"I pulled It in!"
For a long time,years in fact that is what i thought.
I really believed it was my own fault and that i must be a really horrible person,because of the things that had happened to me.
As an adult and parent later on,i realized it was all a load of B/S.I realized the circumstances were beyond my control,i was only a child.Coming to terms with that did not take the pain away though.
While living with my foster mum,life was quite a bit better.She was quite an unusual character,and i know she did her best for me.That is until she met the russian guy.He came across as nice and friendly to begin with,but he drank a lot.
He stayed overnight often and then he would be drunk and aggressive,i spent less and less time there.
One night i'd gone home to get something and he was there by himself,he was abusive and drunk.He told me i was ruining his relationship with my foster mum,i had told her he was no good.
We argued,there was a lot of shouting and then he pinned me up against the wall,hands round my throat,told me 'i was not to talk about him to her and that he intended to marry her'.By this point i was really scared,he was hurting me and i thought he intended to kill me.
Somehow i broke away and left the flat.
There was no way i was going back there,i went to my boyfriends flat and stayed there.I was only 15yrs old.Back to wondering WTF was going to happen next.
I was madly in love with my boyfriend,he had grown up in a childrens home ,so we had something in common.Unfortunately, he was even more messed up than me,although i could not see it at that time.
About a week later i was picked up by the police,as i was a minor.This time i was put into another secure unit for wayward girls.
This was not a prison,but compared to the previous place it sure gave me a taste of having all human rights stripped away from me.
On arrival,clothes and personal possessions were taken away from me.We were forced to wear grotty old,baggy clothes.
We worked long hours,cleaning,scrubbing floors,(they were wood,we were expected to make them shine,so you could see your face on it.)
It was a very hard regime and makes me think of stories of the RPF.Only this was in the real world,and i had not comtted any crimes as such.
At the top of the house was a room,no windows, and if a girl misbehaved she would be locked in there until the "Sargeant Major"(this was the nickname we gave the woman who ran the home(she looked and behaved more like a man than a woman) deemed her worthy enough to be let out.
Fortunately i never got put there,i came close though.
I tried to escape from this "prison".There was only one window that opened.It was a big Victorian house and had those huge windows with sash cords.A couple of the other girls helped me get it open,I put my hands on the ledge to climb out and BANG,the next thing i knew i was screaming in agony as the window had crashed down trapping my right hand in the window.Unbeknown to me the sashcords were broken.
It took several attempts to get my hand out of the window,i spent the next few hours at casualty.My fingers were completely flattened.then they went blue and started to swell.I was very lucky not to have more permanent damage,other than my right middle finger is slighty fatter than the left and the nail to that finger is always so much thicker than my other nails.It took weeks to heal,and i was let off the" bad girls room" owing to the fact they thought i'd learnt a lesson.In other words "There was no escape".
How i hated that place.It was degrading,apart from maybe a couple of girls.no one there deserved to live under those conditions.I believe they call it rehabilitation.Most of the girls there hated adults and the outside world even more by the time they left.I was there for about 6mths.When i left,i swore that would never happen to me again.