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Stone Cold

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The hard ground beneath is me grating my back as I turn. I lie curled up like a frightened child in my damp, filthy blanket trying to save heat and fighting for comfort where it's unachievable. The cold stinging my skin until I'm numb and my toes ache and burn. I lie as silent as the dead. In the distance, laughter and sounds of happiness from people pouring from bars and clubs taunts my soul as I lie here alone on these dark deserted streets. I was only fourteen and mum was spiralling downhill: drinking, drugs and bringing home men at all hours of the night. She was acting like a troubled teenager trying to find herself but blinded by excitement and adventure she was creating every night to the life she already had. It would start as a laugh but always end in a fight and with me picking up the pieces each morning like a slave in my own home I didn't think things could get any worse, and then he came along. Mum was craving the feeling of wellbeing and this was the closest she was going to get; it made her body tingle like a drug addict forcing heroine through their veins. The night she brought him home I knew he was cruel. He stared at me with his vicious eyes and a sly smile on his face as he walked past my bedroom pulling my mum forcefully behind him like an angry parent dragging a small child. ...read more.


His rough, revolting hands were all over her. He had stolen her from me and I had nothing left. I ran away as fast as I could without looking back and I reached the train station before I knew it. The train came and I stepped on taking a deep breath and clenching my fists. I sat at the window and the journey to the rest of my life began. I watched the countryside passing quickly. It was like my life for the past two years, flashing before my eyes and having no way to stop it. Coming and going without any say in direction. Arriving was bliss. As soon as I stepped off the train I felt like a new person and my mind was emptied of all the bad memories and was making room for the fresh new ones. I could smell all the snack bars and fast food restaurants as I took a deep breath. Looking around me there was people of different backgrounds, different nationalities, couples and families all blending into one as I gazed over the blanket of people. It was a complete contrast to the countryside flashing before my eyes. I had a say in direction I knew where I was going and what I wanted. Nothing was going to flash before my eyes anymore as I was grasping day. I had so many positive hopes powering through my body; my feet were on the ground but my head was flying high. ...read more.


I looked at them and wondered about their lives; what had put them here? But then I realised I was one of them. I wasn't independent anymore - I was simply homeless. For the next couple of weeks I still hadn't slept even half a night's sleep. I was petrified to close my eyes and people started to call me 'fret' because of how much I worried. No one knew my real name and they probably didn't care. Again, the city had stolen from me, taking my individuality and draining the personality from my body. I had lost a lot of weight because I never had any money for food and my body was fragile. My hair, which was never washed, had turned to straw. I was a walking mannequin because I never showed any emotion. I looked like I was on drugs due to the lack of sleep I had huge bags under my eyes; so while begging for money people wouldn't even two looks. On good day I would manage to scrape a pound. I didn't know who I was and couldn't reconginse myself as I walked past glass windows. So here I am. Lying on the cold pavement I call home; constantly wondering if mum ever thinks of me. I would never go back now. I couldn't face her. It was my choice to come here and this is my life - I have to take what comes and deal with it. Maybe one day things will get better but for now; this is me. ...read more.

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