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My life never was the most straight forward to talk or write about, as sad as it seems, the only memories that stand out are n

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Introduction

My life never was the straightest forward to talk or write about. As sad as it seems, the only memories that stand out are not very happy ones. I am 17. I was born in Gloucester. Both of my parents raised me, and at the beginning of my life we definitely didn't live in luxury. We moved up to London when I was about 4 years old where my father started up his own business which grew to be very successful. That's when all the problems started for us. Because of trusting someone that was supposed to be a very good friend my father ended up in prison. This friend actually set him up to try to save his own skin. In doing so he took away a father of two, and a loyal and loving husband. Shortly after my father was sentenced, my mother, sister and I moved to South Wales where we had close family. I was 11 years old and I didn't realise that my mum would save me from self destruction. The mountains were huge, powerful and beautiful, the trees stood tall and strong. There thick, bushy, deep green branches stretched overhead as we drove through the old winding lanes. I opened the window halfway down and allowed the wind to ruffle its fingers through my hair and felt the hot sun beat down on my face and legs, making them stick to the leather of the car seats. ...read more.

Middle

I sat down on my new bed and decided that maybe it wouldn't be so bad here, away from the constant hustle and bustle of London. School was due to start for me on Tuesday. Today was Friday, so I had plenty of time to settle in. For the next year or so, life in Wales was quite normal. I went to school and was an A grade pupil most importantly for me at that stage, I made lots of friends. Maybe this wasn't the best thing for me, because I fell in with the wrong crowd: The crowd that stayed out late. Drinking, smoking, taking drugs and joyriding. The popular crowed. It all started with a girl called Bethan. She was a very pretty girl that was in my class. Bethan was clever and took school seriously. One day in class, it was English if I remember rightly; we started talking and found that we had very similar personalities. Soon after we were hanging around together every day and sitting next to each other in every class. I guess you could say we were inseparable. One Thursday afternoon she asked me if I wanted to come to a village called Maesycwmmer. I replied that I would ask my mum and get back to her. Later on that evening I did ask my mum, and although I can't remember exactly how the conversation went, I do know that there was a lot of persuasion involved and finally she gave in on the condition that she would drive me to and from the village. ...read more.

Conclusion

Those were the dark days, as I now call them. That is really all there is to do in Wales. Alcohol is seen as a large percent of the populations' best friend; it is seen as normal. Of course not everyone in Wales is already or is turning into an alcoholic but as you tend to know everyone in your village and don't really go far outside of it, you don't know much better. But I should have. Soon enough, all I lived for was the weekend. I didn't care about anything or anyone else. I didn't go to school because I didn't see any point if I wasn't going to college. I couldn't be bothered anyway. To my poor mum, I was a hopeless case. We didn't argue much, just silently excepted the silent fact, that if I didn't stop I would completely lose myself, my culture, heritage and respect for myself and others. That is why; five long years after we moved to Wales, my mum sent me back to London to my dads'. I didn't want to go. I was crying and shouting, but deep down I new it was the right thing. And just look at me now, I am working and in full time college course and am happy with my life. I can finally see what my mum had been telling me all those years, but then, I didn't realise my mum would save me from self destruction. ?? ?? ?? ?? 08/05/2007 Created by Charli Daley English non-fiction ...read more.

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