It took me a moment to remember which corridor to go down upstairs to get to my room but eventually I found it. The bathroom door was right outside my room so I didn’t have to stumble around in the dark to find the toilet. On my pillow was a set of fresh pyjamas. Smiling, I removed my tatty clothes and put these on. They were warm long trousers with leopard print on them and a plain brown strappy top. On the back of the door was a long white fluffy dressing gown which I slid on and underneath was a pair of slipper boots which I put my freezing feet into. They really were doing everything they could to make me feel at home. In the bathroom was a shower, Jacuzzi bath, toilet and a little basin. On the ledge about it was a toothbrush in a cup with toothpaste next to it and a flannel with a soap dish on the side. I brushed my teeth thoroughly and ran a bowl of hot water. My face burned slightly as I ran the soapy flannel over it. After rinsing off the bubbles I splashed my face with cool water. I looked into the mirror and say my face. It was still damp and droplets of water ran down my cheeks like tears. But I never cried. The last time I had cried was when we had to write the poem in class. I don’t even think I cried when Mother died. I couldn’t remember. I didn’t cry when Amy left. I didn’t cry on my sixteenth birthday when Amy wasn’t there. She didn’t send a card; she gave me one before she left. I told her not to get me a present so she didn’t. Now because of my uncaring parents, I was separated from Amy and living with complete strangers. I knew I had to trust them though. My social worker had told me everything about them. They had fostered quite a few children before and I had spoken to one of them, they told me more about them. They seemed to be really decent caring people. Gently, I towel dried my face and my fingers through my hair. I couldn’t be bothered to brush it. My feet padded across my bedroom and I slung my case from the bed onto the floor and peeled off my dressing gown that landed in a heap on the floor then kicked off my slippers. Collapsing onto the bed, I swung my legs up and tucked them under the sheets. A few moments later I heard a soft knocking on the door,

“Come in” I called.

“Hey, did you find everything we laid out for you? Did it all fit?”

“Yes thank you. And thank you for the stuff in the bathroom, I didn’t have any toiletries”

“Yes, I noticed when you opened your case so I asked Joe to pick you up some things. Including the pyjamas and dressing gown, he is a designer, so he is very good at judging size and design”

“Yeah he is. He is cool”

“I guess he is. I’m not into the whole clothes designing, I’m an interior designer, explains all the designing of this house. We built this house a few years ago and I decked it out with accessories and stuff”

“Well, you have an amazing taste, it’s beautiful. And it’s a beautiful place to build it”

Kate nodded, “I thought that, but anyway, goodnight, Chantelle, hope you sleep well. Do you want a hug? I have to ask, its part of the rules, if you aren’t comfortable then that’s okay”

“I’d like a hug” I sat up and held out my arms to her and she returned the hug. It felt strange. I had never really hugged anyone before but Kate seemed different, she was the only adult I had ever been able to trust and I wasn’t going to pass up that opportunity. She turned to leave and was about to turn off the light when I remembered something, “Umm... Kate?”

“Yes?”

“Do you mind if I call my friend Jake tomorrow? It’s just he wanted to know how I’ve settled in and stuff”

“Of course” She smiled, “If you want sometime you can invite him round”

“Thanks, Kate. Good night” I smiled.

“Night, Chantelle”

When the light clicked off I was still sitting up. When the hall light also clicked off I flipped the switch back on for my bedside lamp and pulled my book that I had been given by Mrs Regal. I flicked past the page with the numbers and instead looked at the pictures. When I got to Jake’s I paused for a moment. I remembered our kiss. I remembered sitting outside with him watching the sunset. I remembered the last time I saw his that morning when he said goodbye. He gave me a hug and he looked sad. He slipped his mobile number on a piece of paper into my hand which I stuck into the notebook. In the picture his light brown hair was flopping over his eyes slightly and a lopsided grin spread across his face. His bright blue eyes connected with the camera and one eyebrow was raised, his signature pose he called it. I loved it. The freckles on his ski-sloped nose stood out against his pale skin. I sighed and put the notebook back in the draw. I had put the little box of diaries under my bed, in the hope I would forget about then until I was truly ready to read them. I cut the lights and the room plunged into darkness.

 

Chapter 12
The next day

“Morning sleepy” It was nine thirty and I had slept solid all night. When I had woken up I had trudged downstairs in my dressing gown and slippers and sat on the breakfast bar with them, “Want some breakfast? There is some bacon rashers left in the oven if you want bacon, egg and a muffin” Joe said.

“Yes please” Joe got up and cracked an egg in the pan. It sizzled as the egg cooked. He popped a muffin down in the toaster and waited until it popped up. When it was cooked he laid the egg on one muffin and the bacon on the other then placed the plate in front of me. Before I was put in care I never would have dreamed of having egg, bacon and muffin for breakfast.

Once I had finished, I sat back, “Thank you”

“Not a bad cook, am I?” Joe asked.

“Not bad at all” I replied. We all laughed and I got up taking my plate and glass with me and loaded it into the dish washer, “I’m going to go and get ready”

“Okay, it’s really hot outside; if you want you can borrow a pair of my shorts feel free, and don’t forget to bring your credit card” Kate responded.

“Ok, thanks, where are they?” I asked. Kate was cool.

“On a shelf in my wardrobe to the left of my dresser” I nodded and padded off upstairs. I couldn’t believe that I had been here a day and already Kate was letting me borrow her stuff and was going to buy me stuff. It took me a few moments to find her room and when I did I was amazed. Their room was huge. All but one of the walls had built in wardrobes into them. I located the desk and the wardrobe and then found a pair of denim shorts. They were fairly short and were a pale stonewash blue with slightly frayed pockets. I wondered if Joe had picked them out for her. With a spring in my step I wandered back into my room to get ready.

When I finally returned downstairs I met Kate and Joe in the living room that were waiting and ready to go out.

“Those short suit you better than they suit me! Keep them” I was shocked.

“But they are yours, it’s okay, we can buy some when we go out” I insisted.

“Honestly, what is the point of buying more shorts when we already have a dozen anyway, I have plenty, they are yours” Kate finished. I looked at Joe but he just shrugged. I was beaten.

“Okay thank you”

“Right, so let’s go” Joe dangled the keys in his hand.

The three of us wandered around the town centre, we let Joe lead the way to the best clothes shops that were relatively inexpensive. It was very hot out, so I had teamed the shorts with a strappy black top and some trainers. Joe was astounded at the state of my trainers but I had had them for about two years so they were too small and very tatty. Joe and Kate arranged that they would buy me some shoes for school, some clothes that would be okay for school and a few other bits and bobs including a schoolbag, pens, calculator ect. Whereas, I would get myself a dress or two for occasions, some other shoes, tops, jeans and shorts that I wanted for myself out of school, on weekends. I thought they were buying me way too much but they promised that it wasn’t any trouble and it was their duty to do that for me. I had no other complaints.

In the first two hours that brought us up to lunch time Kate and Joe had bought me my school bag and other things for school, two pairs of jeans, and four tops. We were on the hunt for shoes and I was on the hunt for another low fuss dress and some other clothes. Joe was amazing at picking out clothes. Both pairs of jeans were skinny to ‘show off my legs’ as he put it. He was right though, they did. The tops were all light in colour and were v-necked with short sleeves. We ate lunch at McDonalds then made out way to a dress shop that Joe knew well.

He greeted the man behind the cashier of a small shop. Quietly he murmured something to the man and he looked straight at me, held up one finger to Joe then hurried off. A few moments later he came back with a bundle of dresses in his arms.

“Try these for size, they should fit, all sizes eight to ten, the eights look like they would be a better fit” He handed them to me and showed me to the dressing room before I could say anything, “Just try on the ones you like, I won’t be offended” He closed the door behind me and I was left standing looking at myself in the mirror clutching the light dresses. I hung them up on the rail one at a time. The first one was dark blue with white polka dots and a silky material underneath the netted top half. The next one was blue and made out of a slightly different material but was v-necked and held up with little straps. The next two were similar in shape except one was bright red and the other was pink. The last one was black and strapless that was fitted to the waist then hung looser at the ends. I decided to try on the blue polka dot one first and when I pulled it over my head it fit perfectly. It came just above my knees and made me look like I had more of a figure. I opened the door of the dressing room for Joe’s opinion.

“Yes, yes, yes! Good choice” He exclaimed. The other man nodded in approval.

“How much is it?” I asked the man.

“Try on the others first” He replied. Confused again I went back in and tried on another one. This time I tried on the blue one. It went in at my waist and the ends flared out slightly. The colour complimented my now very long brown hair. I stepped outside again and got the same response. I tried on the red one which everybody loved, skipped the pink one and put on the black one which was lovely too. I returned to the shop in my normal clothes holding the dresses. The man took them from my hands and went to the till.

“I assume you would like these four?” He indicated to the ones I had tried, the pink one had been put back.

“Well, I don’t know if I have enough for them...” I began.

“Well, my usual price for these is fifteen pounds, but because Joe is a good friend of mine and helped me get my business going, they are your for five pounds each”  I gasped.

“Are you sure?” Joe stepped in.

“That’s why I love this shop, Kate and I always come here. I design his clothes and get them made, then sell them here; my works are more expensive though... I didn’t think you would want dresses worth hundreds of pounds though” I couldn’t help but let a small giggle escape my lips when I pulled out my card and slotted it into the machine. I had always dreamed of things like this happening to me, and now they finally were.

Another few hours later and we were walking around town on our way to the car with colourful bags filled with clothes and shoes. I was satisfied. I had spent just under ninety pounds and I didn’t dare ask how much Joe and Kate spent on me.

When we got home I collapsed on my bed and dropped the bags on the floor next to my bed. I had to put them all away but I had hardly any energy to do so. Sighing I got up and opened the wardrobe to dispose of my clothes. It looked considerably fuller and I was satisfied with the purchases. I sat back down on my bed and sighed deeply. I agreed to help Kate make dinner that evening and I regretted that proposal but I heaved myself up after a few more moments and went downstairs to put the pasta water on to boil and began to fry the chicken. Kate heard me and came in to give me a hand. We worked quietly and quickly and dinner was ready and served within half an hour.

