The area I picked in London was an awful mistake. I was living on the streets with no money, no job, nothing. And to add to that, these unpleasant people would come up to me and stare. And then there were the occasional perverts hanging around, but I kept myself hidden when I saw them lurking about. I tried to make life work, by scavenging for anything I could get my hands on. I couldn’t think of asking my parents for help, it was just out of the question. I had been gone to long, I could imagine the angry looks on their faces, describing the pain I had put them through. What if they didn’t even want me back? They seemed quite content with my sister. They had probably forgotten all about me, now that I had brought so much shame and embarrassment to the household. Oh, I was so envious of my sister, sitting at home where she belonged, with no worries or concerns. My parents had probably given up all hope on finding me, and settled in to there normal lifestyle. I had to stop thinking about them, or I would never survive in these conditions. I had to fend for myself.
As each second, minute and hour went by, my life only seemed to become more and more depressing. As night fell, I became frightened of someone or something coming up to me. I couldn’t bare it any more. I was weak and hadn’t eaten for days; I was living on a pair of cardboard boxes with extremely thin corduroy trousers and a cotton top. I would freeze from the cold nights, if I stayed a day longer. I wanted to have a future that I could be proud of. I even started to miss high school. I needed an education and I needed my family. There was only one thing to do, and that was to pick up the courage to call my parents. I was feeble and frail, and the only thing I wanted now was to be at home, and away from this web of disaster, I had tangled myself up in. The next morning, I called up my parents with a life saving pound, which I found in the gutter. My mother picked up, her voice seemed fragile and broken. As soon as she grasped the fact that it was I on the other end, she broke down into tears of relief. She asked me where I was and told me that she was coming to collect me right now. She handed the phone over to everyone else, I was so pleased to hear every ones voice on the phone. It seemed to comfort me. They were so concerned, how I could have thought that they didn’t care, was beyond me. But I was coming home now, and that was all that mattered.
When arriving back home, I couldn’t describe my emotions; I was just so overjoyed. My family was so glad and relieved to see me again, and I was delighted to see them in person. After this incident, life went on. I returned back to school, happier than ever. I went on to do a degree. I became a doctor with an income that would make anyone jealous. I now have a wonderful husband and father, and the perfect family of a boy and girl. I look back on what I did and consider that it was a lesson well learnt. Not every ending is always as happy as mine.
By Vaneeta Loomba 9T2
