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I was born and raised in the borough of Hillingdon. I had a fair upbringing but always resented my sisters as they were always able to be more independent and still are to this day. I had always dislike my oldest sister as she was very controlling and not in the bossy sister way. She would expect everything on a plate of gold and nothing less. Following constant arguments that usually end with me winning mentally and verbally but her winning by "telling dad". At the age of eleven, I had finally said I had had enough. I had planned to run away when the next family argument kicked up. I would slip out the back door and be off with enough camping gear and rations to last 2 months. I had this all packed for a good 3 weeks.
When the evening came and the usually "argument" kicked up I had had a go at the oldest for a good 3 hours. Everyone trying to calm me down I managed to slip up to my room "crying". I grabbed my stuff and managed to sneak to the back door. I had got to the door when Nicole (second oldest) saw me and my stuff and protested at once. I got on to the other side of the door in the nick of time locking them in and me out. I was planning to take the dune buggy up the back roads to Berkhampsted and stay there until I found a stable life. I had the keys to it in a carved out book in my room which I took with me under my arm. I got to the buggy and turned it to the gate. It had been pissing it down with rain and as I turned the key in the ignition I had a sinking feeling that I was going nowhere quickly. The battery had cut out and I was sitting on what was potentially a very expensive bench. With the buggy fucked and me at the edge of restraint, I was willing to do anything to get away. I ran to the gate and forced it open and as I had done so, my sister Nicole had grabbed me by the collar.
I turned round and ran through the house. I got to the front door my dad stepped in front of me. I begged him to stand aside and let me pass but no cigar. He wasn’t willing to let his only son run off into the night and end up dead in a forest some where. I admitted defeat and began to listen in to the argument that my oldest sister and mum where still continuing. I heard her call me a fuck wit and a pathetic cunt. As any one would, I lost it. At this point she would have been 20 so there was no need for her to be living with her parents and sponging off everyone. So passing through the kitchen, I drew out the biggest knife of the stock and held it to her face. I told her that if this is such a shit house to live in and that there was nothing here for her then why was she still here?
She responded to this by saying she had no where to go. I laughed so hard that my sides began to hurt. The fact that her best friend Cleo was more of a lapdog then an equal friend and that she had her eating out of her chubby palm made me sick, but this only shows that she had more places to go then me or then any of us. With out lowering the knife I bellowed into her face "find somewhere" she merely snarled back at me and told me to fuck off. This was the tip of the iceberg. With nothing but adrenalin rushing through my mind and soul I though that that night would be the end of it. She would have half her face missing and I would be locked up safely in Feltham.
Just as I tensed my arm to take a slice, my dad seemed to of noticed I wasn’t fucking around. He stepped in front of her and seemed to tower over me with disappointment. My heart sank as my arm went limp and I dropped the knife with an almighty clatter. I’ll never forget his face that night. The sheer fear of losing some one so close and at the fault of some one closer. I could tell that if I had left that night it would have damn near killed him.
As soon as the knife had hit the floor my mum seemed to whimper with relief. Nicole put a comforting hand on my shoulder as if to say that tonight was over and that I had failed. I could imagine that Sarah (the oldest) still to this day believes that she had managed to beat the spirit out of me by twisting the rules and regulations of the house. Defeated, I took and shower and cried to my self in bed. Dad feeling the most sympathy came and stayed till I had fallen asleep.
In the morning school seemed too dull and as my emotions were running higher then cloud nine, I ended up getting into a fisty-cuffs with a boy called Gareth. I seemed to of vented all my anger out on this arrogant, self-centered cunt of a child as he probably reminded me of my sister. After six of his mates ripping me off and a knee to the throat I went down. Gareth (who had gone down after about 3 hits to the stomach) staggered to his feet and walked away with his "gang". I still hadn’t quite got my breath back when the girl I had liked at that moment saw me on the floor gasping for air and Gaz’s crew walking off and had assumed the worst. Within the hour half the school had heard how Gareth had battered the scrawny white neek and that he was a bad man.
So, the next day I was playing football with my mates and who would it be but to take the ball? Gareth, and this time on his own. Chasing him to the next playground, I slammed him against the fence and kicked the ball out of his feet with unnecessary force. He seemed to take the hint and shoved me back
I turned to him and merely smiled and he threw the first punch. Dodging it I clocked him right in the face, had got him in a head lock and pummeled him black and blue. Only when he screamed did his mates intervene. As I flung him to the ground and kicked 7 different shades of shit out of him, his sidekick Gregory had rugby tackled me from behind. Shocked, I looked around and received yet another cheap hit to the throat. Teachers soon broke everything up as I began to hyperventilate. Being dragged off to the nurse's office is always a triumphant exit as he was still on the floor groaning with agony.
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Wow.. that was very intense!
ReplyDeleteVery intense, so much anger!
ReplyDelete