After filling ourselves up with the meal, we, as usual, relaxed in from of the T.V and I started drawing. I decided to practise drawing people and I began to draw Kate who was sitting in on a couch with Joe. I turned my sketch pad sideways and drew them both together. As my pencil wandered over the page I wondered how Amy was settling in. Was she as happy with her family as I was with mine? Was she so happy that she didn’t want to contact me?  I couldn’t bring myself to ask my social worker if she knew anything, mainly because of the fear that she would come back with something I was refusing to believe. I wondered what her family was like. Did they have a big house like mine or a family pet? Were they old or young like mine? Did they spoil her like the daughter they never had or did she have brothers or sisters? I wondered if I would ever know. I hoped I would. I hugged my knees to my chests and rested the pad on them.

My pencil was making swift strokes on the page. I had drawn their face shapes and hair, the general shape of their neck and part of their bodies. Now I just needed to add in the details of their faces. I decided to draw them laughing at the comedy program that was on T.V. It looked like a new sitcom; they seemed to always be coming out with new seasons or similar story lined to the one before with a different name. So I rarely watched it. I had been my whole life so far without one so I decided I didn’t need to have one now.

An hour later, I had not only finished the drawing but gone upstairs and changed into my P.J’s. I sat at my desk. Tomorrow was Sunday, and then it was Monday. My first day at a proper school. I couldn’t pretend I wasn’t nervous, I would know nobody. Before, I didn’t really know anybody anyway. Maybe I would actually make some friends. No, I decided. I would make some friends. I would make a group of friends and invite them all over. We would go to parties. I would be in year eleven, it was very late in the year but I knew I had to start as soon as possible. This school had a year twelve so I would stay until seventeen. I didn’t think it would be much hope though; I would almost certainly fail any chance of going to college or university. Kate, Joe and I had spoken about this already. They said they would tutor me for an extra hour after school three or four times a week to try and start to make up for the about of time I had lost by not going to school. Jake had already helped with my maths dramatically but Joe would carry on my maths and science, whilst Kate would help me with English and cooking. I thought that seemed fair. I hoped it would help a bit but I doubted I would get a half decent job at this rate. Joe promised he would help me find something if I couldn’t. I put my head in my hands, Monday was going to be tough.

Chapter 13

My first day at school

My alarm buzzed at six thirty and I wondered what hit me. I floundered about for a moment, the shrillness of the sound hurting my ears. When I finally found it I clicked it off and dropped it on the floor. I lay back and sighed at the silence. When was the last time I had been up this early? First day at school. This felt backwards. I should have experienced this seven years ago, not now at sixteen and certainly not in secondary school year eleven. My alarm started buzzing again, I turned to my bedside table and hit the space where my alarm clock had been, realising too late that it was on the floor and I smashed my fist against the hard corner of the wood. With a throbbing hand I leant over the bed and searched in the dark for the clock. Suddenly, I toppled head first out of bed lay in a heap on the floor for a moment. Eventually, I found the clock, turned it off completely by removing the batteries, then turned on the light. The sudden brightness made my eyes water slightly and it took a moment to focus. I kicked the bedding off from around my legs, which had been pulled off the bed with me and got up. Yawning heavily, I stumbled into the bathroom and jumped in the shower, forgetting to wait for it to warm up before I got in. I shampooed my hair, and then conditioned the lengths of it, I couldn’t believe how long it was now, and it came down to almost my waist. I decided to wear a little makeup today because it was too hot to put lots on. Kate showed me what to wear the night before, so I pulled on shorts and a v-necked top which was short sleeved and was my favourite. I dried my hair and curled it around the tongs quickly so it curled and waved. Quickly, I sprayed some perfume, grabbed my bag, slipped on some flip flops and went downstairs. Kate was already down there and dressed, I checked the time on my watch, quarter past seven. She was up early.

“Morning, I thought I’d come down and see you before you went off. Breakfast is almost ready, it’s just in the oven”

“Okay thanks, Kate” I smiled and flopped down on the breakfast bar and watched the sun rising. Before me, a chocolate croissant was placed with freshly cut strawberries on the side. Realising I was ravenous, I took a bite of the croissant. It burned my mouth and I flapped my arms for a moment before taking a swig of my orange juice.

“Careful! Your head isn’t with you today is it?” Kate smiled gently. I nodded in agreement. I was even more nervous as the time ticked on.

 This time, I took a smaller and much more careful bite of the croissant and chased it with a strawberry. When I finished it was seven thirty and I had to leave to get the bus. Yesterday, Joe took me out to the bus stop and showed me which bus to get and where to get off. I would be starting at St. Christopher’s secondary school.

“Thank you for breakfast, Kate. I’m going to go now” I said. As I stood I could feel my legs shaking slightly.

“Okay, see you when you get home” Kate came to the door with me and waved me off. It was a short five minute walk to the bus stop. Whilst I was walking there I went through my timetable which they had posted to me. I had maths first. I knew I would be in all the lower sets anyway because I had no grades registered since year six or seven. When I got to the bus stop it was deserted so I sat down and glanced up at the sign. The bus would arrive in about two minutes. Two minutes of peace.

My bag bumped against my hip and my flip flops clacked on my feet and I walked down the hall to find my classroom. It was a pretty big place, but was really friendly and open. When I found my first class people had began to go in already, so I went in and over to the teachers desk. She looked up at me and smiled, 

“Are you Chantelle?” I nodded, “Welcome, Chantelle, you may find this a bit difficult because we are halfway through this topic already but I’m sure you will pick it up soon enough. One moment please... Ashley, could you come here for a moment?” She beckoned a girl over, same height and size as me, also wearing shorts but a three quarter length sleeve top that was thin and light. On her feet were little white ballet pumps and her hair was the similar length to mine but wavy,

“Yes Miss?” Her voice was sweet and innocent.

“Could you do me a favour in looking after, Chantelle for me please? She is new here, but isn’t boarding which is something you two will have in common I hope”

“Of course” She flattered, “Come on Chantelle, you can sit next to me, I’ll talk you through the ropes” She winked and with an air of rich girl grace, she beckoned me over to a seat near the back, “So your new?” She asked when we had sat down.

“Yeah, just moved here” Well, that was true, but I didn’t move here on choice.

“Oh cool” She nodded, “Well, St Christopher’s is an amazing school, I moved here about three years ago, maybe?” She looked deep in thought then nodded, “Yep, three years. I moved here from London, where did you live before here?” London, explains the fancy clothes and well made up face, I thought to myself.

“South end, ever heard of it?” I asked. She nodded.

“Yeah, I like that place, it’s not bad, did you live near the sea?” It was my turn to nod, “Oh that’s cute!” Cute? I couldn’t see how living by the sea was cute but I went with it anyway.

“So, anyway, I’m guessing you’ll want a tour guide, right?” She smiled again, showing off a set of straight white teeth.

“Yes please, if you don’t mind...” I trailed off slightly, I felt like I was already becoming a nuisance.

“Of course! No, I’d love to; you can hang around with us if you want”

“Yeah that would be nice” I smiled and turned my attention to the teacher who was beginning to silence the class and start our lesson.

Maths seemed to go quite quickly. It was a recap lesson so I caught on pretty quickly. They were doing something about mean, median, mode and range and how to calculate it. I thought I could remember Jake teaching me something about it vaguely but I wasn’t sure. The next lesson was Biology. I groaned inwardly when I remembered. Ashley didn’t have biology with me so she grabbed another girl, who was undoubtedly one of her friends, called Stella and asked her to help me through it. As I walked with Stella we talked about the school and went a slightly longer route round so we went outside and she showed me the vast fields from a slight distance. They were huge. I could easily imagine the different years running around and playing football or rounders on them. I noticed Stella was wearing a pale pink version of the ballet pumps Ashley was wearing and also was teamed with shorts but had a normal t-shirt on that was pale pink and lacy. I pinpointed her as the girly girl of their group. Her hair was brown like mine but with a hint of redness in the sun and was half my length but had a side parting with lots of choppy layers that made it bounce as she walked. Well, it was not so much a walk but more of a strut. When we arrived she introduced me to the teacher and sat at the back with me. It was a lot desk that went around one length and the two widths of the room, leaving the front open for the teachers’ desk and two boards. I was in the middle of Stella and a boy with dark hair and glasses. He looked up and nodded once to me, then resumed his bored position of one hand supporting his chin as though he didn’t have enough energy to keep it up himself. A man with a balding head, jeans and a shirt strode back into the class, after leaving momentarily with a stack of papers and now returning empty handed,

“Please everybody, let’s be hushed” Everyone fell silent, “Today, we will be discussing the effects of alcohol and drugs on the body, please copy this title and the date into your books” He paused for a moment as if wanting a dramatic effect, when he got nothing except the sound of pens scratching on paper he continued, 

“There is a new student here, Chantelle” He pointed to me and a few people said hello. I blushed. He saw me blush and moved on quickly to the topic. This lesson would be tough.

“Who knows anything about the effects of alcohol or drugs within the body?” Mr Williams asked the class. I 

felt myself tense up as a few hands raised. I didn’t raise mine. He selected a student, who said,

“They can make you do stupid things” Like kiss your daughter.

“Very good, James” He jotted it down on the diagram he had drawn on the board, “What else?”

“They can make you sick” Like Mother sleeping in a pool of her own sick.

“They can make you violent” Like when Father hit me and threw me against a wall.

“You could get alcohol poisoning” That’s how Mother died.

“You can end up in prison or rehab” That’s where Father is.

“Thank you, Chantelle, do you have any thoughts or ideas on this?” I looked up startled and when I realised 

he was talking to me I stumbled over my words.

“Umm... I... I don’t know” Liar.

