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Kicked out at 12 (Part 2)

There I am, staring out of the car window, raindrops trickling down the glass, each following the pathways created for them before being rebellious and going their own way, creating new pathways for other raindrops to go down.
I was listening to sad emo songs so of course, I felt like I was in a music video. Staring wistfully out of the windows watching the grey skies connect with the muted green countryside as they whizzed by before my eyes. "Why the fuck are you such an idiot, Rorz?" I repeated over and over in my head. I knew it was a bad idea to skip school but noooo I had to act all big and cool. Now look where it's got me: in a dismal car taking me to an unknown place where I would be confined to the house and the house alone. No going out, having fun or interesting conversations just a lot of tutting, arguments and disappointed glances. What a fantastic way to start the summer, ey.

Days pass by and eventually all merge into one. I wander aimlessly around the estate when everyone is out listening to angry screamo music. My birthday rolls around and we don't do anything. Everyone was out working and I was left on my own for the majority of the day. That's when it all really hit home like I was sat alone on my thirteenth birthday, no friends or family around. Just me. I couldn't help but cry a little. I asked my mum if we could go back to wales because it was my birthday and she said yes. I had one last chance to prove I wasn't a complete fuck up and if I passed the test I could stay in Wales to live again.

It was a sunny day and I met my friends in town, a few of them had bought me presents which made my heart smile from artery to artery lol and we were just fucking about - all was well once more. I even stole one of those plastic adverts that are stuck to trolleys because I wanted to remember the day (I'm a massive hoarder if you haven't guessed) it got to around 6pm and I had to head home, that was the agreement. I could go out but had to be back by six. At the time, I thought it was ridiculous like I wasn't a baby yanno? Looking back I still don't agree with the 6pm curfew but I wanted to live back in Wales so I obliged and stuck to the rules for once in my life.

I had asked my Nan if I could stay at my friend's house and she had said yes! She rang my friend's mum and confirmed everything with her and I was over the moon. I had told my Nan I was going to CCYP to meet my friend and we would be back at her house by 9pm latest and she said that was fine. The day finally rolled around, I was looking forward to it because I was only allowed out once a week and had to be in by 6pm so being able to STAY OUT with my friends was like a dream come true lol how sad anyway, I got myself up and ready and thought I'd beset ring my nan to remind her cause I know how she is - couple bottles of wine and she forgets everything yanno so I rang her up and she said yeah that's fine she's spoken to my friends mum so it's all okay. I smiled from ear to ear, said thanks and went to catch the bus.

It was another scorching day and we were playing pool in CCYP and just generally hanging about having a laugh until I hear a BUZZZ - BUZZZ - It's my phone. My Granddad. I answer "Hello"
 I'm instantly met with "Where are you?! We told you you wasn't allowed out today!"
Confused I replied with "But I rang nan an hour ago and she said it was fine.. I'm staying at my friends house tonight nan's spoke with her mum and everything!"
"NO YOU'RE NOT! WE'RE ON OUR WAY TO GET YOU!" my Granddad bellows down the phone.
Rage builds up inside, rising from my toes to my mouth and I scream "Yes I fucking am" and hang up the phone hastily.

I knew they would be on their way to find me, so I sat anxiously with my friends, trying to make light of the situation but I knew in my gut I was going back and living with my mum at the end of the week. I fucked it and it wasn't even my fault. I had walked on egg shells since I got there and my nan had to fuck it up for me. Obviously I know now it was probably best for me but I still stand by the fact I wasn't actually in the wrong that time and as a grown adult I would hold my hands up and say so if that was the case. next thing I know my grandad is inside CCYP scouting the place looking for me, I bolt it out of the fire doors and try and hide around the corner, knowing my nan would be in the van out front. My grandad comes out, see's me and tried to force me back home. I refuse and he tells me not to bother coming back then. I'm going to live with my mum and that'll be that. I tell him Id rather go in a care home under the impression it would be like tracy beaker and he storms off.

Hours go by and it's pretty much the same story as the last except a friend says I can stay at hers, I wasn't staying at my other friends house now because I knew my nan and grandad would be there, so we grabbed a bottle of cider and walked up to hers. We bumped into a few friends and they said the police was looking for me. I'd apparently been reported missing or something? I was very confused and stated "Missing? but I'm right here.. what?!" and I thought well you have to be gone more than a day for the police to look for you but hey ho maybe I'm wrong or it was different 8 years ago?

We arrive at my friends house and start the party - my grandparents didn't know about this friend so there'd be no way they'd look for me here - I don't really know what was going through my head at this point, maybe I was just trying to prolong moving to England and trying to have one last GOOD night out with my friends before it all changed. We were playing drinking games and the more I drank, the stronger the niggley feeling in my stomach became. I knew what I was doing was wrong: I've never been a malicious person, I've always cared more about others than myself and would never hurt anyone. But at the same time I'm very stubborn and if I know I'm right which I was then I will stick to my guns and not back down.

Time passes and it must be around midnight/one in the morning and there's a knock on the door. I freeze up and hide in the bedroom. I heard through the door "Hiya, is Arora there?" obviously my friends were only 12/13 so they were lie "uhh.. yeah.. I'll grab her now" mouthing "sorry" to me as they came and got me from the bedroom. There they stood, in the pissing down rain, the light from the house illuminating their faces. They looked both royally pissed off and disappointed. The worst combination in my eyes. "Get in the car" they commanded. I grabbed by stuff and sheepishly walked to the car, saying bye to my friends, knowing I wouldn't see them for a very long time.

It's dark and the rain is tapping on the window panes which is making me more upset. The whole atmosphere is dismal and the weather outside matches it. It's silent in the car until an angry "I will never trust or love you again" fills the empty space, lingering in the air. Burning my soul deep like a branding rod engraving livestock. A singular tear trickles down my face and I tell myself "Don't cry Arora, you're stronger than that. Fuck it."

Read Part 1 here

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