I particularly wanted to write for 'Voice' due to it personal meaning. Yes, this piece is autobiographical.
When the man from social services turned up at the door we
thought the Johnson’s over the road must have called them, although the report
of hearing a child screaming ‘leave me alone’ had been wrong – no one had been
screaming that.
He asked to see all the children, so our stepfather lined us all up prim and proper in the huge entrance hall with its high polished wooden parquet flooring. And I kept quiet that it had been me screaming ‘leave mummy alone.’ But the man wasn’t convinced and asked to see our mother too, knowing there was more this story.
My stepfather called her, and I didn’t turn round as she came downstairs sporting the split lip she’d received that morning.
The man didn’t speak, he just wrote in his notebook and left, my stepfather following suit half an hour later, bringing an end to the nightly terrors.
He asked to see all the children, so our stepfather lined us all up prim and proper in the huge entrance hall with its high polished wooden parquet flooring. And I kept quiet that it had been me screaming ‘leave mummy alone.’ But the man wasn’t convinced and asked to see our mother too, knowing there was more this story.
My stepfather called her, and I didn’t turn round as she came downstairs sporting the split lip she’d received that morning.
The man didn’t speak, he just wrote in his notebook and left, my stepfather following suit half an hour later, bringing an end to the nightly terrors.
150 Words
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