“Are you sure you can’t think of anything?”

I paused for a moment then spoke quietly, “You could die” Just like Mother.

“Very good, Chantelle, don’t be afraid to speak up” He said kindly.

“I’m not afraid” I said it before I could stop myself.

“Okay, well then why did you say you didn’t know?” He asked me again with kindness in his voice. In reply all I could do was shrug. If I said anymore it would either all come out or I would end up crying and embarrassing myself. This was not an idea lesson but I forced myself to try and think of other things. 

However, I soon realised that lesson that there was no escaping this and I had no choice.

An hour later after ultimate torture it was break/ I followed Stella outside where she met up with  Ashley and another girl, they all looked so strikingly similar in their beauty but were each so individual.

“Hey newbie, how are you settling in?” Ashley greeted me.

“Good thanks, it’s not bad” I replied.

“I think bio was a bit much for her though” Stella looked thoughtful.

“Why? What happened?” Ashley asked, “By the way, this is Becky”

“Hi Becky and I don’t really wanna talk about it right now” They all shrugged simultaneously.

“Fair enough” Becky said and flicked a strand of also wavy hair over her shoulder, “You guys still in for this Saturday?” They saw my confused expression and she explained, “Every Saturday we always have to do something together, even if we just hang out at someone’s house, or we sleepover, or we shop” I nodded. So this was girl world. This was what it was like to be a friend.

“Why don’t you join us?” Ashley piped up.

“Oh I don’t know, its okay, I don’t mind” I began but Stella cut through.

“It’s settled, Chantelle, your our friend now” After a day and I was their friend. That was easier than I 

thought.

“Okay, thanks guys” They all giggled.

“So what are the plans, Becky?” Stella turned to me, “She is our organiser, you see. The rest of us are too scatty to think of anything like that! Or even remember!”Ashley nodded mocking Stella’s lost wide-eyed look. I couldn’t suppress my laughter.

“I actually don’t know... we’ve hung out like everywhere... at least twice! We even went bowling” She told me in undertone and they shuddered.

“What’s so bad about bowling?” I asked.

“The shoes are hideous” Of course, I should have known. A girl’s nightmare, wearing shoes that not only 

looked bad, but had also been worn by more than one person before.

“So what will we do?” Ashley turned to Becky.

“Come to mine” I said it before I could stop myself. Kate and Joe defiantly wouldn’t mind. They were cool with stuff like that as they had said, “I can ask them tonight and let you know tomorrow”

“Are you sure?” They asked.

“Yeah sure, it’ll be fine” They seemed a bit hesitant but I could see their thinking. Anything was better than nothing. I told them how to get there and they all nodded, they knew where I was talking about. They had also agreed to come. They were surprised that I didn’t have a mobile but I explained that I had never needed one before so I wasn’t going to bother getting one unless it became a necessity. They just nodded in part agreement but I could see that it still really confused them as to why on earth I wouldn’t need one. All they seemed to do was check their BBM’s or facebook pages. I just didn’t see the point but I knew it would be an idea to get one when I could. I decided that I would wait a bit; if I got a letter from Amy then I would get one and call her.

The next lesson, History, was a blur. The teacher spoke faster than the kids but had a very funny sense of humour which I liked about him. History wasn’t my favourite subject ever, but he seemed appalled that I didn’t know anything about World War two, let alone who Hitler was. Nobody knew my situation, and as far as I was concerned, no one needed to know. So far, my bag had got heavier and heavier, now filled with new textbooks or exercise books. After History, we had P.E. The fields were massive and we were outside playing rounders. Stella, Becky and Ashley were all in my P.E set so we grabbed the spots by the mirror and started getting changed. Ashley was complaining about a spot on her chin whilst Becky was frantically applying sun lotion when I heard Stella gasp. We turned around to see what the matter was. She was looking straight at me.

“What happened to your back? What are all the marks and scars?” I mentally slapped my forehead. I had forgotten about those. I faltered over my words.

“Oh, well, umm, they’re nothing, just some past incidents”

“Jeez, honey, they don’t look like nothing” Ashley said, finally talking her attention away from the spot on her chin. I noticed that day she liked to call everyone honey.

“Umm, well, it’s not nothing but it doesn’t really matter anymore” They looked shocked.

“Of course it matters! We’re your friends, I know we’ve only know you for like a day but still” Ashley protested.

“Someday you will find out, but I’m sorry, I can’t tell you right now” They nodded with a chorus of ‘fair enough’s’ and ‘okay’s’. I suddenly felt very self conscious as I pulled my P.E top on. I moved over to the mirror to tie up my hair when I saw my legs. I hadn’t noticed it when I had worn shorts over the weekend but I could faintly see the belt scars, the cane scars and glass cut scars. I pulled my top up slightly and my whole back was a complete mess of scars. I sighed, I would have to tell them at some point. I wouldn’t tell them everything but I would have to tell them something at least.

Chapter 14

My new friends

“Come in guys” I beckoned to them to come in. They gasped when they saw the interior. I smiled inwardly to myself. I had wondered what their reactions would be like.

“Are the girls here, Chantelle?” Kate called to me.

“Yeah” I replied.

“Okay, I left you some stuff in the cupboards, help yourself to drinks” She replied.

“Thanks, Kate” They looked at me oddly.

“Who’s Kate?” Ashley asked, pulling her sunglasses away from her eyes.

I hesitated. “My foster mum” They looked confused still, “I’ll explain in a second. Drinks?”They nodded and followed me through to the kitchen. They gasped again at the view from the glass wall. The desire to laugh was almost over whelming.

“Cokes?” I asked. They nodded, dumb found at the size of the house, “Guys? Hello? Help yourself to something in the cupboard or I can make us something” They had a look in the cupboards and grabbed some crisps, chocolates and I grabbed some popcorn because Becky had brought a movie round. They followed me up the stairs and down the various corridors that lead to my room. When I opened the door their eyes boggled but looked at me strangely when I told them to go into the wardrobe.”Trust me guys, come through” I flopped down on the giant bean bags and set everything down. They did the same.

“Wow, your house is amazing!” Ashley gushed.

“Thanks, I guess I got lucky” I grinned. Very lucky indeed.

“What do you mean lucky? I thought you moved here?” Stella flipped her hair over her shoulder and looked around.

“Well, I was moved here, Kate and Joe are my foster parents”

“You’re fostered?” They looked at each other before Stella asked, “What happened then?”

I paused. Should I tell them? I mean, they were my friends now. We hadn’t stopped hanging out all week and we were always together. I told them briefly without much detail, if they wanted to know more, they would have to ask questions,

“Well, my Mum died when I was young, then my Dad got taken away by the police a few years later when my sister had an accident and the paramedics came. They called the police because of the state the house and everything was in. Then I was put in a foster home for a while, now I’m here” Their faces were filled with sympathy.

“Where is your sister?” Becky asked.

“I don’t know” I told them truthfully. She could be anywhere.

“Was she fostered too?” I nodded.

“When you said about the state of your house being the reason that your Dad was taken by the police, was 

it really that bad?” Ashley asked.

“It was a wreck. Really cluttered, everything was broken, it stank to high heaven of smoke, glass bottles were everywhere and drink cans... I think just by me saying that you can work out what kind of person he was”

Their expressions didn’t change and Ashley slipped an arm around my shoulders, “What did he do? You don’t have to say if you don’t want to but if you need to talk about it, you can tell us” I sighed, I knew they would ask. So, in reply I turned around and lifted up my top to expose my back and stomach and showed them my shoulders that were covered with a three quarter length sleeves. Then finally showed them my battered legs and crooked middle finger. I knew there was no point in saying anything. Afterwards, Stella looked close to tears and so was I. I had never told anybody about this before. Ashley wrapped her arm around me again. I tried not to cry but I couldn’t help it, a few tears rolled down my cheeks. She squeezed my shoulders then released me.

“Do you want to change topic?” She asked. I nodded and mumbled thanks whilst wiping away the tears.

“So, do you want to put the movie on then?” Becky asked, handing over the DVD. I took it from her and put it in the player. I pressed play and sat back. We cracked open the popcorn tub and dived in. I was happy to get that off my chest although I was equally disappointed with myself. I couldn’t believe that I had opened up like that to three people that I had known for only a week. I never opened up to anyone like that. I just really felt like I could trust these girls. I hadn’t even realised the scars were so bad. I was just so used to ignoring them that I forgot they were even there. Sighing, I took another handful of popcorn. Becky had chosen a comedy film, and we all began laughing hysterically. Completely forgetting what had happened just five minutes ago.

When the movie was over, Stella asked me if she could style my hair.

“Trust me, she’s really good” Becky insisted, seeing my doubtful expression. Eventually, with a little more persuasion from Becky, I let her. I sat on the floor in front of her. She said she was doing something called a waterfall braid. I had never heard of it but I let her anyway. Ashley’s phone buzzed and she squealed,

“It’s from Steven!”

“Who’s Steven?” I asked, wincing slightly as another strand of hair was given to me to hold.

“Her future husband” Stella snickered.

“Shut up, Stella!” Ashley put on a mock-hurt expression and folded her arms.

“It’s mystery boy Steven that we’ve never met but she’s smitten” Becky explained. I laughed silently.

“It’s not like you guys have never been in love!” She exclaimed, “Stella how’s Patrick?” I could visibly see Stella’s cheeks redden out of the corner of my eye.

“Who is Patrick?” I asked, feeling slightly left out.

“Her boyfriend” Becky and Ashley started making ooh and ahh noises.

“You don’t have a boyfriend, Becky! I don’t see what you’re laughing at” Stella replied.

“Anyway, what is Patrick like? Does he go to our school” I asked, now feeling very curious.

