Chapter 1
Hey, I'm Ashley Turner, but everyone calls me Ash. So, this is a story about my life, and how I came to be who I am. It all started in a care home in Suffolk.
I turn up to the blazing red door, angry and refusing to cry. My care worker Warren, staggered uneasily carrying my two identical suitcases. A smiley face of a young woman was waiting patiently for us. I deliberately walked slower and took a good look at the front garden. A couple of old oak trees, perfect for climbing, two broken wooden swings hanging off one, a tiny vegetable plot with barely anything growing, a beautiful flower patch and a field peeping through the trees with a few well built ponies grazing silently. The house itself was large and posh, and had honey suckle drooping down from the higher windows.
"Ash! Come and meet Sally. Shes the social worker that runs this place. Come on, stop lagging behind!" urged Warren. I glared at him and sighed rudely. Sally held out her hand for me to shake but I ignored it and walked through the hallway. It was very grand with red swirly wallpaper and a gold frame around a huge mirror. A colossal chandelier hung above my head with sparkling diamonds glittering in the sunlight.
"Its pretty amazing, don't you think? Let me show you your room." Sally tried to be kind but I snatched away from her grasp. She led me and Warren up the wide, winding stairs to three corridors with rooms leading off to the right and left. I suddenly found myself in a large room with beige wallpaper. Three shelves were nailed above a computer on a light brown wooden desk and a stylish black chair.
It was alright, better than I imagined what a care home would be like. I'd watched too many Tracy Beakers, with the smashed windows, small house and a slightly chavvy care worker. Sally seemed quite posh, I don't know why she would want a huge beautiful house full of abandoned kids to be honest. I turned round. Sally and Warren were gone, left me alone in this strange home where I couldn't escape until I was 18. Great.
