The Fight For Love

Chapter 1-Perfectly lonely?

I was born in the arms of imaginary friends

Free to roam, made a home out of everywhere I've been.

Then you come on crashing in, like the realest thing. 

Sometimes the moment you first meet someone can be beautifully turbulant.. 

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            For as long as he could remember Jake Collins had been a victim. A target for bullies, or indeed anyone who could sense his vulnerability. From the tender age of five he was mocked and teased for his girlish looks. His glittering blue eyes occupied most of his pale white face, he had a mop of blonde curls and freckles dotted his face.

His cheeky smile and doting dimples could melt even the coldest of hearts. Unfortunately for Jake these heart warming good looks had earned him the nickname "goldilocks", by not only the neighbouring children, who excluded him from their games, but Jake's own father.  

       Jake was a caring, sensitive boy. The complete opposite of his father, Ben Collins, a retired army officer. Ben was short fused and hot headed. The definition of 'macho'  There was one particular incident in Jake's childhood that still makes him cringe to the very day.

He had innocently asked to play with a group of boys, who looked like they were having fun in the park near his house. When he realised that they were making 'mud pies' he shly changed his mind. He quietly told the boys that he didn't want to dirty his clothes. The boys scoffed at him .

 "Only little girls don't like getting dirty! goldilocks," shouted one cruel boy.

 The next thing Jake knew he was covered in mud from head to toe.  Tears spilled down his cheeks as he sprinted home, followed by the cruel mimicking chants of the boys,  "goldilocks gold-i-locks!" Jake cried as his mother Karen consoled him. He never forgot his fathers harsh words;

"Ha! goldilocks that's a good one. That's what I get for havin' a son who looks like a six year old girl. Karen, you need to cut that boys hair. Now listen here boy, stop your cryin' real men don't cry!"

        From that day on Jake never told his parents about the teasing, which progressively got worse as he got older. He told his mother once or twice but the pain in her eyes became too much for him to bear. Though he was only young, he hated breaking her heart.

There was no point in telling his father, who would snidely tell him to "quit bein' a damn baby."  So naturally he suffered on in silence. His only hope was that school would be different. He desperately longed for a friend.

       Of course school became the centre of all his tortures. It was the start of a long road of physical and mental abuse. He was often the victim of excruciating "chinese burns" unmerciful kicks blows, pushes, shoves and bruises. The list was endless. Sometimes he was even spat at.

 It was during this unbearable lonely period that Jake found comfort and solace from books. They became his friends in a way, after he had reluctantly accepted that he would never have any real ones of his own. Even the teachers scolded Jake for telling tales and being an all familar 'cry baby.' He loved escaping into the world of an exciting book, where he could go on fearless adventures with the main characters.

   Books became his escape from loneliness and from pain. They were his security blanket. He never went anywhere without one permanently attached to his side, tucked away safely under his left arm.  All through his primary school days from the age of five until twelve, Jake shied away every lunch time in the coat room with his beloved books.