“He’s the one you sat next to in Biology” She replied. She was dating the kid with glasses and long dark floppy hair that had a permanently bored expression? He seemed alright, I didn’t know what the other girls were teasing about. I spoke my thoughts aloud,

“He seems okay though”

“She moved him up the social ladder, he used to be really geeky but she fell for him, and suddenly he is Mr Popular” Becky explained, “But, don’t worry, we don’t rate you on who you like, we think it’s cute” Cute? Again, why was everything they said cute? I wondered. I took a strip off the giant Cadbury bar and took a bite.

“Yeah, well, look what he is now, compared to what he used to be” Stella insisted.

“He went from geeky, always pouring over textbooks and never seen without a calculator to suddenly, the school stud. Every year knows him” Ashley said, before adding, “Stella is the most popular girl in our year, in case that wasn’t obvious” She rolled her eyes dramatically, “If we hadn’t saved her, who knows what might have happened?” She stood up and flounced around, flicking her hair over her shoulder and sighing whilst pretending to talk on the phone and file her nails. She put on a very big display and had us in fits of giggles, including Stella.

“Done, you can let go of that hair now” Stella said to me, which indicated my hair was finally done. I got up and stretched my legs which were full of pins and needles. I gasped, it was such a beautiful braid that followed my parting and went all the way around my head.

“Thanks, Stella, I love it” I gushed and she smirked as if to say, I told you I was good.

When I sat back down, Ashley’s phone buzzed again and she practically dived on it. I was beginning to see that having a phone was going to become more and more of a necessity. Judging from her smile, it was Steven. Stella plugged in her phone to a pair of miniature portable speakers and started singing to the song that came on. I had never heard it before. She could sing as well. I could defiantly see how she became popular.

“Do you have a boyfriend, Chantelle?” Becky asked me over the buzz of the music. Stella pulled me up and began dancing with me. In mid twirl I answered,

“Yes, his name is Jake; I met him in the fostering home” They squealed again. I defiantly would have to get used to their responses. I couldn’t see how it was such a big deal but I slowly had to train myself to think in girl world mode, “He’s really cute” I went on, purposely using the word cute to see their response. Their eyes widened, “And he bought me this for my sixteenth birthday” I showed them the bracelet and their eyes might as well as fallen out their sockets.

“It’s beautiful” Becky breathed, “You are so lucky” Lucky. I almost wish that people wouldn’t say I was lucky. I was anything but lucky. I wondered what it would be like if you could video the most important, scary, life changing and happiest moments of your life, just so you could watch them back again and again. Then maybe people would see what your life was like through your eyes, without guessing. Maybe they would finally see the real you, not the one wearing a mask that you put on when someone plays with your life. I wish I could relive my life, born into a different family, meet new people, see new things, and live a normal life. My life would never be normal. I couldn’t walk out in the street without thinking people were staring. Adult men scared me. Adult men with alcohol scared me even more. I would never admit that to anyone. Not even Stella, Ashley or Becky. Although, Joe never scared me, something told me I had to trust him. Any stranger scared me, if I was walking on my own and I saw a man with a cigarette or anything, I would cross the road if I could. I wouldn’t go in pubs or anything of the sort. I wouldn’t tell them that of course, not yet, they would know soon though.

"I know" I replied not knowing what else to say to that. I put the bracelet away again and sat back down with the girls.

"Girls?" I heard Kate call. She popped her head around the door,
"Just making sure everything is alright, are you staying for dinner?" The girls looked at me and I nodded,

"You can stay if you want to" They all nodded excitedly with a chorus of 'thank you's'.

"Well what would you like?" Kate asked, "I can whip you up something fresh? Spaghetti bolognaise? Lasagne? Roast Pork?" The girls looked wide-eyed at Kate listing these meals.

"Kate" Becky began; "I'm sorry to be a bother but I'm a vegetarian" Kate smiled.

"That’s quite alright, I'll make you something up, what do you three want?" Eventually, we decided on roast pork. When Kate left, they looked at me.

"Kate is so cool!" Ashley exclaimed. I nodded in agreement then turned the music up.

Chapter 15

When I saw Jake again

Patiently, I looked around. Jake would be here soon. I stretched my legs out in front of me and leant back on the park bench back rest. It was very hot still, even for August. Amy would be turning twelve in four days. I still hadn’t heard anything from her. Kate and Joe told me they were sure when we were both ready she would write to me like promised. I didn’t know what she meant by both of us but I didn’t ask again. I really wanted to see her, I missed her like crazy. I hoped she was well and enjoying her new life. I was, but it wasn’t the same without her. I had done everything to help her for her whole life. It had never been any different until now. She was gone. I had no idea when I would see her again, or if I would see her again.

 Jake had called me and asked if we could meet up today. I agreed, I had a feeling he would cheer me up. He was good at that, whenever I was down I just needed to call and he would be there or he would talk to me for hours. He had been fostered but luckily he didn’t live too far away. In fact he lived nearer now than he did in the home.

I tilted my head down because the sun’s glare made my eyes dance, even with sunglasses. I plucked at the holes in my shorts making the rips bigger. I liked the ripped denim style; it summed me up in a way. Carelessly and purposely ripped apart. 

“Is this seat free?” I snap out of my thoughts and look up to see Jake standing there shielding his eyes from the sun, wearing long denim shorts and a casual t-shirt.

“Oh sorry, I’m waiting for someone” I smile.

“Oh well, I’m sure he won’t mind if I take it for a while” He grins and sits down next to me. I pull his arm round my shoulders and rest my head against him.

“Hello” I murmur.

“Hello beautiful” He replies. I smile. Suddenly, I feel calmer than I have for a long time, “Want to walk?” I nod.

“That would be nice” He looped his hand in mine and pulled me up off the bench. For a while we walked around the large lake, hand in hand, just talking. We didn’t really talk about anything, just something to take our minds off everything.

“Ice cream?” Jake asked me. I nodded and smiled at him. We walked up the paved steps to the little cafe and queued for an ice cream. I went to get my purse out with my free hand but Jake batted it away and paid for them himself. I smiled, and the man behind the counter smiled too. This went unnoticed by Jake who just leant against the surface checking out the menu. The man handed us the ice creams and bade us good day.

We walked to table and sat down opposite each other, eating and talking. A little girl about six or seven was tugging on her Mother’s sleeve and pointing to the ice cream man.

“How is life with Kate and Joe then?” Jake asked.

“It’s great, Kate is so cool and Joe is a really nice guy” I replied, keeping my eyes on the girl, “They take me out places, let my friends sleep over” I turned to face him for a moment, “Normal people stuff” Then I turned away again.

“That’s good, Liz and Tom are okay I suppose but I don’t think I’ll be staying with them for much longer” The girl finally had her ice cream and was happily eating it.

“You’re moving?” I questioned.

“Maybe, I’ve over heard talk with the social worker. Although they want me to stay at this school I’m at now, so hopefully I’ll still be in the area” Out the corner of my eye I saw him shrug.

“I hope so too” I replied. The girl was still eating her ice cream and petting their dog; I couldn’t hear her but I assumed she was babbling away excitedly to it.

“It’s already far enough” I nodded in agreement, “So...” He began awkwardly and I knew what was coming next, “Have you heard anything from Amy?” His question felt like a blow to the stomach and I shook my head, “Oh, I’m sorry”

“It’s okay” I replied, “I just really miss her, you know? I haven’t seen or heard from her for months and months...” I trailed off remembering the last time I saw her when she promised me she would write to me and held out her pinkie finger to me, I felt my face drop.

“It’ll be okay, maybe it is just taking her a bit of time getting used to it all, she’ll write when she is ready” Jake tried to reason.

“That’s what Kate and Joe keep saying but she never does!” I exclaimed. I was beginning to feel frustrated, Jake had a point but I was sick of hearing the same things.

“Okay, okay, it’ll be okay” He pulled his chair round next to me and pulled his arm round my shoulders and pulled me closer to him, “Get her address off your social worker when you next see her if you can”

“Kate and Joe said they won’t give me it” I sniffed.

“Just try, if they say no, they say no, you’ll just have to be patient, babe” I nodded.

“Okay” I smiled up and him and he kissed my forehead. When I looked round to see if the little girl was there I saw she had gone. Vanished. I scanned the park but saw nothing, “Come on” I said pulling Jake up, 

“Push me on the swings” He laughed and let me drag him into the park and pushed me on the swings. When I was going so high that he couldn’t push me anymore he stood on the swing next to me and swung whilst standing up. As my swing lowered I stood up too and we swung out of time to each other watching the other kids run round and climbing on the rock walls and big red roped pyramids. I laughed as the expression on one of the Father’s faces turn white when he saw his daughter was at the top. She was hanging there calling down to him that she was the queen. Jake saw it too.

“Race?” He asked. I grinned and jumped off the swing, “Hey!” He shouted, running after me. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me round so he was in front.

“That’s not fair!” I yelled to him. We climbed up the roped pyramid, laughing and getting dismissive looks from the parents, but we didn’t care. Jake just beat me to the top and we sat at the top, slightly out of breath. I looked around. From up here I really did feel like a queen. I could see for miles and miles in every direction. On the fields I could see parents trying to set up picnics and their children nicking their food and misbehaving. Others were squealing as they went down the slide. Another group of older girls were hanging upside down on a bar whilst texting. In the skate park a load of boys were showing off to a party of applauding girls on bikes, scooters and roller blades. Jake reached out and took my hand, I held it tightly.

“Do you ever wonder what life would have been like if we had had different parents?” He asked, looking deeply into my eyes. I nodded.

“Yes, I do” I said sadly.

“What is it like?” He asked. I looked at him puzzled, “Okay for example, my life would have been happier, and I wouldn’t have been depressed or got involved in gang fights. My Dad wouldn’t have died for starters but even when he was alive I just wanted my parents to have actually cared and not neglected me. I want a family that didn’t leave me in a park miles away from home in the hope they wouldn’t see me again” I had never heard any of this before. Jake had always been reluctant to tell me anything about his past even though I told him everything about mine. I didn’t mind though, it took me a while to tell him everything too.

