Teenage Rebellion

Autobiography written by freedom44 on Saturday 28, November 2009

Member Avatar
Description
This is a painful episode from my teenage years I wrote two pieces this is part 1 they are just a 'stream of consciousness' and are unfinished

Overall Rating: 84.3%

This writing has been rated by 2 members, resulting in a rating of 84.3% overall. Below is a breakdown of these results:

Concept/Plot:86%
Imagery:84%
Spelling & Grammar:84%
Flow/Rhythm:84%
Vocabulary:83.5%
November 1980 Teenager It was November 1980 and I had run away from home "" I had enough of years of being beaten. I wandered around the streets crying, not sure of where I was going, but knowing that I had to get away. I was constantly looking over my shoulder expecting my dad to come and get me and force me back home. I didn't think or worry about how late it was getting I just kept on walking and walking. All I could think about was how stupid I was for making my dad angry and how I wished I could make him happy. I began to realise that he had not always been like that there was some good times like when I was twelve he took me to the pictures to see "Live And Let Die. I remembered how sorry he had been that he was working late again on my Birthday, and he bought me a rose home and promised to take me out the next day. I felt so sorry for him at the time as he looked so tired. Thinking about that made me feel guilty and I decided to ring home. I had no money so I reversed the charges and that just fuelled my dad's temper and made things much worse. As I stood there in the phone box cold and tired listening to him rant and cuss at me down the phone I realised that I had gone too far and that there was no going back so I slammed the phone down and ran to the park. I didn't know what to do and by this time it was 1am. I thought again about going home and just taking the beating but I was too scared so I went to my grandma's. I knew I would be safe there as my dad hated his mum and had not talked to her for years. I remember feeling brave and scared all at the same time. Part of me wanted to go home and say sorry again. My grandma was worried about me as it was so late at night. She didn't know what to do, so she phoned the police. When the policewoman came she told me to go home and "stop being a silly girl'. I remember feeling very angry about that and bursting into tears. My grandma started to tell her about my dad's temper and how she used to have to protect my mum from him. When the policewoman asked if it were true, I was so frightened that my dad would get into trouble and take it out on me that I lied. I just said I didn't know. I was too worried about going home and making my dad mad. She suggested I stay with grandma and told my grandma to ring the social services. That was more scary "" they came and were quite nosy and bossy and made me feel that I had to get at my dad. They seemed to want me to punish him and that made me more anxious. I suddenly felt out of my depth. I was told I had to go with them to their office and they would contact my dad. Then at the office I was told my dad was downstairs. Even though there were four social workers in the room with me at the time, I still had this terrifying image of him charging up the stairs and beating me. I was so scared I couldn't concentrate on what they were saying. They said my dad had told them I wasn't coming home and had signed papers agreeing to take me into Care. It was then I felt an overwhelming sense of relief coupled with extreme anxiety. I was told I had to go to a children's home out of Derby to stop me accidentally bumping into my dad. I was in a state of shock as it suddenly dawned on me that I was to be taken to somewhere I didn't know, with no clothes - nothing, and that I was to be taken there immediately. I was also told that I couldn't see my mum or any family member. I was then told that my "case" was to be passed over immediately to two different social workers as the one I had spoken to previously was an "emergency duty officer' and he needed to stay at the office. I asked who the other three social workers were and was told not to worry about it. It slowly dawned on me that I didn't really know how things had come so far and so quickly. I was no longer an ordinary fifteen year old girl but a "serious case of physical and emotional abuse". They never talked to me in that car whilst driving me they just talked to each other. I kept asking questions and they said that everything will be discussed with me at the next case conference. But they didn't tell me what a case conference was, only that my school teachers and any other professional person involved with my family would attend and discuss my future care. Things were getting more and more serious and I was so painfully aware that I was completely alone and at that moment I felt that I wanted to go home more strongly than ever and I didn't care if I got a beating, I just wanted to go home. I told that to the social workers and begged them to take me back home. They said my dad was a dangerously violent man and I was never going home. I remember thinking that I had said something wrong to make them think that and my dad would kill me if he found out. I started to panic when I got to the home and I didn't want to get out the car. The social worker told me not to worry but I just thought what does she know? She knocked on the door and a large woman with black hair and big glasses opened it. She was very nice to me and said her name was Pam and not to worry as I was safe now. She hugged me and I liked that as she felt so warm and safe. She took me into the kitchen and asked me if I wanted anything to eat but I was too scared to eat so I said no. She said that I should call the female staff "Aunty" and the male staff "Uncle" and that there were two different staff each day. She said they each worked shifts and shared sleepovers and that I would soon get to know them all. I said I didn't want to see anyone but she said we should go into the dayroom and meet all the others so I did. I felt very nervous and embarrassed when she opened the door and seeing 13 other kids all staring at me. One of them was an afro-Caribbean girl and that scared me as my dad was racist and had forbidden me to talk to anyone who wasn't white. This girl asked why I was frightened of her and I ran away. She never gave up asking. I found that I liked her more each day. I began to trust her and told her everything about my dad and she asked me to question what he was saying. As she did I began to realise that there was a possibility that my dad was wrong. I still felt scared and lonely "" she gave me one of her nightdresses to wear as I hadn't brought one. She was so kind, I felt safe with her. She was just like a sister to me. Part of me feared our friendship as I thought my dad would beat me if he found out. I became attached to her and went to school with her. I even managed to convince the staff at the home to ask the teachers to put me in the same class as her, even though she was in the fifth year, a year older. The first day of school was spent in the sick bay as I had a terrible headache and sickness through nerves. Gradually as time went on I relaxed a bit more but I still spent most of my time clinging on to Joanie. All too soon Christmas came and I wanted to go home, I asked Uncle David to phone my dad and ask him. I sat there in his office waiting while he phoned
   

Post Comment

Please Login to Post a Comment.

Comments

    This is very intense and emotional. I suspect that writing this has been somewhat of an emotional release valve for you. Forgive me if I'm wrong.
    I sense an underlying toughness inside you that will serve you well as your writing matures.
    Very well done.
    Thanks my writing has been and still is an emotional release for me. I am currently working on a book based on my traumatic experiences
    This first person style suits this very well. Please continue with more of this.