The beginning to an end
“MUM!!!.”
“MUMMY PLEASE ANSWER ME.?!”
“SOMEBODY HELP!!!?.”
((:BEEP)) ((BEEP)) ((BEEP))
“Awh what the hell”
((BEEP BEEP BEEP))!!!!!!!!
“Fine I’m up!!” I shouted at my phone alarm aside of my mattres, which if anything saved me from another horrific dream that I was drowning in. I lay there for a moment allowing my tired squinty eyes to process the morning light that is pitching through the dirty printed window. I sit up try to gather my thoughts while rubbing my eyes, only to be startled bye someone shouting my name down stairs.
“Sizlack get packed and ready to go!”
I quickly come to a realisation that today is the day I leave this hell I have called my home for past 9 years of my life and I was ecstatic!. I quickly find my feet and run to the door to reply in a loud voice...
“Yes, give me 10 minutes and I’ll be right down!.”
And with that I ran to my mattress which was not Accompanied bye a bed frame, the room which I had called my own was not your typical teenage girls room. It had no carpet nor did it have any paint on the walls..just a concrete room. It did not take long to gather my things. I quickly opened my backpack and shoved in the little cloths and underwear I owned, along with my little brown box. This box had all my memories of which I had of my mum and dad. I treasured this box with my whole heart and being. I lost both my parents when I was 10 and was placed in care soon after..I am now 17. After carfully placing it in my backpack, I quickly changed out of my panda night dress into a simple white T-shirt with skinny black ripped jeans and threw on my favourite (only) black leather jacket. After quickly putting on my brown mid ankle boots, putting my backpack on one of my shoulders and pulling my long, thick mid back length curly black hair in a messy bun I was ready. Dashing down the concrete stairs towards the front door my heart was racing! (Finally ally your breaking free) my subconscious was singing. As I finally reached the front door, my social carer (who is anything but caring) opened the front door and led the way. As I followed her I never realised how grey her hair was..when did she become so old? I thought as I struggled to keep up with her. She was quite tall standing at 5ft9 however everyone seemed tall compared to me at my height only reaching 5ft1. My social Carers name was jean but she always insisted i called her bye her last name which was Mrs longdale. And in return she addressed me bye my last name. Soon enough we approached the local train station that was in walking distance from the care home. As we stood at the entrance she looked at me with a blank face. This woman was so cold and heartless I sadly never shared any type of bond whatsoever, she never intended to get emotionally attached to me. I managed to give a small smile and hold out my hand as I said “thank you Mrs longsdale, for everything” and with that she shook my hand and made her way back to the home. It’s time, I can do this. I’m going to find my way back home, my real home.