“How old were you when they left you?” I asked, not entirely sure if I wanted to hear the answer.

“I was eight” He sighed, “Shortly after that Dad died. I was heartbroken. He may have done some nasty stuff to me but I still loved him. More than my Mum in fact. She did horrible stuff to me, she burned me a few times, I made her a mug of tea whilst she was drunk and she threw it over me. That’s why...” He lifted up the side of his shirt revealing a large white mark on his left side, “I have this scar” I shivered suddenly, remembering my scars. I hadn’t shown Jake those yet. I was too scared, but suddenly, now I felt braver. I lifted up the front of my shirt a little bit, just revealing my stomach and lower back. He gasped. He had seen my legs and arms but hadn’t realised it was all over my body. I showed him how crooked my fingers were as well from being broken. He shook his head sadly, “People are so cruel” He muttered.

I nodded in agreement before saying, “If I had different parents I would still want Amy to be with me, but I would want to do what all these children are doing...” I indicated to the people having the picnic, they girls hanging upside down and the girls playing on the slide, “I didn’t want to have to have stolen from the corner shop so we could have food at Christmas” I paused again, “I just want to hear Amy’s voice again” I finished. Embarrassed slightly,  I looked down at my legs and began to swing them back and forth while Jakes mind churned over what I had just said.

“Amy will speak again” Eventually Jake said. He said it with confidence but I didn’t feel as confident as he did. I stood up and began climbing down, he followed me and when we were safely on two feet he smiled at me, “Don’t be sad now, be happy for when you will see her” I nodded and smiled back. Somehow, he always made me smile, no matter how upset I was. He was my first friend, the first person to accept me for who I was other than Amy. The first person who I had met that understood how I felt. A question suddenly popped into my mind,

“How did you get put into care then?” I asked slowly.

“I ran to a neighbour’s house and told them everything, it was pretty scary but they called the police and the police got social services involved. I couldn’t thank her enough for calling them, I told her about the gangs and the fights and that once I came this close” He held his thumb and first finger an inch apart, “To stabbing someone. Crazy right, it was so scary. I didn’t do it in the end, another one of the lads did it instead because I was ‘taking too long’” He scoffed, “Idiots they were, well and truly, I’m glad they didn’t turn me, they threatened to kill me if I didn’t join them. Better alive than dead I guess” He coughed awkwardly, “I guess that’s a bit much to take in” I nodded but pulled him into a hug.

“It’s okay, we’ve all done things or had things done to us that would shock anyone” I said, remembering 

Father kissing me and shuddered. Jake knew what I was talking about and wrapped his arms round me tighter.

“Come on, let’s go” He took my hand and pulled me back over to the cafe, “Want to share a burger?” He asked me.

“Yes please”

“Coke?” He asked and I laughed and nodded, “Oh yeah, I forgot, I hardly need to ask” He put his hand on his heart and mock feinted, “As if the darling Chantelle would have anything else” He bowed and I slapped his arm.

“Can I help you?” The impatient man behind the till asked.

“Oh yeah sorry, one double cheese burger with chips and no salad” He winked at me. Jake hated salad, 

 “And two cokes please” The man tapped the order into his till and waited for the screen to load up the price.

“

Six pounds twenty please” He asked, holding his hand out for the money.

“Oh wait!” I said, “Can I have a chocolate muffin too please?” The man looked exasperated and tapped that into his till again.

“Is that all?” He asked before clicking enter. We nodded, “Okay that’s seven pounds forty-five” Jake handed over the money and the man snapped it away in his till quickly before grabbing a tray, putting the cokes and muffin on it and calling to the kitchens for a double burger, “We will bring the burger over in a moment, you are table eleven” He said. Jake took the tray over and we sat down sipping the cokes. When the burger was brought over it was huge. I could see why it was a good idea to share. We didn’t bother cutting it in half; we just took bites out of it in turn. It was funnier eating it like that anyway. When we finished we were well and truly stuffed and it was four o’clock.

“We had better get going, I have to be home for five” Jake said. I only had to get the bus back, it was a twenty minute journey, so I nodded, “I’ll walk you to the bus stop, Liz is picking me up outside Waitrose” We got up and Jake took my hand again. We walked through the short alley that lead directly to the high street from the park and across to the bus stop. The bus was arriving in five minutes so Jake said he would go. He pulled me into a hug again and I let my head rest against his shoulder.

“I love you” He said.

“I love you too Jake” I replied. He pulled his head back and kissed me before letting go and walking off with a wave. I felt empty without his around and I watched him walk off. The bus pulled up and I slumped at the back with my feet up, hugging my knees and sighed. I missed him already. I let my mind wander off.

 

Chapter 16
When I find the diaries

“Turn up the music, Chantelle!” Ashley says mid dance. We are in my room and dancing to some loud techno songs on Ashley’s iPod whilst eating Doritos. I turned the dial right up and we danced. Ashley was sleeping over tonight and Kate and Joe said they didn’t mind if we stayed up all night. Considering how big the house was, I doubted they could hear the music unless they were in the corridor to my bedroom. Their room was a few corridors down from mine, and when I say corridors, I mean actual full length corridors.

“How loud do you want this to go?” I yelled over the music, laughing. It felt good to let lose, Ashley and I discovered it really helped because I had never really done it. It made me feel happier than it should and make me laugh more than it was funny.

“I have a stitch!” Ashley gasped. I giggled and so did she, “Come here” She beckoned me over, phone in hand. I leant in next to her and she snapped a picture of us then she carried of dancing. Eyes closed and half jumping, half swaying in time to the music.

“Ashley, want some more Doritos?” I asked holding the empty packet. She nodded and followed me downstairs. I was right, the music sounded faint from the kitchen.

“Having fun?” Kate asked from the doorway. We nodded, “Instead of crisps, why don’t I make you some chocolate muffins and biscuits?” We grinned at each other then at Kate and she laughed and set about making them, “Go on you two, raid the DVD cupboard”

“Thank you!” We squealed and ran off. I didn’t see but I was sure Kate would have rolled her eyes. Eventually, we settled on ‘The Break Up’ and ‘P.S I Love You’. We had seen them many times before but loved them as if we were watching them for the first time. We decided to start watching a movie whilst waiting for Kate so we made our way into one of the other living rooms and flopped down on one of the couches to watch them.

An hour or so later, Kate came in with a bowl of warm cookies and a plate of warm muffins.

“Wow Kate, thank you!” Ashley gasped.

“That’s okay, don’t eat them all now, save some for later!” We dived in and when the movie had finished we had eaten half the cookies and two cupcakes each.

“Ooops” I giggled.

“Ooops” Ashley agreed, “Let’s go upstairs and watch the other movie later, yeah?” I nodded and we ran back upstairs.

 

 We flopped down on my bed, hot from dancing and giggling from Ashley’s impressions of Simon Cowell and various farm animals.

“That was so funny” I shrieked. Ashley just laughed and carried on singing to ‘So good’ by B.O.B. Suddenly, Ashley sat up and dug her phone out of her pocket. She tapped out a reply and smiled. I guessed it was from her boyfriend. She got up and went over to the other side of the room.

“Catch!” She yelled and lobbed her phone at me. I caught it and threw it back. When she tried to throw it back again she missed and it skidded on the floor under my bed, “I got it!” She yelled and dived under my bed along with it. My laughter was cut short when I heard, “Umm, Chantelle, what is this?” She wriggled out and pulled out a big cardboard box. I shrugged; I had no idea it was under there. I kneeled down next to her and ripped the tape off it. Clouds of dust flew off it and we coughed before opening it. It was filled with books. No, notebooks.

“Wait” I stopped and Ashley looked at me. It couldn’t be, I thought.

“What is it?” Ashley asked.

“My Mothers diaries”

“What?” Ashley looked at me. I couldn’t move. I had completely forgotten about them. Quickly, I slammed the lid closed and roughly smoothed the tape down, “Chantelle stop, what’s the matter?” I ignored her and hurriedly shoved them back under my bed and got up.

“Let’s go watch that other movie” Ashley looked confused for a moment but decided not to say anything else about it and followed me. My blood was pumping in my ears and my heart felt like it was in my throat. I had forgotten about them completely. Part of me was glad I had forgotten about them, but the other half was ashamed that I forgot something so important and valuable. I tried to shake the thought out of my mind so I could concentrate on the movie whilst eating some more muffins and sipping some cherryade.

Later at about one am we were still dancing in my room and trying on all my clothes, taking photos and eating popcorn. I had never had a sleepover before, it was so much fun. I couldn’t believe I had been deprived of all this when I was younger. Ashley’s iPod songs were beginning to repeat themselves and the speakers on her docking station sounded exhausted but we didn’t care.

“This proves that you don’t need alcohol to have a good time” Ashley yelled whilst jumping. I agreed with that, “I got drunk once and hated it, it wasn’t my fault though, it was at my cousins party, she made a non-alcoholic punch and someone put vodka in it, I haven’t drunk since” I couldn’t help but giggle at that. The thought of Ashley drunk was too much and I collapsed on the bed in fits of laughter. That started Ashley off too and we both ended up with tears streaming down our faces. Ashley stood up and did a handstand against my wall and pulled funny faces at me. I took a picture and she yelled out indignantly. She tried to prise the camera out my hands but I wouldn’t let go so she gave up.

“Sometimes, I thanks the Lord you don’t have facebook” She admitted.

“It only takes a few clicks” I warned.

“You wouldn’t!” She looked at me wide eyed.

“Oh wouldn’t I?” Her face was priceless as she dived for the camera again, “Woah, calm it. I won’t put it on facebook”

“Phew” She said. I laughed again, “I’ve had too much popcorn!” Ashley yelled clutching her stomach. My stomach felt like a bottomless pit, I could easily keep eating. I decided that I would make up for the amount of meals I had missed out on, to try and put on some weight. Becky and Stella thought I was mad for wanting to gain weight, but I didn’t want to be smaller than them and to me, they were tiny anyway.

