Clara’s Past
It was a sunny day but it didn’t feel sunny to Clara as she stared down at the paper infront of her.
I sat there trying to stifle a yawn, my mind well away in the distance when suddenly the teachers voice came through.
“Is my lesson that boring, sorry to be keeping you awake”.
“No I’ve just not been sleeping well, sorry” I answered, not really caring. I WAS tired as I’d been trying to work out how to tell my mum about the homework I had to do and how to tell the teacher why I couldn’t do it. I wasn’t one to let people down.
She was in her English class and the teacher had just given them some homework to do. Her heart sank as she absorbed what was infront of her. The homework was to write up her family tree. Dread filled her. With a sigh she put it into her bag.
How do you do about a family tree when your adopted and don’t really know anything?
When she got home she was quieter than normal and looked a bit pale.
“What’s the matter sweetheart?” Asked her mum Alison. Clara put her bag down by the dining table and quietly pulled out her homework and showed it to her.
“Oh……okay” is all her mum said. She sat down next to Clara and examined the work before turning gently to her.
“This is going to be difficult, and I will send a letter to your teacher explaining why - don’t worry. I’ll get out some of your information for you to look over again and we will do this together”.
Shaking her head slightly her mum rose up and went into the other room to fetch the big, brown envelope containing most of Clara’s past.
Clara was adopted and had found out a year ago. Alison had found it hard to keep it a secret and Clara had kept asking certain questions that she couldn’t answer. Eventually when she knew she was sensible and old enough to handle it her mum had sat down with her at the dining table. On it was a big, brown envelope with important documents inside.
Alison had let her go through it at her own pace, reading just little bits at a time and had let her ask any questions or voice her opinion on what she had read each time. Each time Alison had asked her if there was anything she was unsure of before squeezing her shoulder and giving Clara some space.
It was a lot to take in but she was glad she had done it. Things made more sense and it showed Clara Alison thought she was mature enough for her to trust her with everything.
Strangely enough it hadn’t really bothered Clara too much. Yes she was bitter and what she had read made her never want to meet or speak to her birth parents (if that’s what you could call them) as long as she lived. So far as she was concerned her adopted parents WERE her parents, her blood and they deserved to be known as that. THEY were her family and a close one at that.
I call her mum because she’s always deserved that title.
She did everything for me, taught me all I know, showed me places not many kids have ever seen and threw all that was also my friend. Even though she had hard times at work she’s always put me first, she would even fall asleep at the side of my bed reading me a story. That’s a mum.
Not one who was pregnant with me for 9 months, then gave birth and didn’t want me so would neglect me. Yes it was documented what she did. Even wrote me a letter telling me that she was sorry but she never wanted to be pregnant and that she was too scared to get rid of me, and that I would be better with a family who could and would give me the world and love unlike her.
My mum was always worried that I would want to find her and then like her so much that I would leave to live with her. That I could never understand….well in a way I could but no matter how many times I told her that “I would never leave you. She abandoned me, she never wanted me - you did. YOU are my mum, not her and she never will be. I don’t want to find her” she still didn’t fully believe. That had hurt.
Clara hadn’t told her friends or any teachers which made it more awkward.
So, going back to the family tree she had to write you can see why it was hard for her. She wrote down about her adopted parents family the best she could - it got pretty confusing in parts and took it to school along with the letter.
Her teacher called her over with a sympathetic look on her face and had apologised to her.
Although people meant well this is all Clara was used to……sympathy and she hated it. The shake of the head, watery eyes and sadness when someone found out and the “oh sweetheart, how terrible for you” comments among others.
Clara had been through a lot at a very young age and it had left her traumatised.
She had been taken away from her biological parents by Social Services afew times due to her mum neglecting her, her dad hitting her and she had been locked in a dark, small closet when she had cried and left in there for hours aswell as being constantly ignored or shouted at.
She had never been wanted and was told that numerous times by them. It wasn’t her fault she cried, she was a baby after all. This carried on and by the time she was 5 years old she had been in various foster homes until she had finally found her final home.
I didn’t really remember the homes I was passed around. Probably a good job as I never seemed to fit in anywhere. A couple of memories would come and go but mostly it was just blank.
God, the trauma I had been through and yet Alison still stood strong by me. I wished if I ever had kids I could make her proud and be a mum just like her.
Her now official parents had had years of her hiding away from people, being scared and hyperventilating when other children came up behind her or crowded her aswell as getting her to eat properly. They were very patient with her and tried to understand the best they could but it was very hard for them too.
By the time she was 8 she was more relaxed around people, had gained weight nicely and she already had a best friend who lived near her who she played with near enough every day.
She had even kept her friend when they went to separate secondary schools, Clara couldn’t have been happier. She was still cautious when meeting new people and was shy at her new school. She had however made a small circle of great friends which she preferred anyway to being popular, surrounded by loads of people and being fake.
“Tell me a secret. A big one that no one else knows” said Kiera later on when we were sat on the swings, lazily making an effort,
Hmmmmm, well I do have one BIG secret. Do I tell her…….I have known her for years and she’s never betrayed my trust. She is my best and closest friend after all. Sod it!
“Okay. But you can’t tell anyone, I’m serious Kiera.” Kiera shook her head, eyes lit up with wonder and excitement.
Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly I said “I……”
Think Clara think…..
At night she read books whilst snuggled up in bed about shifters and vampires. How powerful and dominant they all seemed and a part of her wanted that. The thought of that should have terrified her after what she had been through but it didn’t.
She liked the idea of loosing control of herself and the situation but in a good way, yet she found it hard to let go of control. She really wanted to but she was too stubborn.
Mmmm Maybe that’s abit too much information to give to your close friend. Yeah I’ve know her 12 years but still.
Time to change the subject.
“Do you want to do a fundraiser with me?” I asked. Sceptical she looked at me “like what?” She asked slowly.
“Well….” Yep she’s definitely going to think I’ve lost the plot now “ I was thinking we could hold a show on that big field. You know ask friends or neighbours to make things to sell like bracelets, cakes, art etc and we could buy some cheap bunting online or from the £1 shop”.
The idea was that the stalls would be homemade things to sell from people she knew or even from smaller shops in town, and there would be decorations around the park.
“We could invite everyone we know with dogs and have a dog show! Make up obstacles and have silly little classes, everyone loves those!! Plus the most IMPORTANT event of all…..our own horse show.”
Ok I’m getting way too excited for something that is never going to happen.
“A horse show? We don’t even own a horse.”
“Yes I know! We could ask the local stables if they would be willing to loan us a few horses for half the day and we could do some shows - which they would participate in too…like best in show, racing and jumping. Ooooooh we could also do pony rides!!!!”
“We could get some of our friends who can ride and have our own team or we could compete against each other! We could be called the…..wait for it……THUNDERBOLTS!” I have put waaaaay to much thought into this. “The U would be a horse shoe and the L would be a thunder bolt! It would look awesome!!!!!!!”
First she would have to ask the local council to allow the various stalls and the ponies on the park of course. She didn’t know how she would cover the cost of it all. Maybe it could be a local community show and people would pitch in, after all everyone knew each other and donated to things.
There was a long silence where she just stared at me. I must have looked crazy: all wide eyed, grinning like a Cheshire cat that was high and clapping my hands infront of my chest like a proud kid *urgh! eye roll* I swear I heard crickets and saw a tumble weed go past. Definitely getting embarrassed now.
“Mate. I love you and like your enthusiasm but what the hell?????”. “Like where would we get the money, who would come and why on Earth would anyone want to do that?” Ouch! Ok, bubble popped.
I just shrugged, “ok, fine, it was just an idea. Sorry if I’m bored and want to do something different.”
Clara had always been different and wanted to do things ‘out of the norm’. She never wanted to just fit in and be like a sheep.
Even throughout secondary school Clara never wore makeup apart from a little bit of lipstick on her parents birthday meals. Neither did she like to dress up glamourous to go out with her friends - not that they were like that, well one was but Tracey had accepted Clara the way she was.
She hated clothes shopping and definitely wasn’t a girly girl, she was more like a tomboy. She preferred animals, getting dirty and climbing trees to sit back in whilst listening to music than make up and partying.
That’s why she was never popular with guys. They were always interested in the ‘pretty’ girls who wouldn’t go anywhere without make up, had big boobs and a flirty attitude.
She had liked a guy when she was new at the school and had always wanted to say something but was too shy and self conscious. As it was he had had a great laugh at her when he’d asked her out infront of his friends, then pretended to be offended when she’d said no, he then made cruel jokes at her before walking off sniggering.
She did like another guy Rich and he seemed to like her but she didn’t know now if he was serious or just messing with her. They were in the last year of school when he told her so it could have been a joke. She liked his attention on her but he was also her friend. Well, not a best friend but a hot friend none the less.
She had told one of her best friends who didn’t turn out to be helpful at all. Tracey had simply stated “if he’s cute then go for it, doesn’t matter if he’s your friend”. Errrr yes it does!! What happens if we got together and then we have a nasty split up, it would get awkward and I would loose my friend.
To Tracey guys were just guys. All they wanted was a good time or someone pretty to show off. She claimed to hate guys yet deliberately wore clothes that were too small for her so she could show off her ample chest. She was blonde, tall, had blue eyes and breasts that were easily a 38GG so what did she know…..right?
Clara wasn’t that bothered by guys if she was being honest. Throughout school she never wanted to be popular and couldn’t care less about a boyfriend, she wasn’t unpopular though. She was perfectly happy with her small group of friends, friends she could actually class as her proper friends.
She had been an innocent girl.
She had always been a kind and caring person and helped people without being asked or wanting anything in return. Someone who would do anything for anybody but wasn’t a push over. She could say no if she wanted to.
Clara had never wanted a lot in life. She was happy and grateful with what she had. Looking after her nana at a young age had taught her what was really important which was health and family.
However, there was one thing she asked for at Christmas and birthdays every single year growing up.
She dreamed of owning her own pony. A certain pony. He was sweet and full of character with a lovely, smooth gait. She’d even made a plan.
She would make his stable in their double garage using bricks, then get a rubber matting and buy the straw/hay from the local farmer. She would sell his poo to all her mums friends and neighbours as they were big gardeners and just swill away the wee down the drain.
He could graze on their gardens so they didn’t have to mow them and she would let him finish grazing and excercising at their local park which was just over the road. Both she and Kiera would look after him on a rota. Her plan was foolproof or so she thought!
