The many walk ways my life has travelled...

From the beginning...Pt 1

Well I guess my life has been a mass of contradictions.. So where do I start ??.. I can hear you say .. the beginning is as good a place as any, probably the most logical but its such sad and sorry tale I find myself almost reluctant to tell it , I wonder how I will be judged ?? .. needless to say there is a beginning and to start elsewhere would not give you the reader any background. Raised by my grandparents from the age of 2, I was not a very well liked child, a little bit chubby and certainly not a timid child, precocious they would say, cheeky and insolent and in fact I would even go as far as to say I was an aggravation, a disturbance and a thorn in the somewhat tough hide of my grandparents lifestyle. I did try to get their attention though and unfortunately, attention I did attract. Being quite a naughty child I would find myself on the wrong side of my grandfathers belt more often than not ... but did I learn ?.. well the answer to that is a simple no , I just became more defiant the older I became. At my age 9 my grandfather passed away, cancer of the liver and kidneys so I have been told in later years though of course I was not to know this at that time and my life took a startling turn for the worse .. until this point I had been reasonably secure in my tenure in the household with only the occasional beating from my father who would call in and take me with him to the pub where I would sit in the car waiting for hours on end until he came out with a skin full of liquor. At this point I believe he would take his frustrations out on this wayward child for the sin of looking like my mother whom I had been told had run away with her lover shortly before I was 2, and of course anything else which was not going right in his life at that time. Being quite used to this treatment I was also quite prepared to minimise the damage he would attempt to inflict in me by curling up in a ball in the car and being very stil and quiet.. this was just a fact of life in my miserable existence. After my grandfathers demise I found I was alone with a grandmother who was severely lacking in maternal instinct .. possibly because she had done her time, raising 7 children of her own and really did not want to be troubled with this impudent child .. quite rapidly she began to deteriorate mentally in front of my eyes and at age 10 I found I was tired of looking for the non-existant ration book just so I could eat and leaving her to dwell in her war years memories which constantly invaded our lives I went to work, part-time in a fish and chip shop.. this was not to bad , money for food, school when I had to go, though playing ''catch me if you can''.. with the truant officer was entertainment that was invaluable and a souce of ongoing almost daily amusement. Needless to say education was the furtherest thing from my thoughts and the loss of it would not be mourned until I reached mature age. And so on my life plodded for a period of time, until at some point I began to realise that the abuse I was enduring was not something I was prepared to continue experiencing and with a great deal of planning I prepared to run away and find my fortune, an adventure that would see me move 1200 miles, hitch hike across country, travel on trains overnight, steal clothing from clothes lines and finally get a job in a plastics factory.. all before the grand old age of 12. This was when it all went pear shaped , you see I had always been a tall girl rather mature looking and carried my age and years 'plus' rather well so convincing others I was much older was never a problem, unfortunately a very astute older woman in the plastics factory became very suspicious of me and reported her suspicions to the authorities, at the same time much to my total disgust my father had reported me as missing, of course as all loving devoted fathers would do , excuse the heavy dose of cynicism ...needless to say I remained free for only a short time after this and was promptly taken into protective custody by the locally well esteemed police force .. and thus began my time spent in a home for wayward girls called Bethleham.............

Feel free to leave a comment especially if you can relate your childhood to mine ..

Part Two begins with 'My time in Bethleham'

(C) Ceeceecross

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