I'm not exaggerating when I say the screams cut through you like a knife, they actually hurt. And the thing is, you can't get back to sleep because you're waiting for the next ear piercing invasion.
I hate early mornings at the best of times, but dark winter one's when you've been kept awake most of the night by screaming are the worst!
Last night I timed one; it lasted for three minutes and six seconds. Imagine having to listen to a pained wailing scream that's sustained for that long; it's a living nightmare.
Oh, I'm Dane, by the way.
Let me introduce myself formally.
• Dane Lane. Yep, it rhymes, my mum fancied herself as a bit of a poet.
• Age: 16
Bright, but disruptive, with behavioural problems.
I've put that last bit in italics because they're not my words. Nope, they belong to my teacher's.
I'm not bad, I just get bored. And when I'm bored I start chatting to whoever's sitting next to me in class. So, they've labelled me disruptive and other stuff.
But you know what, I don't care, I go with the flow. The authorities have said I'll benefit from one–on–one teaching. So they've taken me out of school and a tutor teaches me in my local Library.
My tutor's legit; we do fifteen minutes of work then five minutes of banter. It works well for me, so the school can give me all the labels they want if it means keeping this arrangement.
Anyway, back to the screaming.
It's affecting my dad real bad. He lost his job as a bus driver a year ago and he's struggling to get another one. Mum says, "His spirit is broken."
Right now I'm looking at him holding his mug of tea like it's keeping him alive.
He looks tired and old and my heart hurts for him "Chin up dad," I say.
When he looks at me, I see the rings around his eyes are darker, "This can't go on son; how am I supposed to get a new job when sleepless nights are making me look like a zombie down the Job Centre?"
I try to be positive, "It's the first of February tomorrow, it'll all be over soon, you know that, dad," I say.
He shakes his head and ruffles his hair, "It goes on until the end of February. It's the same every year and nobody does nothing about it." He stands up, "Even when you recorded it and played it to the council, they said it wasn't their problem." He shakes his head again, "They all sat there, listening to those screeching screams and nodded their heads, "Not our problem guv!"
I can see him getting more agitated and it worries me. He heads for the door, "It's time to take the law into my own hands," he says, rushing for the door.
"Dad, leave it, come back, PLEASE!" I shout after him. But my words do no good, when dad's determined there's no stopping him.
I finish my cereal and feel relieved that mum didn't witness that outburst. She works in Gregg's, the bakery. My two younger sisters are at school; the youngest one cries when she sees that dad is sad and upset.
My family, the lanes, worry about our dad.
###
"You look tired," says my tutor when I sit down.
"You look old," I say back.
She points to the door, "Go back out there, throw off that attitude and come back in again," she says.