“No, you’ve done too much dancing” I said then got up and carried on dancing, she looked at me like I was crazy.

“Give me five minutes” She panted then began to make over the top whining noises and yelling things like, ‘Oh my stomach’ and ‘I’m going to die!’ I ignored her and chucked her pyjamas at her then went to get my own out my wardrobe. She ambled back into my room about ten minutes later dressed in identical pyjamas to mine. We had decided to share my double bed with two sleeping bags to save blowing up an airbed. She got in next to me and we began talking. Then at about four am we fell into an exhausted, dreamless sleep.

Chapter 17
When I was ready to read the diaries

I paused, trying to calm my breathing. The box was in front of me. Lid still closed, but this time I remembered what was underneath. Jake squeezed my hand and together we opened the lid. I let go of his hand and pulled the diaries out. They were numbered one to seven. I pulled out the one that was labelled number one and opened it. The books were all spiral bound and the paper was tinged a funny colour but everything was still legible. I took a deep breath and began to read out loud, “April twenty-fifth, it’s my sixteenth birthday, so I decided to write a diary, I have no idea if...”

April twenty-fifth, it’s my sixteenth birthday, so I decided to write a diary, I have no idea if I’ll be able to keep it but it’s worth a try. I guess I really just need to get some things off my chest. This birthday has been pretty cool apart from the fact that my Dad won’t let me have Richard round (my boyfriend) because Stacy (my step-mum) doesn’t like him. He is twenty and she doesn’t approve of him, Dad thinks he’s okay,  but I love him. It was pretty annoying that he couldn’t come over. I’m sneaking out tonight; Dad and Stacy have to go away on a business trip together which sucks because it’s on my birthday. Shows how much they care, she completely controls him, but it’s good because I can go out and see Richard. We have a whole evening planned. He is taking me out for dinner and we were going to go and sit by the river and talk all night. I don’t know. I guess one of the reasons I’m dating Richard is because he has buckets of money and comes from a pretty well-off family but he is really nice too I guess. He’s always saying he wants to start a family with me and stuff like that and the second he gets a chance he wants to marry me. I guess it’s anything to get out of this hell hole. Never mind I suppose, I’ll be out of here soon enough. Danielle.

May tenth, I am trying to carry on writing; I won’t do it often but never mind. I thought my life could get no worse but now we’ve just been told Stacy’s sister has died. Just like that, no idea what caused it but apparently she’s been ill for a while. I’m not upset because I didn’t know her but Stacy’s hardly been out of her room and Dad has been slaving over making her happy. He always used to slave to make me happy, but since she came along he’s been fussing over her like a lost puppy. I hate it. He comes home with little gifts for her and nothing for me saying that he didn’t have enough money to get me anything after he spent so much on his beloved Stacy. It makes me want to puke seriously. I have to break them up before they get married or something disgusting like that. I miss my Mum; she died when I was eleven. I don’t remember her much now, but she had brown hair like me and green eyes like me. Apparently, Dad used to say I looked like her, now we don’t really talk without arguing. Now, he calls me a typical selfish teen. No, I’m a grieving teen that lost her Mum. He’s wrong to think I’ve recovered just because he has. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about her. She was his everything and he knew her for so much longer than me which isn’t fair because I wanted to know her more. Oh God, Dad’s home, probably laden with gifts for the lovely Stacy. Urgh. Danielle.

June seventeenth, I’m thinking of writing in here maybe once or twice a month, depending on my mood but right now I am actually happy. Which makes a change but even still, who cares anyway? Dad and Stacy have gone for a weekend away staying in some hotel place. I refused point blank to come because I didn’t want to have to put up with them and double plus I get the house to myself with Richard. Since I got with Richard all my mates ditched me, they probably think I’ve turned into an alcohol obsessed, knocked up kind of person. Well I haven’t. Okay, I’m not addicted to alcohol but I like it and I have got drunk before but I’m most defiantly not knocked up. Richard thinks it’s unfair but I’ve told him not yet because I’m not wasting my life for some kid. Also, I don’t want to lose my figure (size 10 and going down!). I literally hardly eaten anything since Mum died. Dad said it’s unhealthy but I don’t care, it’s something I can control I suppose. I usually skip school too because Stacy works seven till five and Dad works eight till five. Which means, I leave for school, double back through the ally way, jump over the fence into the fields and cut through there. Wait about half an hour maybe have a cigarette or something, then crawl through a gap in the bushes which leads to our garden and go into the back door. Easy. I hope Dad or Stacy don’t see this diary, I’ll be dead! Danielle.

I read pages and pages, Jake taking over when I became too emotional to read on. Mum’s Mum died when she was eleven. My Mum died when I was eight. I felt hot and shaky. Jake took over but his voice was foggy in my mind.

July twenty first, I hate Stacy.

She skipped school.

She has sold a load of my stuff...

She was anorexic.

And Dad was okay with it...

She smoked.

I was fuming with him; I wanted to hit him so badly...

She was violent.

But obviously I couldn’t. Why did he agree with that tramp?

She lost her Mum when she was young.

And even worse.

Was I like her?

They are getting married!

“STOP!” I yelled at Jake, “Stop, stop, STOP!” I shrieked.

“Woah, calm down, it’s okay, I’ve stopped see?” He said smoothly putting the book down.

“Just stop...” My voice shook as tried to get my words out. I ran to my wardrobe and flung open the doors. I had no idea what I was doing but I wanted to get his words out of my head.

She skipped school.

I pressed my hands against my ears, trying to block the constant buzzing out of my head. I never really went to school.

She was anorexic.

“Chantelle, are you okay?” Jake appeared round the door. I hardly ate anything.

She smoked.

I pressed my back against the wall and sank to the floor. I tried smoking at the foster home.

She was violent.

I rested my head on my knees and sobbed. I remember hitting Father.

She lost her Mum when she was young.

I bit my jumped sleeve to stop myself from crying out. I lost my Mum.

 Jake came and sat over next to me and put his arm round my shoulders. I leaned into him and sobbed. I was like the living version of her. Was I going to turn into her? I asked Jake out loud and he sounded shocked,

 “Of course not! You have Kate and Joe and me, you are not like her, you are better than that” I sniffed.

“I don’t want to read any more yet” I decided. Jake nodded and pulled me closer.

A week or so had passed and I sat on my bed with Mum’s diary in my hands again. Jake wasn’t there this time, I was going to face them alone. Slowly I opened it in the place that we left off last time and began again.

They are getting married! He proposed to her on the weekend away in the hotel. I’m glad I didn’t go but I just can’t believe it. He is re-marrying. She is trying to take Mum’s place I just know she is. She won’t succeed though; I am not going to let this wedding go through. I will do everything I can to make it go wrong. Mark my words. Danielle.

September fourteenth, I was really ill on and off last month. Dad says it’s because I’m eating less than before but I told him I’d rather starve than have him marry that witch. I hate her so much; if my own death doesn’t stop them from marrying then I don’t know what will. They are going away again, I don’t even want to know when but I know it’s for a week this time. I wish it was longer, much, much longer. I can’t wait to move out, I might go live with Richard, he has a flat with two bedrooms and he said I could stay over anytime anyway. I just don’t want him to get the wrong idea... Dad’s calling me, he says that him and Stacy are going out for dinner. He didn’t even bother asking me if I wanted to come, he just said they won’t be back till midnight. That’s good, that means I can go round to Holly’s house, she is throwing a party, hopefully I’ll get drunk again! Danielle.

November fifth, bonfire night. How exciting. Not. I have so many better things to do with my life than watch people staring at some colours in the sky. I did get drunk at that party, at eleven forty-five when the party was hardly even beginning I had to leg it out and climb up through my bedroom window. I don’t even know if they checked up on me, I was out cold. They didn’t even bother to ask why I was dressed up and had grass stains over my clothes. They hardly speak to me actually, it’s better that way. Then at least we don’t have so many arguments. I’m still really ill and tired. I’ve been on my own too, Dad and Stacy are away again, they are out so much I might as well live on my own anyway. Then I wouldn’t have anyone nagging at me to eat and trying to get me to see a doctor. I’m not sick, I’m just not hungry and I hate Stacy. Is that not a good enough reason to lock myself away? Danielle.

December twenty fifth. Yes, Christmas day. Dad got Stacy a really expensive necklace and matching earrings. He got me two new notebooks and a baggy hooded jumper. That’s basically it. Now he even forgets about me. I’m his daughter! Well, the notebooks will be useful seeing as this one is pretty full. It’s mostly doodles but I have actually written more than I thought. I will try and write more though, well more often at least. I actually went down and had Christmas dinner. It used to be the time me and Dad prayed for Mum, but this year it was only me. Whilst they began I just sat silently for a moment and thought about her. I miss her so much, we used to chase each other round the house at Christmas, dodging the toys with Dad laughing at us and filming us. I have two pictures that Stacy didn’t throw out. One of Mum laughing and the other of both of us when I was nine. I carried them everywhere with me. All the time just so Stacy never gets her hands on them. At first it broke Dads heart when she got rid of the pictures; it was when I first started hating her too. Since then she just got worse and worse. Never mind that now I guess, they’re not here, so I can do whatever I like until supper tonight. Yes, they’ve gone out again, only for a walk along the sea front though. It’ll give me just enough time to visit Mum’s grave. Merry Christmas. Danielle.

January first, happy new year! I used to say this every year- ‘New year, new me’, but that never worked so this year it’s, ‘hello new year, goodbye Stacy’. For good. My resolutions:
-Get rid of Stacy
-Turn seventeen with a flare (and I mean a big one)
-Move out and live with Richard if Stacy isn’t gone by April
Richard agreed of course, he is so sweet, he is helping me come up with a plan to get rid of Stacy. He suggested putting drugs in her bag, but I’m saving that one for drastic measures. First, I was going to persuade Dad that she was flirting with other men and make him paranoid that she is cheating. Then I’m going to get Richard to...

