Part 13 - Out On My Own

"House Of Cards" - Madina Lake

It was, what you’d call, sheltered housing for young people. At seventeen years old, there isn’t a lot of options for someone who has no money, and doesn’t want to live with their parents. So, the citizens advice bureau told my teachers about this house in a town near by my home town, where young people in this position, could share a large house, a bit like a dorm. There were eight rooms, and we came and went as we pleased. But there was a house manager on site, to cook for us, and try to maintain some organisation, and not let the place go to total chaos. You could live there if you were aged between sixteen and twenty-four, and when I got there, those was only three other people living in the place (not counting the house manager, Louise*), and it had been that way for a while, so it was pretty quiet.

There was me, two other girls, and a young lad, who didn’t actually spend much time in the house. We would eat a meal together once a day, at a dinning table (something I had rarely done by this point), and after a while, we all started to bond, and it almost felt like a family of sorts, with Louise being the over-bearing Mother, shouting at us that we weren’t to say the C word at the dinner table.

I continued going to school, and stuck at it this time (surely a good use of my fairly high intelligence), although I now had to go by bus everyday, back to my home town. I occasionally saw my Mom, and once me and my Dad had reconciled, I even went to stay at their house at weekends. They have moved during this time, but only to the other side of town, and to a much smaller house, now there was only to two of them, and our first family dog (Dog Number 1).

Whilst settling into the house, I was still in firm touch with my ex-boyfriend who had by this time departed our home town for a career in the Army. Our changing circumstances began to dawn on us, and we looked for comfort and security in each other. After approximately eight months as great friends, but only that, we re-instigated our relationship, and although it was a long distance relationship, it was the main thing that kept me grounded. His major rule during this time, and something he would check on when he was home, was that I was to stop cutting, and should I resume, the relationship would be instantly over. Emotional blackmail, yes, but it did work for a while.

The stability wasn’t to remain, and soon new kids started moving into the house. My new family, was made up largely, of people with little education, and terribly starts in life. Some had been in and out of care institutions most of their lives, and had turned to alcohol and drugs to help them overcome the difficulties they faced in life. I grew close to one of the boys that had arrived about three months after me, at the house, and we took to drinking in the local clubs and pubs for a vast amount of our time.

I decided that this was probably the right time to finally leave school, although I did originally believe that I would continue my schooling after a few months break. I was going through a time of such enormous upheaval, that the last thing it felt right to be doing, was heading into school every day. Especially when my housemates cared nothing for education, and were at home having fun all day.

Louise tried to discourage me. She was an educated girl herself, with a university degree. She had however found her religious calling, and now earned a living by caring for a rabble of dysfunctional young adults. She was deeply religious, and this was the reason she took a certain path in life, but she never forced religion on any of us, and I cared deeply for her. She often said that she liked having someone around the house, with my background (one that was petty secure compared to a lot of the others living in the house), as I mostly served as the go-between between her, and my other housemates. I related the rules in a language, much more understood by them, than Louise ever could.

My drinking was steadily getting worse, and I would often spend my evening either hung-over from the night before, or out drinking with Phillip, the fellow I mentioned earlier. One night, whilst extremely drunk, we kissed, and although I found comfort in his friendship, I was devastated that I had crossed that line. My relationship with my boyfriend was the thing I lived for, but with only a rare and short visit to look forward to, I was lonely, and ready to be single, and live my youth. Play the field if you will. I didn’t take this view when drunk though. I rushed out of the club, went back to the house, and trashed my room. I mean mirrors, glass, light bulbs, and even my beloved guitar. I also cut for the first time in months.

Louise, having keys to all the rooms in the house (for emergencies), let herself into my room, and held me, as I roared my eyes out, until I finally passed out. God bless that woman. She was always there for any of us when we needed help, and I will never be able to thank her enough for everything she did for us all.

The next day, I knew that everything had changed. I would have to confess to my boyfriend. I knew the relationship would be over (the proof was right down my arms), but for me, my wild years were only just beginning.