how life changes

the past isn't the past

I ran. I ran till my legs were tired. I ran till I couldn't run anymore. So i walked. I walked till my legs were tired. I walked till I couldn't walk anymore. That's how I found myself being caught again. That's how I found myself being stuck in the hell that I call home. You are probably wondering how I ended up here and why I see home as a hell. Well it's a long story, but I guess I have time so sit tight and be prepared for a rollercoaster that is my life.

I guess it all started at birth but I feel like you would need some context to fully understand my amazing life. My mum and dad were the typical high school sweetheart type of couple. They met when they had a joint chemistry lesson in year eight and as my dad would say, "it was love at first explosion". You may be wondering, "don't you mean love at first sight". To answer that question no I don't otherwise I would have said that now stop interrupting the story. Anyway, before I was rudely interrupted I was about to say. My mum was amazing at chemistry and was an A* pupil in that class, my dad however was not. Not to say my dad was bad at chemistry, quite the opposite actually. The difference being my mum did as she was told and did it perfectly but my dad liked to put his own spin on things, meaning he didn't measure out any of the chemicals. That meant that when my mum asked him to measure out the chemical they would need my dad just put a random amount in each test tube, so when my mum mixed them together it exploded. My dad found this hilarious, my mum however found it annoying and proceeded to scream at my dad for his "childish and immature behaviour". My dad said that when he looked into my mum's eyes while she was shouting he just fell in love with her and was already starting thinking of his vowels. After two years of my dad trying to get mum to love him back he finally succeeded. Another six years go by with my parents being the happiest couple around when one day it all ended.

My mum went into labour with me but she unfortunately didn't make it out alive. My dad was heart broken, the love of his life would never hear those vowels he made in that year eight chemistry lesson and would never cuddle up to him on the sofa after a hard day at work. Instead she was led on a hospital bed dead. You may be thinking that that is why my home is hell, because my dad blamed me for my mothers death and therefore started abusing me or something when in actuality my dad loved me and raised me like my mum would have wanted.

Me and my dad were very close for the short amount of time that we got to spend together to the point where people thought he was just my older brother and not my dad.

This all changed however when my dad died exactly 7 years after my mum. Sad story right my mum died on my literal birthday and then my dad died on my seventh birthday. It was my fault that my mum died as it was my birth that killed her and if that wasn't enough guilt to handle my dad also died because of my selfishness. You see, my dad died in an armed robbery at the toy story when we were going to buy some more gifts for my birthday. With both of my parents dead I was left in the hands of the British foster care system. Lucky me...

Now though i am in my last year of secondary school and am starting to wallow in self pity. You see the British foster system is extremely flawed, especially after you start secondary school as no one wants a hormonal, rebellious teenager. I've been with my current foster home for a year now and I can definitely say that this is the worst one yet. They don't even call me by my real name. It's just "Brat". If it weren't for school I think I would start to forget what my name actually was. This foster home is the worst as it is no longer just verbal abuse I have to deal with but it is also physical abuse as no one cares for a sixteen year old foster kid. School isn't much better with me going to this fancy private school that I got a scholarship. Not only am I the only person there who is in foster care but I am also the only kid there whose parents aren't stinking rich. Due to this I am bullied relentlessly by the majority of the student body and the ones that don't bully me pity the poor, bullied, orphan. Oh I almost forgot to mention how our story started. Well I tried to run away but as you could tell snow I am going to spare you the gruesome details and just say that I was severely beaten when I got home and was unable to walk for a week. Thankfully it was the Christmas holiday so I didn't need to make up an excuse for why i wasn't at school for a week. It did however mean that I now only have one day to complete all of my homework and prepare for any pop quizzes that the teachers may do. That's how I spent the last day of my Christmas holidays, doing homework and preparing for a test that I don't know whether I'll have.

With the tragic backstory done let's get into where our story begins.

This story begins with a sixteen year old child waking up in their cupboard of a room to their foster mum through ice and water on them and screaming at them to make breakfast and then hurry up to school. That's exactly what I do. I slowly remove myself from my self-made bed

(which is just an old dirty sheet spread out on my cupboard floor) and made my way to the kitchen where I proceeded to make my foster parents eggs, bacon and toast. After that was done I quickly did my morning routine and left for my two hour walk to school. I loved this walk to school. The peacefulness that comes with walking on the pavement without having to constantly check my back to make sure no one is coming for me. Just being able to pretend that for once i am not me. I was in complete bliss until suddenly I heard a scream from the other side of the road and the screeching of someone's brakes. I looked to the road to see a little kid no older than five frozen in fear and without thinking of the consequences I ran into the roan and gently through the kid to who I could only assume was their mum and then I felt a sudden pain in my side until everything slowly faded to black.