One Fake Smile

It was a lifeless night as I slept lightly, suddenly aware of the commotion outside my bedroom window I jolted upright. I never really was a heavy sleeper unlike my brothers. Luckily Callum and Dylan were sound asleep in the other room, blissfully unaware of the all the danger lurking outside.

I got up from my bed and made my way towards my window ledge, being a small, under-weight girl at the age of 4, you can fit in many places that others cannot. The light post dimly lit up the street outside allowing me to slightly see the disturbances without actually understanding what was happening, although I doubt I would fully understand what was happening even if I had complete sight of the street below.

My family and I were that of 5, with an extension of 3. It included my mother Jean, my father Leon, my brothers Dylan, who at the time was only 11 months and Callum who was 5 months and myself, Hannah.

I can't really say I had a bad upbringing but I definarely didnt havé a good one either. But I guess as a young child you are just happy with what you havé because no one judge's you or criticizes. But at the young age of 5 my life was far off normal I just didnt realise until it all turned sour.

My life wasn't perfect to begin with. It never was and never will be but I never allowed myself to think anything less of myself or my family no matter what position I was in.

My childhood was one of the best times of my life despite my reckless attitude towards anything good for me. But I had a loving family and many caring neighbors/friends in the same position as us and I wouldnt be who I am today without them.

My earliest memory is when I was around 4 and mum was looking after my brothers and I went out with my best friend. My best friend Jayde and her sister Chloe were the source of my happiness most of the times and we havé many great memories I lost contact with her at the age if 6 after a short time of 3 years when she moved away. Luckily after 1 and a half years I also moved and we regained contact and we still talk on occasion. But after what seemed like an eternity we never really connected again on the same level.

I managed to stumble around to the window sill and I sat there overlooking the street below. Luckily we lived in a quite culder sac with few houses. Suddenly a flash of blue and red followed by yelling and shouting. I watched in horror as 3 or 4 police cars drew up at a halt in front of our house. Just as quickly a s they stopped, they jumped out and tackled the fleeing man to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

As he tried to escape and run from harm's hands he was once again brought to the ground despite the size of the man. He then, out of self defence, attacked the officers. As I watched from high above by the window I was terriffied. But then suddenly, it's as if time slowed and the victim looked up glancing at my face. It was then that I realised that he was not just a stranger, he was my dad. As he was screaming obscenities it all sounded slurred and life sped by, I was in shock. Then to more distress my mother ran out of the house and being a loving wife she began to defend her husband swooping and swatting The officers before a younger female worker detained her. Mother then realised I was watching and ordered me back to bed while she struggled to get free and my father fought for his life.

"Leoooon!" she screamed dismissing all embarrassment.

He was then attacked by many of the officers and cuffed, before being put into the back off one of the station wagons. The car then drove off at high speed. Leaving mother now on the ground crying hysterically before I ran to her aid and joined her It wasnt until many years later that I was told why my father was taken that night.

It was around midnight before my mother stopped crying and regained control of her emotions. She sent me off to bed and then sat in the downstairs lounge room. A small, cramped, shabby room with very little furniture and old wooden floors. The walls were meant to be white but had over the years turned to a yellow grey colour. The very few pieces of furniture werent very decorative and were broken and damaged but still called it home. Despite me being the young child I helped my mother onto the couch and handed her the woolen blanket before going to retrieve a bag of vegetables for her I eye, which was already starting to bruise, I also gave her the first aid box and she swallowed 3 panadol before dressing her bleeding lip and nose and turned on the heater. I soon made my way up the stairs to my bed and tried to go to sleep but no matter how hard I tried I couldn't. The scene just kept playing in my mind over and over. That night when I finally fell asleep due to exhaustion I suffered chronic nightmares.

I am walking down a long road all alone at the age of 4 when suddenly it's a dead end and I start to panic I feel as if someone is chasing me. I see a small gap in the fence but I can't see what is on the other side. I crawl through the opening and find myself at a train station. I recognise the station as it is near my house. Then suddenly I see the person I can only describe him as tall and thin. I run for the elevator it is more rickety and unstable and as I go up it rocks back in forth with not so much as a bump. I finally reach the top and I run across the bridge to the other elevator and make my way down to the ground level. In the distance I see a train coming but no sooner is the man running for me. The train comes to a halt right in front of me but just as I go to jump I see the gap. It's about 3 meters wide but I try anyway but miss a fall but right before I hit the ground I wake up. I dont know how this relates to my experience but it started and continued that night and will for many years to come.