Trapped

I look to my left, there’s a building there. To my right there’s a fence. I slowly creep backwards, keeping the police ahead of me in my sight. Crash! I’ve tripped over someone’s dustbin. Looking behind, I see a wall, stretching high and tall… I look forward again, they’re getting closer. What can I do? There’s no way out! I’m trapped. And it’s all Mum’s fault.

My Mother was only sixteen when she fell pregnant with me. Her whole family rejected her which left her alone to bring me up. She had little money which left her bitter and cross with the world. When I think about my childhood all I can remember is anger, shouting, and of course, pain. Every Christmas was ruined, we had no family to visit so it was just me and her. I never got any presents but I always brought Mum a present. I would save up as much money as I could, hoping that I would buy the magical present that would end Mum’s anger. And when the clock ticked down the final seconds until the new year, I would say to myself, “This year is going to be different.” But it never was.

Mum kicked me out last year. I was only fourteen at the time. I had very little money so I tried to get a job but pretty much every potential employer looked at me, with my bony limbs and bruises all over from where I had been beaten and immediately rejected my application. The few that didn’t reject me based on appearances alone, wanted to know about my education. When I told them what school I had gone to, they couldn’t even look me in the eye as they said “I just don’t feel someone like you is suitable for this job.”

Someone like me! Just because my school was famous in our local area for being the “rough” school, where budding criminals went and where the standard of education was considered to be so low that we would have been better off having no education at all!

After a couple of days I had no money left at all. I was forced to resort to shoplifting to survive. It was my only way of getting food without unwanted attention. Sure, I could have tried begging instead but did I really want someone noticing my age and taking me to a children’s home? Of course I didn’t!

Up until now I had been quite good at shoplifting without anyone noticing me. I had managed to perfect a technique where I went in whilst the shopkeeper had popped out to get a coffee. I was in and out before he had returned. I usually managed to grab a couple of packets of crisps and an energy drink. If I was really lucky I could manage to get a hot sausage roll or a pie as well!

But today it all went wrong. I was in the shop for less than two minutes when I spotted the shopkeeper on his way back. I panicked and ran out. He started shouting and screaming at me to “get back here or I’m calling the police!” I ignored him and kept running, already I could hear that someone was talking to the police, “Yes, that’s right, she’s running away. Brown hair, average height, I’d say she looks about fifteen, maybe sixteen. She’s very thin and is wearing a dark blue hoodie and tattered jeans that are too small for her.”

I sprinted down the road. Behind me I could hear a siren and it was getting closer. I turned into an alley as I heard the police car stop. Tripping over a bin, I discovered I was trapped.

“Victoria Cassidy, we know it’s you. Give yourself up and we will do our best to give you the shortest sentence possible. You probably won’t even go to prison.”

It’s over. My whole life, ruined. There’s no point running anymore. I step forwards with my hands up to show I don’t have any weapons. They handcuff me and put me into the back of the car. The car drives off.

“Why me?” I think to myself, “Why did my life have to be so rubbish? All I’ve ever wanted is to have a loving mother and to fit in. Is that really too much to ask?”