She adored looking through horse catalogues and loved the western style. She could see herself going round at Christmas on horseback in all the red Christmas gear with white fuzz around the horses legs and across its back, and sleeves with jingle bells on the bridle and reins.
Both her and the pony would wear santas hats (hers over her helmet of course) and they would take presents to her neighbours in a big sack. She thought it was marvellous!!!
How innocent and naive she had been.
She had mentioned her idea to some of her friends who had mocked her. She couldn’t understand why they didn’t think it was a good idea and it had hurt her feelings. Why couldn’t life go back to how it was when she was little? So innocent and carefree. Not judged over simple things and full of misery.
Clara missed her grandparents terribly, and found herself with her parents parked opposite their old house staring through the car window reminiscing about the past.
She had always loved that house and it had broke her heart to loose it. It was such a cosy place with wonderful memories.
She remembered how she would sit on the floor playing cards or a game that had a dome where you pressed down and a dice would roll inside it. You would then move plastic, coloured pegs around the board until you got back to your start point - abit like ludo. She would do this whilst waiting for the fire to warm up.
It was an old stand up one that had 5 blocks across which took ages to warm up one by one, then it had to heat up all the way to the top which took forever!! Meanwhile her grandparents would have done the dishes and be sat waiting on their comfy sofa. Once the fire had heated up they turned on the tv.
It was old with a black knob that had to be pressed in and there was a couple of buttons above it. Clara hated having to stand and keep pressing it to get the right channel. You had to wait sometimes for the picture to show as it would look like snow to start off with. If you went too fast you would go past it and have to start all over again, repeatedly clicking the button through all the channels again to get back to it as there was no back button.
Then she would sometimes be the tvs assistant holding the aerial and moving about with it until they got a clear picture. Once that was done she would go over and snuggle into them and watch some black and white show she didn’t understand. That didn’t matter though. Even though she was young she enjoyed every minute of it and she was grateful for what she had with them.
She remembered how her parents had desperately tried to save up to buy this house. Even Clara had saved up her pocket money and what little she got from her little Saturday job to try and help them, but it was all in vain and eventually they had to sell it.
Although they had sold it to a lovely couple Clara longed for it to be looked after and loved like they had, and that it was still in good hands. They would go by occasionally just to check.
The house still hadn’t changed.
It was at the end of a row of detached houses and had a long, gravelled path which led from the main road, down past the house and walled garden to a garage port that was shared by the last three houses.
A long wall separated them from Aubrey and it curved up and down like a snake. It had darker, curved, smooth bricks along the top. Clara loved sitting over it whilst chatting for hours to the friendly neighbour, or pretending to be riding on a dolphin in the sea.
The gravel path then changed to a narrow, dirt path which led to a wall with a little, brown gate in it. A secret garden! How she longed to see what was on the other side. Her grandparents had said they would show her one day. She was always a good girl but had tried super hard just to get a peek inside.
Then one day her wish had came true. She remembered it like it was yesterday.
It was a sunny day with a light breeze. Her grandad took her hand and led her down the path. He held out a huge key, put it in the lock and turned to her with a big, warm smile on his face.
She held her breath not wanting to break the special moment! He held her hand and together they unlocked and opened the gate. She stepped inside and gasped as she looked around her!
It was amazing.
It was walled off on two sides. To the left there was a bench near the corner with beautiful roses that had climbed up the wall and leaned across to create a half arch shape above it.
It had been her nanas favourite spot in the garden and she used to frequently sit and read there, it was a very special area to him.
Her grandad Mr Caudswell was a veteran, he hated that surname as he said it made him sound like a snobby major.
He had met his wife in a cafe when he was in the army. Before he got shipped off they said that when he got back they would go on a date, which they did. Then when he got called out again, he said if he got back this time he would propose. They had many years of happiness from young sweethearts to growing old together.
Clara always thought he meant he was a veterinarian, just mispronounced it as he was such a caring, calm but fun person. How shocked she was to find out he used to be in the war.
She could see him as a vet in a little clinic or in his own home.
Mrs Phosbey would bring her fat, fluffy cat called Fluffykins (or Fluffy for short) in to see him for her check ups or a good gossip, not that her grandad would ever gossip about anyone.
She was a nosy woman, who always wore a long, thick red coat and a knitted, brimmed, blue bonnet.
Then there was Mr Cordwell. He was straight backed, had a big, pointed nose and a moustache. He wore a black suit with shoes and had a dark brown and tan dachshund called David which he walked like he was in crufts.
Anyway back to the garden.
Further down was a wheelbarrow and plant pots stacked up. Going across in the middle was a handmade wooden bird bath with a little bird carved onto it and a bird house near it.
Then in the right corner was his greenhouse which was full of things he was growing like herbs, elderberries and tomatoes. Next to it and going up the garden was his allotment. He grew his own vegetables and what fruit he could.
He made his own jam and wine from what he produced and would serve them at Christmas and other special occasions like milestone birthdays and anniversaries. He had handmade the planters in his allotment aswell as the bench that he had gifted to his wife one anniversary. It has roses and intricate designs carved into it. He was a very skilled man who could just about turn his hand to anything.