“Chantelle! Dinner” Kate called up to me.

“Coming” I yelled, I bookmarked the entry and put the books away. Four more left to read. Most of the pages were packed full of doodles and hearts with Richards name in it. I would read more later, I promised myself.

Chapter 18
My first trip to London

The swaying of the train alerted my senses. The loud roaring of the underground train fogged my hearing and swarmed my ears with the sound of buzzing bees. When I looked around I saw so many people. Tall, short, skinny, fat, everyone looked remarkably different. I had never seen so many people crammed in one space before. A young girl, possibly the age of four or five, clutched her mother’s hand. She was dressed in a straight denim skirt with pink stripped tights and yellow socks with pink slip on shoes, and her coat was puffed up and done up to the top. She wore a hat with tassels and purple gloves. I wondered if she had dressed herself. Another man’s head lolled forwards in time with the train and I guessed he was asleep. However, I had no idea how anyone could sleep on something so noisy. As we pulled into the station many people got off and it became quieter. Few people had leaky headphones in and I could hear so many different types of music. Someone was listening to some kind of rap, another was listening to a loud and fast beat song and another was listening to some sort of reggae tune.

A man’s voice on a loudspeaker blared out, “Please mind the gap” and the doors slid closed after an irritating bleeping. It was not a very smooth ride for a first timer on a train and it was very uncomfortable. Everyone else seemed so used to the crush of people that they took no notice. I was fascinated.

A few moments later, after watching a lot more country side whisk away past us, we got off the train.

“Stay close to me” Kate warned as we exited the train station. A cool gust of wind caught on my scarf in attempt to unravel it from my neck. I clung tightly to the ends and shuffled closer to Kate. People bustled around everywhere, all races, shapes and sizes. A large bunch of teenagers of about eighteen sauntered along, taking up most of the path so we were crushed against a wall. They were dressed in elaborate clothing, highly unsuitable for this weather. The girls wobbled on their six-inch heels with their dresses riding up their legs and flesh exposed in all the wrong places. The boys were either hand in hand or had their arms round the girls whilst shouting and cursing at each other. I quickened my pace and kept my head down as they passes. Business men in smart suits complete with ties and scrubbed shoes, strode past; their briefcases swinging by their sides. Pigeons hopped and half heartedly flew from place to place when a foot came anywhere near them. I was in complete awe. I had never seen a place like it before in my entire lifetime. It was not a place I would like to live though. Buildings that appeared to be made entirely of glass touched the sky and loomed over us. A man covered in tattoos which snaked up his arms strode towards us. Instinctively, I shied away from him. Kate gave me a slightly puzzled look but let it go. She nor Joe had never brought up my background but I know they knew. Joe was not allowed to drive me around on my own or could be left home alone with me for long amounts of time for my own comfort. Even talking one to one with male teachers freaked me out slightly, although I was slowly getting used to them.

We rounded a corner onto a large open market. According to the sign we were in Camden Lock market. Colourful stalls with pushy salesmen lined the streets and thrust their products under my nose. This set me on edge again and I sandwiched myself between Kate and Joe. A stand of hundreds of sunglasses caught my eye and I wandered over with Kate to try some on. They were three pounds each. Kate and I posed with them before deciding on a pair with red frames and another bright orange pair studded with diamonds. I put the red pair on and Kate put on a blue rimmed pair. Joe chuckled and refused to buy himself a pair to our greatest disappointment.

We turned a corner and the street was lit up in a ray of glowing lights and colourful objects or all sorts of weird and wonderful creation. It was less crowded round here and we walked freely around. My eyes settled upon a dress shop where hundreds upon hundreds of dresses were neatly lined up on racks of all different colours and patterns. My eyes fell on a dainty navy blue dress with white birds printed randomly over it. It was fifteen pounds and I picked up the one in my size asking Kate is I could try it on. She agreed and I slipped into the changing room. A full length mirror hung on the wall but I ignored my reflection as I removed my clothing. My legs were less scarred now, my stomach being the worst and I hated looking at it. The dress fitted perfectly and I showed Kate and Joe briefly before slipping back into my skinny jeans and white top three quarter length sleeves on. The salesman bagged up the dress in exchange for my money which he zipped tightly into the bag wrapped around his waist.

Kate, Joe and I carried on walking around and I concluded that I had never seen any place like it.

It was another hour until we came back to the bustling London streets.

“We are going to get the Northern Line to Embankment and then change to the District Line to South Kensington. Sound okay?” Joe asked. I nodded clueless as to where we were going and what the difference between a Northern Line and District Line was but I followed him back down the crowded steps to the musty smelling station. We hopped onto the train just before the doors bleeped close. We sighed and sat down on the only spare seats.

“So where are we going exactly?” I asked.

“The Natural History Museum” Kate answered.

“Oh, umm, what’s that?” I questioned. I had never heard of this place before.

“It is a museum with everything to do with our history in it. It’s a fascinating place, you will love it” Joe nodded his head in encouragement. It sounded pretty cool. I had no idea anything about England seeing as I had hardly learned anything at school. This time I was more prepared for the journey and I sat back to brace myself. I glanced at the map of the London underground and wondered how on earth anyone managed to get their way around this place without being lost.

“How many stops until we have to change?” I asked.

“Eight” Joe replied after counting the dots on the map.

“Oh, is that a long wait?” I asked and Joe shook his head. I busied myself looking for South Kensington on the map. There were so many places. I shook my head in disbelief. How could all these places fit in one city?

“Next stop Tottenham Court Road” The female voice operating system said. I counted the dots left. Only three. I had hardly noticed the other stops.

I watched the endless countryside fly by with houses and buildings dotted around. I had no idea there was so much to the world. I knew it was big, but if this was big, I had no idea how big the rest of the world was. It scared me a little. I looked up to the sky and at the clouds. What exactly were clouds? I saw planes fly through them, so they can’t be solid... so what were they? Frustrated, I asked Joe.

“Joe?”

“Yes?” He turned to face me.

“What are clouds?” I asked feeling a little stupid. Sixteen year olds should know what clouds were.

“They are tiny droplets of condensed water... why do you ask?”

“Oh, I don’t know what that is. I just wondered because I have no idea what anything is... like where are the stars?”

“In space” Joe replied.

“What is space?” I asked, proving my point. I honestly had no idea, the only thing I knew about space was that came out at night and made the sky black.

Joe sighed for a moment, and then furrowed his brow, “I will teach you everything I know about science, all the useful things, about our world instead of just what your tutor will tell you and other things like that, how does that sound?” I looked and Joe for a moment then smiled and I nodded.

“Yes, yes please, that would be amazing Joe” I only had a few weeks of year eleven left, I hadn’t joined in time to do any exams but the school had advised a tutor over the holidays to help boost my grades. I was taking a year out, so I could try and learn as much as possible then take a basic test to see if my grades improved. Joe was going to look into a tutor for me as well as what he was going to do when the holidays began.

“Next stop South Kensington” The voice burbled on and Joe got my attention.

“Get up; we are getting off here, stay close” Joe warned. I complied and linked my arm through his. I felt him smile down at me but I carried on looking straight ahead at the opening doors. Three... two... one...

I counted down in my head as the doors slid open and a swarm of people surged and crammed to get off the train. Other bodies including ours pushed back to get out and soon we were out the swarm and jostle of bodies and back to the streets.

“Come on, this way” Joe mumbled and Kate flicked her scarf around her neck.

“Magazine, dear?” A man thrust a dirty hand holding one under my nose, “It’s free” He cackled. I shook my head and pressed on. A few moments later we walked passed a homeless man who was jingling a money box at people with a sign that read, ‘Help me, I am starving and have no place to go, the kindness of your hearts are the only thing keeping me alive’. Instantly I felt bad for him and looked at Kate for answers.

“Why is he homeless?” She looked sadly at me.

“I don’t know, it could be a number of reasons but that doesn’t matter, he may not even be homeless” I looked shocked at her.

“Why would he fake being homeless?” I asked astounded.

“For money, many people on the streets could have some form of drinking problem or something of the sort” I winced at these words but she didn’t see. We turned again into another train station and waited patiently for the train.

Soon we were speeding underground through pitch blackness. I closed my eyes, feeling the train move beneath me and rock me from side to side with the occasional clicking and crashing sound as it rushed through the tunnel. It was oddly calming; it drowned out all the other thoughts in my head. My mind felt at peace.

“And over here is another exhibition” Joe waved over to the right and I followed him with Kate just behind me. I sighed, it was amazing here. There were so many fascinating things about our past that I had no idea about. It was absolutely amazing. I took many pictures and I decided one day I would show Amy them. We walked around for about two hours and when we got outside the sun was beating down warmly on us. We decided to grab some sandwiches and sit on a park bench for a moment.

“Right so we need to get the train back to Embankment and then change to the Northern Line to Waterloo” Kate concluded and took a bite of her sandwich.

“What is at Waterloo?” I asked. Who would name a place Waterloo? It sounded funny...

“Ahh” Joe tapped his nose, “You’ll see” He stood up and threw his wrapper in the bin. I did the same and so did Kate. Kate squeezed my shoulder and smiled at me as we walked back to the station for the fourth time today and held onto the poles to steady ourselves because there were no free seats. The first jolt took me by surprise but after a few moments I got the hang of keeping my balance. Other men were standing without holding anything and looking at their phones. I tried to stand without holding the pole but almost fell over so I gripped it tightly the rest of the way.

“Here we are, this is the London Eye” I looked up at the one hundred and thirty five metre high wheel. I gasped.

“Are we going on that?” I breathed. Joe and Kate nodded, “Wow...” was all I could say.

“Come on” Kate pulled me gently towards the entry and we queued up. When we were at the front Joe handed over a wodge of cash which looked at least over seventy of eighty pounds.

“How much is this?” I asked.

“About forty pounds an adult” Okay, I did the maths in my head, one hundred and twenty pounds. I had never had that much money in my life let alone see someone pay for a ride on a gigantic wheel with that amount.

