TeamSykes_'s JumboTweets
- You Can't Run
PART ONE. 'And it’s all my fault.'
I dragged my finger tips across the dusty window sill. Scraping away peices of dirt as I did. Looking out, I watched the little girls chase after their friends, mothers taking their children to the park. Everyone looks so happy. Why can’t that just be me? I don’t want to be the girl who is constantly running away, in fear. I just want to be little again. I want you home mummy. I want you home sis. Nothing ever goes right for me. And nothing ever will.
“Melanie, you ready?” My care worker asked, after leaning on the door frame.
“As ready as im ever gunna be.”
“You answer that everytime, I don’t get it.”
“I’m never going to be ready to leave behind my past. I cant just keep running Scott. it’s not going to fix anything.”
“But, you’re not safe here Melanie. Come on, taxi’s outside.”
In three years, i’ve been in four foster homes, and five different care homes. Achievment eh? must be some sort of record. Today, its 3 years, 9 months, and 8 days since the accident.
It was a Tuesday. 25th July, 2008. I had just broken up from school for summer. Just finished year 9. My sister and best friend Grace had just finished year 11. She was my hero. She was always so strong. My mum and dad use to fight alot. Mum and Dad blamed me for it. And Grace use to defend me. When no one else cared, she was there. Back to the story. We had just finished school and my mum had picked us up, as usual.
“Hey girls, thinking of having a barbeque tonight, sound good?” Me and Grace both nodded in excitement, we never did things like this. Something else I should probably mention, my Dad was an alcoholic, a druggie, a complete twat. He use to beat my mum, Grace, and me. Physically and mentally. We arrived home, and mum started to set up the BBQ. It was all going well, I was genuinely happy for once! Then, me being me, I had to go mess everything up. I walked past round the corner out of the door, carrying the plates of food. One slight problem would spark my dad off, but tonight was completely different. I walked round the corner and banged into him, causing the handmade food to go all over him. He was furious. Most people would be upset, but just go get changed, and laugh about it later. But no. My dads not most people. He lost it. He grabbed my mum and Grace, and dragged them up the drive, throwing them into the car. He shouted awful things to me, about how I don’t deserve anyone, I don’t deserve happiness. He drove away before Grace and Mum could get away, as much as they screamed and shouted, nothing worked. I ran upstairs, locking myself into my tiny room. I shared it with Grace, I grabbed one of her hoodies and threw it ono, inhaling her scent. Three hours must have passed since I fell asleep in the safety of my duvet, when I was awoken by a loud bang at the door. Worriedly, I opened the door, revealing three policemen, a social worker, and a doctor. I stepped away allowing them in, but my heart was going crazy. like it was going to fall out of my chest. I thought It was all my fault, I still believe it is. If i hadn’t of been so stupid, none of it would of happend. Apparently, when they drove away, my dad drove them to some lake, drugged them, and threw them into the murkiest water he could find, hoping to get rid of any evidence. Thank fully, there were eye witness’ who rang the police immediently. Unfourtunantly, they couldn’t revive my mum and Grace. They were gone, no coming back. And it is all my fault. My dad got life in prison, but he agrees with me, how every last part of it is down to me, and thats why im not safe, in the slightest.
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