Jon's Story -- The Extended Version

 

Michael J Hudston 2007

 

All my stories are works of fiction. Any similarities to anyone living or dead are purely coincidental. My stories are intended for a mature audience. It may contain profanity and references to gay sex. If this offends you, tough luck, you are welcome to find something more to your tastes to read.

As the author I maintain and retain all rights
to all my stories. All constructive comments are welcome, including any story ideas - please submit them via my website, where all my stories can be seen. 

http://www.michaelhudston.co.uk/

Chapter 1 - Goodbye to the Old. Hello to the New.

 

Hi my name is Jon. It is January 1985 and I'm suddenly looking for a new home. I'm 14 years old, and my parents have decided they cannot look after me and the other 7 children together. Two of us have to leave. My eldest sister is 18 and leaving home anyway, my two older brothers earn a lot of money for the household so I they won't leaving any time soon. That meant I was the next logical choice to be kicked out. All the younger siblings are too young to be fending for themselves. But then I would have thought I was as well.

I'm 14 and they have just kicked me out on the streets in this city, with nowhere to go. No money, no good bye, nothing. It's not that I had a close relationship with my parents, in fact my father used to beat me at any opportunity, to remind me what a burden I was on the family. In fact he beat me last night and my head still hurts quite bad, and I know I have a black eye and it is swollen.

Why was I a burden, and none of the others? I do odd jobs for the neighbours, and give the money to the family like my brothers did before me. None of my younger siblings worked, but then they were too young, yet they were not the burden, I was. Why, what did I do wrong that has made them treat me so.

Well at least on the streets my father can't hurt me anymore, I won't be covered in bruises any longer. I still have the fresh ones that are appearing after the beating last night. I still don't know what I did to deserve such a beating, especially as I had just handed over the five pounds I had been given for cleaning my next door neighbour's windows.

I didn't even get a thank you from my parents, my Dad just took the money, and as usual my mum ignored me. So when my Dad walked in to the bedroom I shared with my two younger brothers, whilst I was doing my school homework, and just started beating me again. He hadn't beaten me that hard in months. Then at 8 o'clock this morning he kicked me out, and told me, never to come home.

I was angry. Angry that I did as much as I was capable of for the family, whilst still trying to better myself, and they do that to me. I worry about what my two younger brothers are going to face in a few years, when they hit 14, that is, if he has not started hitting them already, I've seen Jake, who was only 12 now, with a black eye, more than once. He said he got into a fight at school, but I'm not convinced of that.

So what should I do. Who should I tell, where shall I sleep, how will I eat.

Without realising I've walked into the centre of the city. I'm just aimlessly wandering around. Then I see him. A policeman, walking down the street towards me. That's it, that's what I am going to do, I'm gonna tell the police that he has been abusing me, and then kicked me out.

Dam my head is really hurting and my vision is blured. Ignoring that I walk right up to the policeman and speak to him.

"Excuse me I..." Before I could finish, I collapsed.

I don't know how much later it was, but I suddenly wake up. I'm in a bed, in a room with other beds, and there is a policeman sat in the chair next to me.

"What happened?, Where am I?"

"Hello young man, I'm Pc Schofield, you collapsed right in front of me in the street this morning. It looks like you have taken quite a beating from someone."

Then I remembered, I was about to tell the police about my father. My anger returned.

"Oh that. Yea my father did this to me last night. It's not the first time, but this was the last, he kicked me out this morning. I don't want to go back there."

"When I saw you in the street this morning, I was going to tell you, so you could help me. My name is Jon by the way."

I couldn't believe that I wasn't even upset, or crying. I had just admitted to a policeman, that I was being physically abused, and I felt nothing. That was it I felt nothing at all, no emotion, no joy, no tears, just nothing. I just lay there.

"I'm not sure what I can do to help, but the police doctor along with the regular staff here, have taken pictures. I need to take a formal statement, and I will get social services, see if we can get you a foster home, or somewhere to live, where you will be safe."

I ignored him, I just lay there. I'm not sure how long I did so, until I heard a soft voice.

"Hello Jon."

I looked up. It was a woman I didn't know.

"Hello. Who are you?"

"I'm Ellen, I am a social worker. I've been assigned to your case. I've found you a place to stay, with a Small family. A mother and her daughter, who are quite well known and influential in the area. You will be well treated by them. You won't be going back to your former family anytime soon. And we are looking into removing your two younger brothers and sister too."

"How do you know so much about me? "

"Your eldest sister went into a police station this morning, apparently she heard what happened last night, and confronted your family this morning. She then reported you missing at roughly the time you collapsed in the street. She has been to see you but you were sleeping.

"Is she still here?"

"No she went with the policeman who was here earlier to give a statement, she said she would return though. I think she would be glad to see that you are ok. I think she is ashamed of what had been happening to you, and that she didn't stop it sooner."

*****

I was in the hospital for a week, before the doctor said I could leave. During that time I had met the woman who would be looking after me.

Her name was Wendy, although I thought I should call her Mrs Wilson, as that is the way I have always been told to address your elders and betters. When you had a father like mine, you did as you were told.

Mrs Wilson had been introduced by Ellen, a few days earlier, and now she was here to take me to my new home.

When we got to my new home, I was surprised how big it was. A large two story house with five bedrooms, set in almost three acres of grounds, surrounded by a forest. The only access was via the single track road that led from the main road, through the forest, directly to the gate of the property.

It was secluded and quite, not what I was used to at all. But this was what I had dreamed my Ideal home would be like.

"Wow" was all I could say. I was speechless.

"Wow Indeed. I live here with my daughter Emma, and we occasionally get a visit from my Son Elliot who is in the Army."

"Just the two of you live here?" I asked. It seemed a big house for just two people.

"Yes, but that is now going to be three with you joining us, and four when Elliot is home".

"I'm not used to so much room."