I sat in between Kate and Joe. The ride started to turn round and I saw everything to the horizon. London was amazing.

“What is that clock over there?” I pointed opposite the London Eye.

“That, is Big Ben”

“That’s what?” I asked.

“Big Ben, it’s a huge tower. Although the bell inside is called the Great Bell” Joe explained.

“Oh” Was all I could say. The view was stunning. I leaned into Kate.

“Thank you” Was all I could say, “Thank you so, so much” So many emotions filled me up. I wanted to laugh and cry but I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t do a single thing.

 Chapter 19
[From Amy’s eyes]

Slowly, I looked over to where my foster Mum was standing. She smiled at me and nodded encouragement. This was the ninth letter I had sent to Chantelle since we were separated, but she hadn’t replied to any of them. We were in Italy. It was my first ever holiday abroad and we were going for three weeks in the summer holidays. It was baking and I wished so badly Chantelle could be here with me. We were sitting in our hotel, Jade, my foster Mum was straightening her hair whilst David, my Foster Dad, packed some sandwiches to take to the beach. I wore a white bikini under a short, flowing, white, strapless dress. It was new and Jade had bought it for me especially for the holiday because I didn’t have many holiday clothes. I finished the letter and before sealing the envelope I added a picture of me standing on the beach, tanned after our first week here. Jade was standing behind me laughing and tickling me. I smiled as I slid the picture in next to the letter; it had been developed out here so I could send it to her.

I walked over to Jade and handed her the letter she smiled and said, ‘thank you, I will send this off this afternoon if we can find somewhere to send it’ I signed, thank you, back to her.

“We are going to the beach instead of the pool; we thought we could get some pizza in the little restaurant next to it. It is that okay?” I clapped once for yes. It was the yes no system we had developed. Clap once for yes, and twice for no. Simple.

“Where did you put the beach towels, Jade?” David called.

“They should be in the case” Jade replied then turned to me, “I bet her hasn’t looked properly”, I clapped in recognition of what she said. They were funny.

“Found them!” David yelled and walked whilst dancing with the towels on his head, his arms flailing, back into our room.

“Where were they?” Jade asked.

“In the...” He mumbled the last word so we couldn’t hear.

“Where sorry? I didn’t quite catch that” Jade grinned.

“In the cases where you said they were in the first place!” David exclaimed. We all laughed but mine came out as silent as usual.

“Come on, grab those bags please Amy, let’s go!” Jade ran to the door and tapped her foot, pretended to look at her watch and rolled her eyes at us two slowly trying to work out what happened in the past ten seconds.

 

“I’m going to set up the camp here” David dumped his bags on the sand.

“Watch out, you’ll get sand in them!” Jade scolded. I laughed. Again, silently. I placed mine down carefully and unzipped it, trying to locate my towel, sun cream and book. Jade and David left me to sort out my things whilst they did the rest. I fetched two stones to weigh the edges down and plopped myself in the centre. Uncapping the bottle or lotion, I squeezed some into the palm of my hands then rubbed it over my body so I wouldn’t burn over my tan. Casually I laid down on my front and flicked the shades that were on the top of my head, over my eyes, picked up the book and zoned the world out.

I was there. In the midst of the battle. Horses rushing past me. I saddled up and galloped forward with the rest of the troops. Leading the battle into full swing. Arrows were fired over head. A spear was tossed into my hands. I charged. Nothing could stop us, we were unbeatable...

“Amy?” Jades voice snapped me out of my fantasy world. Sadly, I looked round, and nodded my closed fist, “Would you like to come for a swim in the sea?” I nodded again with my fist. I pulled myself up and pulled off my dress to reveal just my bikini. When Jade had taken me to the doctors for a check up he had deemed me healthy, apart from the fact I had to put more weight on. Which, with David in the house, was easy enough to do. He was a chef, he knew every recipe under the sun. He could cook healthy dishes, vegetarian dishes, starters, meat and fish dishes but by far his best were deserts. If ever he came up with a new recipe, I was the first person to try it. I dabbed some more lotion on my face then sprinted after Jade. The school I was at were huge on sports so I was encouraged to join as many clubs as possible. I did swimming twice a week after school for an hour, then I was being trialled for the netball team next year and according to our coach I had a natural flair for rounders and athletics so I did training every now and then.

The crystal clear water was freezing when I got to it, but it was like a blessing on my baking skin. I dived under and reappeared a couple of metres from where I submerged. The water was waist high for a long way out so we could swim in the shallow parts without going out of our depth. I thought back to the first week of our holiday. We had been to see some of the Coliseums and the leaning tower of Pisa. I had so many pictures already. I would have to show Chantelle one day.

We messed about in the water for about half an hour when Jade decided to go back to her towel. I sat in the surf. Smiling when the waves tickled my feet. Suddenly I felt someone sit next to me. I looked up, it was a boy. Possibly about my age. They met my gaze I looked back, embarrassed.

“Ciao, come stai bella?” He asked me. Well, I thought it was a question, I had no idea what he was saying apart from ‘ciao’ which was ‘hello’. I looked at him and shrugged my shoulders. He looked confused. How could I explain to him I wasn’t Italian? I dragged my fingers through the sand when I had an idea. I beckoned him to follow me away from the surf but where the water was still damp.

I am from England. I wrote in the sand, hoping he would understand it. Thankfully he did and his face lit up.

“You are English?” His speech was broken and I preferred it when he spoke Italian but at least this was I understood it. When I nodded he grinned, then after a moment asked, “How are you?” I wrote in the sand, Great thank you, how are you? He looked confused at me, “Why do you not speak? You must write what you have to say?” I had wondered in the back of my mind when he would ask me that so I wrote, I do not know how to speak. His face puzzled and frowned over my words but eventually when it clicked in his mind what I meant. I cocked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow as if asking me why. I shrugged my shoulders and wrote, It does not matter. He accepted this and laid back on the sand, I watched him stretch then he sat up again looking thoughtfully at me. His hair flopped a little over his eyes and was a dark brown colour, his skin was tanned a rich brown and his eyes sparkled a deep chocolate brown. His body was tight and muscular, he wore no shirt, just swimming shorts that reached his knees. I guessed he was taller than me.

“You are... come faccio a dirlo?” His mind searched for the correct word to finish off the sentence, “Beautiful? Is that okay?” He asked me, unsure as to whether he got it right, “Umm, bella? Beautiful? It is the same word?” I nodded and blushed, that was the limit to my Italian. He really thought I was beautiful?

Grazie. I wrote. He grinned from ear to ear if it was ever possible. I smiled too, his smile was infectious and his face was too cute not to smile at.

“Ti voglio tanto bene” He blushed.

I do not understand.  I wrote. He paused for a moment. An idea came to his mind and his face lit up again. He pointed to himself, then to me and drew a heart in the sand. He blushed even harder and looked down. I leant over and drew a heart next to his. He grinned and looked at me.

“Friends?” I nodded, “Will you come to swim with me?” I nodded again and he stood up, brushed the sand from his behind then offered his hand to me. I took it and he pulled me up but didn’t let go and ran with me to the sea. I tried to hesitate but he pulled me in to the freezing sea. If I could have screamed I would have but no sound came out as usual. He yelled and splashed around for a moment before letting go of my hand and diving under the surf. I followed him under and we emerged a few moments later grinning. He flicked his hair out of his eyes and water dripped off his tanned skin.

“Do you swim well?” He asked. I shook my hand side to side palm down, “Can you race?” He asked. I nodded. He held up three fingers, “Tre”, two fingers, “Due”, one finger, “Uno”; we dived under and began racing front crawl until we both were exhausted.

“Okay, you win” He held up his hands to me. I was several metres in front of him, “You are a better swimmer than you say you are” He said swimming over to me. I signed thank you then realised he didn’t know what I was saying. I took his hand and pulled him towards the beach again. I wrote, thank you, in the sand and then signed it to show him what it meant.

“Oh” He said then signed it himself. I nodded, “Okay” He said.

Do you want to know more? I wrote. He nodded. I thought for a moment then held out my fist and shook it up and down then wrote, yes. Then I swiped my open hand across as though I was chopping something down sideways then wrote, no. He copied and I put my thumbs up.

I taught him more over the next hour then ran to get lunch with Jade and David.

“Who was that boy, Amy?” I paused for a moment; I didn’t actually know his name. I do not know his name, I signed, but he is very nice, “Well that is good then, making friends with the locals” David said, taking a bite of his sandwich.

“How is his English?” Jade asked. So-so. I signed with my palm face down. She nodded and handed me my sandwiches. I ate quickly and signed; can I go back and see the boy again?

“Yes of course you can, be safe” Jade waved me off and I waved back. He was lying down on the sand, his hands behind his head and torso stretched out. I tapped his shoulder and lay down next to him, shielding my eyes from the sun.

“How did you find your lunch?” He asked and I sat up, fine thank you. He leant up to read it then laughed and lay back down.

I lost track of how long we lay there, talking and writing to each other. He told me about his family and I told him about Chantelle and how much I missed her. It was hard to have a conversation with him with his broken English and me having to write everything down but it was okay.

The sun was setting when Jade called me saying we were going to go out to a restaurant opposite the beach. Sadly I went over and Jade looked at me.

“Do you want to stay for a bit longer?” I nodded, “Okay, join us in half an hour, okay? We will be able to see you from the window of the restaurant so if you need us just wave and come over, okay?” I nodded and signed thank you.

The boy beamed when I sat next to him again.

“The sun is pretty is it not?” He said. I nodded, it was beautiful. The sky was a mixture of red, blue, orange, yellow and pink. We sat there watching the sun go down. I looked at his watch and stood up, I had to go.

“Wait” He said. He pulled a pen out of his pocket and wrote a mobile number on my hand, “Call me”. He winked then watched me walk away. He was so sweet. I didn’t want this holiday to end.