Love offenders

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A/n None of this book so far has been edited so far.

Chapter one

Youth offenders was what the black bold writing read ahead of me, the letters fading from years of abuse. My mother was as hard as stone next to me the car humming with life beneath us. I see her eyes in the rear view mirror, wrinkled with lines of stress and crying; they were lifeless now, not one speck of life in the dull green eyes that used to be so radiant. She was nothing like she used to be. The woman beside me was withering away, her skin shallow and slack, auburn hair turning grey – she blamed it all on me, I was the reason she was like this. What I ought to have done was the cause.

“I think it’s time you left.” Voice as cold as a bucket of water on a winters day, I turn around and stare at her for the first time in two months, it was a weird sensation seeing her with my own eyes rather from a reflection.

“Mum please don’t do this to me, I told you, I didn’t do it.” Her lips stay as straight as a ruler, twitching ever so slightly. She didn’t believe a word of what I had said and that was the worst part, your own mother couldn’t believe you. She doesn’t utter another word and the fury in my stomach that had been growing slowly over the last two months, boils hotter inside me. I just needed – wanted to know that everything would be okay, that she would sort this out personally and most of all that she would believe me. “Mum,” I whisper out, scared she won’t reply. Her posture shakes slightly and I can feel agitation roam around her. “Say something – anything – Just – say – something!” I could tell my voice was rising with every word but I just needed to get it out, I needed to here that loving voice she once spoke, but as I ponder over it I realise she hadn’t changed in the last two months, it had been longer than that.

“What do you want me to say Lily? You’ve ruined my life and saying goodbye to you will be the best thing I have done in the last couple of months.” Tears brim my eyes, the words stung right to the core it wasn’t what I had wanted her to say, though I had expected this, I guess I was just wishing I was wrong. I can see her hands go to push me out but at the last moment she pulls back if I was invested with a deadly disease, a tear rushes down my face at the fact my mother couldn’t even touch me. Knowing I could do no more to change her mind, I get out of the car slowly and shut the door too. The winter wind blows around me lifting my mousey brown hair up, revealing the bruises around my neck. I grab my scruffy gym bag from the boot and as I walk past the car the sound of the window winding down makes me look back. “Oh Lily, one last thing,” Says my mother a small smile on her lips which seemed to cause her great pain. “Rot in hell.” She drives off spraying the grey dusty stones in a flurry. I cough as another tear streaks down my face, I was going to rot in hell. I walk the short distance to the entrance, and as I reach it I stop in front of five grey steeps. I wipe my tears knowing I couldn’t show weakness in a place like this. I walk the steps slowly waiting out my time, a new thought occurred in my head with every step I took – would I survive in a place like this? – Would my mother come and visit? – Would they realise I didn’t do it? – What if they didn’t? – Could I serve nearly a whole life sentence?

I reach the wooden arched door and as I breathe deeply I shred away all those unwanted thoughts and open the door. A few feet in front was a middle aged African American woman, which was talking on the phone in a kinky voice to what I suppose was a lover she wasn’t meant to be calling. Her rose pink blouse was the only thing bright in the room, dreadlocks surround her plump shoulders and as she looks up at my arrival she quickly whispers a goodbye. As she turns back around I can see the friendly face vanish into one of disgust.

“Name?” Her thick accent pools out. After a few minutes I find my voice and gulp uneasily.

“Lily June Anderson.” I feel a pang of sadness as I say my mother’s name – June, I realise soon enough that I needed to forget about her no matter how hard it would be. The secretary’s brown coconut eyes rise from the white sheet of paper in front of her and if so her face got even colder.

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