To top it all off there was a little stream that ran the whole length of the driveway and along past the garden. It separated him from the bottom of the gardens on the other side.
It was so relaxing yet somehow felt private.
He made her promise she would only come down if he was with her and she did. Little did she know that she would only be able to go there once more.
One night soon after, the phone rang whilst she was in bed. Her dad had had to leave in a hurry in the middle of the night.
Her mum was a full time teacher and couldn’t leave her alone. Her dad worked nights but luckily it was the one night he had off.
The next morning both Clara and her mum were up and eating breakfast. She told her daughter that they were going to her grandads house once they had finished. Her mum had already packed some spare clothes for her dad and done a lunch for everyone. When her mum had done that Clara didn’t know.
There had been a storm in the night which somehow Clara had slept through and it had caused damage to her grandparents property.
When they arrived Alison told Clara to take the bag and put it in the kitchen. She placed the dish which was covered over with foil onto the work surface and went outside.
There was small branches and leaves over the gravel path and the secret garden gate was open. When she went inside she couldn’t believe her eyes.
The storm had made a tree fall down on the other side of the stream, crushing the greenhouse along with the bird bath and table. It had blocked the water which had caused it to flood the lower half of the garden. It had flooded the bottom of a couple of gardens opposite but Clara didn’t care about that. All she cared about was the devastation on her grandads face.
The allotment was gone, the roses bashed and ruined - his beloved garden destroyed.
Her dad was ontop of the fallen tree soaked to the bone, looking exhausted whilst sawing off bits of branches. Her mum was helping move broken bits and pieces into a pile.
Her grandad had been taken ill the following day so her mum had stayed over. She had had to change his bed and clothes 3 times due to him sweating so much. He was shivering with cold although he was running a fever. The next day she called the doctor and he was admitted into hospital with pneumonia. It was bad enough with his blood pressure and diabetes.
For the next week when Clara and her mum weren’t at school or the hospital they were at her grandads house helping clear up the wreckage.
People in the community had rallied round to help in any way they could. There was a builder, mechanic, wood worker and afew handymen. Others were unblocking the stream further up or making teas, coffees and had brought sandwiches and cakes.
He was so well known and respected around his community. He was a hard worker, honest and reliable and would help anyone with anything. The family were touched by the generosity from everyone and were so grateful.
However the worst was still to come.
The past year had been exhausting for her mum and taught Clara a lot. When she was in primary school her nana who she loved to bits had been taken ill and been in hospital.
Every day Clara’s mum used to go and check on her at lunch time when she wasn’t teaching recorders or on dinner duty. Then after school they would both go up to see her. Clara would climb onto the bed and spoon feed her, whilst chatting to her about her day.
She would sing old war songs to the other elderly patients in the ward and do a little dance she had learned to some of them. She loved the old songs especially ‘Lambeth walk’ and ‘we'll meet again’. Sometimes they would even sing along with her and clap.
Occasionally she would read them a little story that she had written. All the patients loved her and would ask “when is that charming little curly haired girl coming in?”.
The staff got to see her that regularly that the nurses even gave her her own little nurses dress and pocket watch to wear. They would let her help them by checking how much water was in the cups which were clearly marked, who had a clip board at the end of their beds, who was awake or not.
Little things but it made her feel important. She didn’t know that the nurses knew all the answers already and that they were keeping her occupied whilst her mum was being updated on her nanas health and the next proceedings.
One day her nana was doing well so they took her down to the cafe to enjoy a cream scone and pot of tea. Little did she know that that was the last time she was going to see her.
You see it was a cancer ward which meant that Clara wouldnt be able to see her nana anymore. Her nanas health was deteriorating fast, and so her mum had stopped Clara from coming to see her as to not distress her. Her nana never came out of the hospital, within 2 months she sadly passed away.
It was why that spot in the garden with the bench was so special to her grandad.
Her grandad had been left on his own. He was never the same when he came out of hospital. He was quiet and seemed sad. Clara knew that her nana had died and that her grandad was missing her, so she did her best to try and cheer him up.
She would call him and come over for sleeps, tell him silly jokes to try and make him laugh and bought him his favourite toffee - worthers originals.
She wanted him to know that’s he still owed him and that he wasn’t alone. Somehow it kept her grandads spirits up and in a way kept him feeling close to the family. He would greet her with open arms and a brave smile, she would beam happily at her grandad but her mum saw through the bravado and knew.
Sadly within 3 months her grandad died. He had medical issues but they all knew it was from a broken heart.
Clara’s world shattered. She had always wore her heart on her sleeve but now she didn’t want to share it with the world.
She never went back to her grandparents house, it hurt too much.
The secret garden was abandoned and so overgrown you couldn’t see the bottom of it. Her parents were ashamed of the state it was in but just didn’t have the time or energy to sort it out so it just got worse.
What with her mum having some time off work due to having an emotional breakdown after loosing bother her parents within a short time, arranging and paying for the funerals, selling the house and with the medical bills from the hospital her dad was working any overtime available to keep them afloat.
Clara knew all this and yet felt abandoned and frustrated. She had no way to let out her grief too so she shut off. Being caring had led to heartbreak. She knew it was totally irrational but she couldn’t help it.
After he had died the family had taken on his dog. She was lovely and just what Clara needed.
