House parties, psh, what’s the point, full of fake people who just want a drink and to get some free food, cheeky bastards. Either that or I’m just really anti social, ha it’s probably that, I can’t be blamed, they push me away like we don’t even know each other.’Family’.

It seemed my family wanted me to go, not that I liked them anyway, they always assumed I was popular I mean who in their right mind would think a black haired, Goth child would be popular, although they may just be putting it on, trying to act as if I’m popular to give them self some hope to say they haven’t failed in life.

My father turned up, it was more awkward then fun, he was a 6ft big build blonde haired beach b” and my mum was 46 year old drunk women at a party this wasn’t going to end well. I sat in my bedroom with a bit of cake and a drink all night, I thought I might take a trip and walk down the hall towards the steps and I could see my drunken mum dancing away, then They start kissing, it was vaulting, he picked her up and started walking her to the stairs, I tip toed back to my abode.

Several minutes have passed and I start hearing slaps and sobbing, I know what’s going on but as usual I’m too much of a wimp to do anything, I wonder for a few seconds and I catch the view of my packed bag in the corner of the room. With tears in my eyes I grab my coat, run down stairs get a few bottles of water, lace my shoes up and back to my room in all under two minutes.

The house was still full of ‘party animals’ and with tears running down my face now I didn’t want to go through them or for anyone to see me at all. I pack a radio and some spare batteries, along with my flick knife and some food. I didn’t want to go without leaving my mum something so I wrote on a piece of paper saying ‘see you on the other side’.

Then I opened my window hopped out and was on my way.
I woke up in the forest around two miles away from my house, I woke up feeling refreshed and free, which hasn’t been my emotions in a long while. I turn my radio on and sit up against a tree, the wind whistles past my air and I can get a faint smell of autumn. I fall into a relaxed mood which is then broken by a bbc radio talk host who reports of a boy missing, I shudder at the thought of being ‘missing’, the thought of people not knowing where I am, it gives me a buzz.

I thought I might as well keep walking and watching and waiting for something exciting to happen, something to take away all the pain and hatred I have for my father.

My father’s name is jack, jack chikly, he’s never really been there for me he just comes and goes when he feels so and never says hello, and as you have probably guessed hes abusive, how dare he lay a finger upon my mother who does he think he is, bloody goon, and my mother does nothing, nothing at all. One day he will get his up and coming, I will not let an indecent and selfish man walk around this earth touching whoever he feels like.
It’s dark. I’m still trekking through the forest trying to find somewhere to sleep. I’m on high alert, any noise or movements sends my head on the point like a laser. i see someone on the road, well an outline at least, I grasp my flick knife. The figure starts approaching, I get scared, don’t think, i pull out my knife while i flick it out and thrust, stabbing and stabbing until blood runs up my sleeve.
That’s when it all began.