Dreams

Chapter 1 Visions

Chapter 1 Visions

I am worthless. Alone. Never noticed. Never loved. I blend in, with my straggly red hair tucked up into my hood and my ragged jeans hanging down by my shoes. I walk slowly, looking down at the floor, ashamed to show my face. But some people do notice me, and comment on my unwashed greasy hair. They say that I smell, and that is why I keep my head down. Whenever they speak, my blood pumps faster and my cheeks turn hot. I dig my nails into my sweaty palms and keep walking; trying to ignore them. One upon a time I would wonder why people weren’t noticing and telling someone about them. Then I realised they didn’t care. Nobody did. Just like my parents didn’t. I have nightmares every night about them, how they used to hit me and lock me in my room for days. They would give me no food, just a small glass of water that would be next to me when I woke up. Sometimes I wouldn’t drink it, because I was scared that they had poisoned it. I would wonder if one day they would lock me in my room, leave the house, and never come back, so I would be stuck here forever with no escape. I only had one small window, but it was high up the wall and far too small for me to fit through. I would turn up at school with large purple bruises dotted all over my back; that’s the only place my parents ever beat me. People must have seen them when we got changed for sport, but if someone did they never told anybody.

I ran away just over a year ago; just never came back from school one day. I go to public school, so I can still remain going here. I don’t see much point in it, but I go anyway. My parents didn’t bother looking for me when I didn’t come back, I never heard anything from them and nobody has spoken to me since. They were the only people I ever spoke to before, but that was never often. I could never puzzle out why they had children; they both had criminal records, and my dad had been in prison before. They were not caring people at all, and I would have thought that the social services would get involved, but they didn’t. That’s because I’m invisible to everyone. I blend in. unnoticed.

Every day I walk through the park, and sit under the same tree. It’s my tree, the large willow on the left. I sit there while it gets dark, watching the adults trying to drag their wining small children into the car to get home. Sometimes they have picnics, and once, a small boy wandered up to me and asked my name. Before I could reply his mother came up, took him by the hand and pulled him away, giving me a disapproving look while doing so. I thought that was unfair. What did I ever do to them? Maybe they are scared of me – the people: I’m always alone, with grub all over my face, wearing the same dull clothes. When everyone has gone I curl up, dig my nails into the dirt, and scrunch up my eyes; I am scared of falling asleep; of drifting into the dark place where I keep falling and never stop. Where I’m always tired and see everyone’s faces staring at me, taunting me. When I sleep they beat me; hitting me with everything they have, and I can’t escape. I am stuck in my room with the window I can’t get out of.