Storm was a young border collie. She was soft as a brush with Clara and they had bonded instantly. From then on Storm was hers.
“If you want her then you will have to take responsibility for her. She will need to be fed and looked after” said her parents.
“I will! I will take care of her, please let me keep her.”
Her parents already had another collie but he didn’t like children much so Clara had never been able to stroke him.
She never realised how much she had missed it. Storms fur was so soft. She would lay with her face against her, cuddling her and talking to her affectionately “I love you Storm, so so much. Thankyou for being here with me babygirl. I’ll always be here for you.”
She spent her pocket money on buying her toys and took her out for a walk every day after school - even in the rain and snow. Then she would have a game of ‘tug of war’ with the towel and usually ended up muddier or wetter than the dog before cleaning Storms body and paws.
“Someday Storm I will teach you to wipe your own paws” she said laughing. Then she got a towel to clean herself up. Her parents never minded and were relieved when she showed how serious she was about the dog and had kept to her word.
She never did manage to teach her dog that trick but she did teach her other commands.
Clara loved learning new things and picked things up quite quickly. She had a determined and methodical personality which surprisingly didn’t help her much at school.
She was good at English but apart from that she found school boring and didn’t focus much. Her mind would drift to something more interesting, although she always got her work done.
How is it I can’t draw for toffee, yet I can sketch horses she wondered. She made a mental note to ask Kiera later, god this lesson was boooooooring!
When she had asked her Kiera had looked thoughtful before replying “You can, you just need to find the right thing…and confidence that you can do it.”
“Yeah right. Unless you've forgotten confidence is something I lack in a big way” Clara half joked.
Drawing was something that she did sometimes, to feel care-free for a change and a way to empty her mind. Her favourite drawings were from Black Beauty.
There was plenty of times she needed to do that, to try and empty some of the darkness that had crept in silently, settled and made a permanent home.
Clara’s problem was that because she was so caring, it meant that sometimes she trusted too much too. It had taken a lot to get that far, yet with Tracey and Kiera it had come so naturally. That’s how close they were and how much she respected their friendship.
Well that was until halfway through the last year of school when yet again her world came crashing down.
One day Tracey met Clara in town and they both got on the bus to Tracey’s friends house. This wasn’t exactly unusual as with Tracey they more often than not met with other friends in various places.
After meeting at a park they all settled down on the swings for abit, chatting away before going with the guys to watch the play around with a football. The sun was high in the sky meaning it was getting warm and there was little shade so they went to Callum’s house a little earlier than planned for a nice cool drink and their bbq.
Unfortunately Callum and Alex were a lot better at playing football than cooking food. The sausages and chicken were black, in fact not just black but charcoal! “No matter how funny this is, how are we supposed to eat that?” Asked Tracey.
“All you have to do is rub some of the black off….its fine” replied Callum clearly offended.
“Fine but your taking the first bite” said Alex. He picked up the chicken and broke a piece off. It crumbled in Callum’s hand “not that piece then. Riiiiight okay, take it the shops still open round the corner for a takeout” he said rolling his eyes.
After a couple of hours and much needed food we made our way back home. I told my mum about it and she laughed “yes boys will be boys and that’s why men don’t cook in the kitchen”.
Afew weeks later Alex rang saying how much fun they had and that they wanted to meet again. Tracey and I met them in town but after a short time Callum had to leave for a football match.
Tracey wanted to go with him and pleaded “please let me go with him, you know how much I like him. Please mate, I would do it for you. Just pretend you like Alex, it’s only this once”.
“Fine, I’m not happy about you setting us up but you owe me one okay”. With a sigh Clara let her friend go and turned with a friendly smile to Alex.
“Okay…..so what do we do now?”
“Yeah this is awkward….ummm no idea” Alex said sounding just as awkward as he looked.
“You can go if you want to, I don’t mind” I said wishing he would say yes so that I could leave. It didn’t help that he wasn’t that attractive and we had nothing in common, yet he was Callum’s good friend and I didn’t want to make problems for us all.
We agreed to part ways.
*warning of rape*
“Come on I’ll make sure you get home safely, I mean friends look out for each other dont they”.
We headed off. Part way along the walk he stopped “I’m just going to text Callum and tell him what we are doing so he doesn’t have to worry”. That seemed reasonable.
“Yeah okay, I’ll text Tracey and let her know too”. As she was writing the message Alex suddenly grabbed her roughly by the wrist and twisted it hurting her, whilst continuing to yank her towards some trees.
She tried to pull back but she was no match for him - he was too strong. She was shocked at his sudden change aswell as his strength.
She was slim but she had always thought of herself as pretty strong, After all she would compete on horses aswell as going to the gym. Her weight lifts weren’t brilliant but good for a girl.
Alex roughly pushed her down to the ground then immediately got ontop of her. He yanked at her jeans whilst pinning her with his body. His weight pushed her even harder into the dirt and leaves,
“Don’t, please just let me go” his eyes had never left hers. He stared and laughed. “like hell I will, no it’s time I had some fun. Why should Callum get all the attention and action every time. I won’t be ignored in the shadow of his light”.
“But I don’t even like him in that way” she protested and she honestly didn’t.
