You're The Reason That I Speak.

Trouble.

So, there you go, thats it, the start to this never ending spiral of hopelessness I have found myself in. So The first place I was taken to was a house called oak house, i'll tell you a little about it and what it was like having to live there?

firstly, it was so big, the outside looked as if it had just been painted there were no marks on it at all. I looked around a little before going in it had a play area and a grassy area which was all surrounded by a tall fence, meaning no getting out. The inside was painted in a deep but still bright red, it was even bigger than I had thought there was a huge stair case and a room as you walked in that lead to the kitchen. The living room was filled with all the other children, when I arrived they all ran out when they heard that I was here. They just looked at me, they didn't speak they just stared at me until they were told to say hello to me. The lady who was in charge - I found out that we all were to call her Jenny - she was nice to everyone and it seemed nice.

I always felt as if I didn't belong here. Obviously it was okay to start off with, everyone had to be nice. Once I had been there for about two months I felt like I had finally fitted in a little. After I had been there for five months things started to go down hill, the other children started to laugh at me and call me names. You see, ever since I was brought here I rarely spoke, but if I did speak I couldn't say sentences properly, I did try, I really ddi, I wanted to be able to speak like all of the other children, I just couldn't and I hated that I couldn't.

After a little while it all got too much, it was happening every single day. So I started to react to the things they would say, or do, to me because in my mind I thought that was the way I would be able to stop them, but the more I reacted to them the more they would continue doing it. I had been there roughly three and a half year, in that time I had to celebrate my sixth, seventh and eighth birthdays, without a family and without having grant here with me, I miss him. I had to have these birthdays here with people who didn't care if you lived or died. It was just a little after my eighth birthday when I got moved from Oak House.

I got moved because I pushed one of the boys who lived here down the main flight of stairs, now before you start thinking what type of person I must be, just take a moment to listen. The only reason that this happened was because he was making fun of me, by mocking the way that I was speaking by saying things like "Hi my n-n-n-name is S-ssc-c-ot-t n-nice to m-meet y-you" as you might guess all the other children laughed, why wouldn't they? After all its funny isn't it? Picking on someone for something that the cant help. I didn't think about what I had done, I didn't know that I could do something like that but it was like something had snapped, I was sick and tired of it all, every day having to wake up and come out of my room, that was a rule you see, you had to be out of your room and you had to be sat at the table eating. So I had to spend time with them. But I was in complete shock after I had seen what I had done to him, I tried to shut myself away but it was then that I was told that I had to go and you know what? I was laughed at some more. But I went, and in some ways I am glad that I did that, I'm glad that I pushed him, else I wouldn't have been able to get to here.

So within two days I had packed up my things and I was put in a car, being taken away to the next house. This one was called Alexander's house. It was closer to my ninth birthday when I was settling in here, but I didn't get the warmest of welcomes. I got a talk from Emma (the head care worker) about how violence is not tolerated and any sign of it will mean an instant move blah, blah, blah, you get the picture. She mentioned that I had two more chances before It was straight to a a young offenders institute, I remember being told that if i'm moved again, next house was my final chance and the fact that I am young will not make any difference to the sentence I have given to me.

This house was bigger than the last but it also had more children as well. I decided that I wasn't going to speak very much in this house. I knew that I would probably have people calling me names and pushing me, trying to get me to speak, but I know that they would just laugh at me if I did. I had been in this house for around three years and the name calling was less frequent than before. but it still happens sometimes, but the anger that I feel has gotten better, its not as bad, I am able to control it better now. At least I thought I was able to, I was doing well, until one day in the summer when everyone was playing football. It was then that I was pushed just a little too far. I don't really know what happened but it seems like my anger bubbled up so much that I couldn't control myself any more.