“Do you like me?” He asked mockingly. No answer. “That’s what I thought but I’ll make sure you don’t forget me” he said cruelly. Don’t worry I won’t she thought. She tried to block it out buts it’s harder when your a virgin and it hurts not only physically but emotionally too.
This isn’t to how I wanted to loose it Clara thought bitterly.
After he had finished he got up and yanked her up roughly by the wrist before he grabbed her by the throat and pinned her against an inlet in a nearby wall. Seeing as he was quite abit heavier and taller he used that to his advantage to block her in.
“You ever tell anyone what’s happened and I will make sure you won’t talk again!” He threatened, his eyes menacing.
“I won’t, not to anyone” she whispered.
She hated Tracey and held it against her for what had happened. Had she not left her friend with him just for her own interests she wouldn’t have to live with being his victim.
Tracey was abit quieter than usual but Clara put it down to the fact that although Callum had scored (in more ways than one) his team had still lost. He had come upto her when celebrating his goal and after the match too. She never asked about Clara and Alex.
Clara had kept her mouth shut and bided her time. As they were nearly finishing their last year she finally spoke up and told her friend what had happened.
“You do know that when you left me with Alex he raped then threatened me. That was because of you, because I was such a good friend to you. You made that happen! I trusted you”. Okay she didn’t make it happen but I was mad at her.
“Excuse me!” She snapped. “Don’t take it out on me that you got laid and didn’t like it. I didn’t make it happen - you did! I didn’t make you do anything, how pathetic and desperate are you for lying about such a thing and especially about Alex. You could really hurt Callum with things like that”.
Okay that’s it! So one of my best friends thinks I’m lying and now hates me for calling her out. Granted I could have said it better but still it’s over and done now, much like our friendship. She chose the guys over me, of course she would.
Her best friend totally disgusted with her turned and threw away their friendship of 5 years. Better yet her other best friends sided against her as soon as they heard, and her one true friend she had know for over 12 years started dropping her for boyfriends and more popular girls.
It wasn’t family or through loss but it was the end of years of friendships going down the pan within a click of a finger, betrayal and distrust like she never knew and all through her being innocent and honest that changed Clara.
She was no more. She was truly abandoned and tossed to the side like trash. No one cared to talk to her again. She had lost all her friends, isolated with still afew months left of school, lost her beloved dog who had sadly passed a month or so before this all started…..everything.
She had messed up her exams, got rubbish grades and had no idea what she wanted to do in life. She had decided not to care and rebelled at the worst point in her life. But it wasn’t her fault, yet it was. She had all the hate for the world with no way to vent.
She had started smoking in her final year with her longest friend (at that point) when she helped do her paper round which then turned to meeting up in the park after school or tea to chill out, smoke and drink.
Who cares why she did it - she didn’t.
That’s why Clara liked animals so much. They didn’t judge, didn’t pester, weren’t two-faced or a nuisance.
Well apart from when Storm would lay on her legs and feet until they were numb and then Clara would need to pee, trust me that wasn’t an easy task! Trying to walk on numb feet quickly whilst trying to hold it in at the same time was no joke.
No matter what they tried their hardest for you, stayed loyal and always made her smile. Especially if she was upset or having a bad day.
Nightmares replayed in her head but atleast she had Storm by her bed. Just being able to drop her hand down and being able to feel her soft fur, knowing she was there had made the nightmares easier for her.
Now there was nothing but space. It made her feel more empty and god how she missed her babygirl.
Never had she felt so alone, yet safe.
She had done her best to be friends with others and not let her anxiety and insecurities affect her friendships or bond with her family. She had grown up quicker but it had made her a better person and she felt lucky to have had those responsibilities as it showed to her how much she was trusted and loved, and yet…..
Loved yet ignored.
Trusted yet abandoned.
Wanted but forgotten.
She was done. She decided that she wasn’t going to be so vulnerable. She became quiet but observed and listened, learning more than what people thought.
After that Clara stopped trying to be there so much for others. The rest of school time she talked in lessons, didn’t do all her work and rebelled at the wrong time - exam time. She skim read her notes, That was her method and it worked so much better than full on revising and rereading. Doing that made her brain hurt and she forgot more through constant reading.
In the end she wrote down what she thought was right. How wrong was she. Shed got low grades and had let down her parents aswell as herself. But she couldn’t tell them the real reason why could she. She would only get blamed for what happened and she didn’t want to hear it.
She’d lost her virginity, dignity and her close friend in the space of a week! She was angry and hurting.
Her parents thought she was being bullied or secretly on drugs, more the latter which annoyed Clara more than anything. She was close to them and they didn’t believe her no matter how many times she denied it. They were upset and angry that she had ruined her future with her low grades and sudden carefree attitude.
Just because all of their friends children had high grades and were at universities. Clara had never wanted that although her mum had. Now she wouldn’t be able to join in boasting about her daughter Clara thought bitterly, never mind about what I want or how I feel!!!
All she’d wanted to do was work with animals. Wanted to train or rescue them. A pet shop or retailers would be great if second choice but the top was RSPCA. She had volunteered at weekends for awhile and wanted to be an RSPCA inspector. Problem was it took years for that and she needed a job or college course now. So she went to college but after afew months again lacked concentration and went only to the classes she liked. By a miracle she passed.
She went to two colleges but yet she still couldn’t get a job on the lack of grades or experience. But how could she gain experience when no one would give her a job to GET the experience needed!!!!!!
Things still didn’t look up for her. After failing many job interviews and having only afew friends left who she only saw on occasions, she finally gave up and just did voluntary work.
There she settled and after a year found someone. She had found happiness again. The guy was sweet and funny, he seemed interested in what she had to say and was older than her by a few years,
She hadn’t been with a guy since what happened and found that she was nervous yet curious about him too. You know what happened to the curious cat right……
Anyway they were happy for a year until he had a near fatal sickness. He developed a respiratory infection that had swollen his larynx so he couldn’t breathe and ended up on a life support machine.
His family were with him some days but it was Clara who was by his side holding his cold hand everyday, and for as long as the hospital would allow her.
“Speak to him so he can hear your voice” a nurse told her one night “ he might be struggling to find his way and your voice will guide him”.
Although they weren’t religious she thought it was worth a shot. What would I say? How embarrassing would it be? She wondered. Taking a deep breath she said softly “Tyler can you hear me? It’s Clara”.
“Don’t worry your safe, I’m here with you, I’m not going anywhere”.
“Please respond to me. If you can hear me walk towards my voice”.
“Don’t leave me, I love you”.
“Please come back to me”.
After repeating these words and others throughout her visits she began to wonder if it was helping. She felt like giving up.
She wasn’t even 20 and her life was challenging her in every direction she took. Challenging her strength, how much she really cared for others and her faith in herself.
Her teenage years were her worst by far. Having said that most of her life had been harsh and cruel in one way or another.
Once Tyler had come round and after spending another couple of months in hospital he was finally ready to go home. However her relief was short lived. Once he was strong enough they had moved in together and at first things went smoothly. But, once again things made a turn for the worse.
He became unmotivated, stubborn, quiet and would ignore her for hours on end. At first she thought it was him just finding it hard now he couldn’t volunteer or work anymore and was still trying to find his feet.
*violence and rape warning*
“Just you wait until tonight when your asleep. I’ll wake you up” he threatened.
He waited until they were in bed and she was going to sleep before grabbing her hips and started grinding against her ass.
“God you turn me on” his voice and breath shaking “I can barely contain myself”.
Quick as a flash he flipped her over and pushing down against her he shoved her underwear to one side and rammed into her. He would do this every night. Raping her ass every time.
“No!” She snapped one night and pushed back against him when he tried to flip her over. “No not again!”. His breathing got ragged and he fought back pushing against the insides of her arms but she had locked them in position ready.
“Bend your arms” he demanded. “No!” She replied firmly. Suddenly he lay on her back and grabbed her throat from behind and squeezed it hard.
“I will knock you out or kill you if you don’t stop fighting, however I rape you is upto you. It’s going to happen wether you like it or not”.
I could feel myself getting more and more light headed. “Okay I give” I said almost breathless knowing I would have passed out very soon and didn’t know if I would wake again, or if I did what condition I would have been in. The rest seemed like it was happening and I was just floating through it.
Another time he put a pillow over my face and tried to suffocate me to get his way. I pretended I was unconscious and held my breath. He even put his face to my lips to see if I was lying whilst doing the dirty. After he had walked off into another room to watch tv.
Charming! I thought, trying to hold back from sobbing. How sick is this guy? He had done all sorts of things. Anything to get the power over me - of when and how long I breathed for (that’s if I behaved and didn’t bite him or argue).
Making me submit to him anytime he wanted, yet that wasn’t me. I went through more refusing to break. He still never broke me no matter what he said or did. At some points I submitted just to save my life.
Safe to say we did split up shortly after all that.
How did a young, heart warming girl who did no wrong end up like that?
Parents who everything for their daughter, who took her places that most kids her age wouldn’t have even seen, let alone past their town.
Who then got lied to by said daughter so not to hurt them, and then to blame her on her mistakes and foolishness.
She wasn’t a fool, she was too trusting. She made sure not to make that mistake again!
You would have thought by now life would have given her a break, but no. She had had to live with everything in silence. Not that she was too scared to say anything but she knew she would only get blamed for letting things happen or go too far.
Her parents were lovely but they wouldn’t understand.
It had taken years for Clara to work up the courage to tell her parents what had happened that fateful night she got raped, and neither was it how she wanted to tell them.
Her mother had been on and on at her about some small thing. She was used to arguments, names and digs at her by now but it still angered her, sometimes more than others,
“You can never accept being told no, you never accept criticism!”.
“Yes I can! I’ve been told no a number of times thankyou!! And criticism only makes you work harder. I learn from mistakes and negativity, I should know I’ve had plenty of it!!!”.
“No you can’t. You never could even growing up”.
Excuse me!
“I had to grow up fast. I took care of my grandma and grandad too. I looked after and trained animals including a guide dog, volunteered looking after people with mental health both vunerable and the elderly, and I’ve been there for everyone no matter what, what about me”?
“What about you? It’s always about you. The world doesn’t revolve just around you Clara”.
That was uncalled for.
Clara had never been one to be the centre of attention, she wasn’t naive and she had never been greedy. She had always accepted and appreciated what she had.
Never had she demanded things or thrown a tantrum over not having something…..ok ONCE she had argued when she was younger over something but she hadn’t understood.
She had been around 10 and was in town with her mum. She used to collect My Little Ponies and had used her pocket money to buy 2 she hadn’t got. These 2 were hard to find.
Afew stalls over another one had spotted her eye. She had asked her mum if she could buy it for her, foregoing her pocket money for the next week but Alison had said no and that she couldn’t afford it.
Clara didn’t understand “but it’s only £2” she had argued.
Her mum didn’t budge “no I’ve told you I can’t afford it. I’ve got to pay the car insurance and then we can get a drink”.
“How can you afford to pay that but you can’t afford £2?”
She hadn’t been bratty as her mum was calling her now. She’s zoned out as her mum kept ranting back in the present.
“Look I’m sorry I’ve failed you and that you’ve never been able to show off about me” she snapped part sarcastic, part truth. That had shut Alison up briefly.
“We just don’t know what happened to you. You were so different when you were younger. You keep saying you weren’t on drugs or being bullied but you would have thought you had outgrown this behaviour by now, but you’ve only grown with it”.
“For the last time no I wasn’t on drugs, no I’m not now either, if you really must know I was raped whilst in Year 11” I yelled. “I was forced down and raped whilst being threanted to be knocked out if I made a noise or tried to alert someone. Is that a good enough reason for you!?”
I hated that I’d said it like that. I could have chosen a better time and a better way to say it than that.
“We know. We saw the abortion leaflets in your drawers in your room” Alison said, her voice calmer now.
“What??? You knew and you never told me?”
“No. We knew you were having s*x and knew something had happened since your behaviour had changed so much”.
“Well what do you expect? I’m not going to come out smiling and all shits and giggles now am I?”.
“No but you slacked off at the most important time. You didn’t study enough or work hard enough so you didn’t get the grades you could have got for a better job”.
I knew it!!
“I should have pushed you harder. You could have got a decent job by now. You might have found a good man who had a good, reliable job and you would have both had money but you never tried hard enough”.
“You’re not like Joanne or Celia’s kids who grew up and went to university and made something of themselves”.
Yep here’s another dig to my apparently dull and mindless life. You wonder why I’ve got ended up with mental health, anger and anxiety issues and a fk you attitude.
I’ve done so many great things but who cares about all that huh. There’s no point in arguing these days - yet I do anyway. I can’t help it, I’m a fighter. I don’t run from confrontation, I walk towards it with my head held high. Well I haven’t always been but some things change you….and some things never change.
That’s the funny thing about adoption or something traumatic. It’s all good and well when they are young or at the early stages of just finding out, you know all the sympathy. But then as you get older it’s forgotten about and like a ‘oh well, you’ve landed on your feet’ kind of attitude at you.
People don’t seem to think that you are still a bit insecure, vulnerable or got mental health issues from it that stay with you. That’s another thing that’s thrown around far too much - mental health.
Anything bad happens it’s mental health, someone hurts themselves or someone else it’s mental health. Someone walks or looks funny in the street yep you’ve guessed it it’s mental health.
No it’s not, not always. Mental health is not an escape goat - it’s real and it sucks!
Mental health isn’t all about hearing voices and having to see quacks. It does make you not care anymore and usually at important times.
You do withdraw or suddenly have a complete 160 where you are fine one minute and the next you feel empty and numb for no reason. You can’t justify yourself as to why things happen - they just do.
You want to scream until you can’t anymore and rip someone’s head off with your bare hands, yet cry hysterically on your knees on the floor at the same time. It’s bloody hard to cope with.
Or you want to show your feelings and love yet you can’t as they are so strong so instead you settle for anything, then that makes you feel pathetic and frustrated. The slightest things sets you off, you then snap and snarl at the very one you're trying to embrace.
You leave and go to your room or to a quiet place, put on heavy music and drown your ears in the noise and chaos of it. It’s like red hot adrenaline pumping through your veins and anyone tries to talk to you during that point god help them!!!
Then as you come down you listen to softer music - that’s when you can be approached. Only if you're not careful and you're alone too long you can plummet immediately into depression big time.
You want to say sorry and show them again how you feel, you approach them and they don’t notice or don’t show any reaction to your apologies and UP goes that vulnerable anger yet again.
Your humiliated and angry fire fills your veins so strong you make hurtful digs or snap and storm off and the circle begins again, only each time we repeat it the more time it takes to come down but instead of nice music you turn to depressive and self loathing. That’s worse!!
There’s plenty more examples as we all know. Or atleast some of you will anyway.
See why should we feel bad about the way we cope? Like say a birthday party for someone you love, wether it be a family member or a dear friend. Why can’t you try and make it personal and theme it accordingly, whilst trying hard to make sure they have a nice time?
Not everyone enjoys birthdays. Some people are reminded of the fact that they were made to go through hell over the past years and feel nothing good about the so called special day.
Well that’s what people like me are here for. To remind you that someone IS lucky to have you in their life and that yes that day may hold many bad memories over the years, but they can also be very good ones too. Ones that make you smile and feel wanted, loved and appreciated.
What’s wrong with that? Now I’m the person who does that for others but also don’t really look forward to mine much so I’m kind of on both sides. Yes I know, contradicting much haha.
Well like I say I’m messed up in the head and heart.
