The House I Grew Up In

Willow Mathews

Description

A young teen girl has been admitted into a mental hospital after attempting suicide several times. The story starts to unfold with her gruesome world turning upside down because of her stepfather, Earl. Innocent lives are being taken as she is watching the supposed protectors turning into predators. Will her life turn to hope and better days, or will she decide one more time to take her last breath?

Informations

• Publié par: Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd
• Date de parution: 30 novembre 2020
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781398406735
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 2 Mo

Extrait

The House I Grew Up In
Willow Mathews
Austin Macauley Publishers
2020-11-30
The House I Grew Up In About the Author Dedication Copyright Information © Acknowledgement Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Epilogue
About the Author
Willow Mathews is a new author residing in Rumford, Maine, with her husband, daughter, and four pets. She grew up in a small town of Canton, Maine, where she learned to journal and write her emotions and feelings down on a subject that is happening all over the world.
Dedication
This dedication goes out to all victims and survivors of sexual abuse and human trafficking. I hope wherever you are, you read this book and realise you are not alone and there is always someone willing to listen.
Copyright Information ©
Willow Mathews (2020)
The right of Willow Mathews to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781398406728 (Paperback)
ISBN 9781398406735 (ePub e-book)
www.austinmacauley.com
First Published (2020)
Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd
25 Canada Square
Canary Wharf
London
E14 5LQ
Acknowledgement
Thank you Austin Macauley Publishers for taking a chance on my book. As a new author, I appreciate the opportunity.
Prologue
It is 9:00 am in the morning and I’m lying in a hospital bed with all these people coming in and out of my room. They are like a slide show going fast; they are taking my vitals, bringing me food, asking me if I’ve peed and how my stomach is. You’re probably going to ask why I’m in the hospital and why people are asking me questions. Why they’re doing all this necessary shit is beyond me. They should just let me die, that’s what I wanted.
I am a sixteen-year-old girl, and my life is meaningless. I’ve so much hurt and anger in me; I’ve seen so much and been through so much that I’m past help. “Aubrey, do you know why you’re here?” the woman asked.
“Yeah, I know why I’m here. I took a bottle of pills last night,” I said.
She shut the door behind her; she was wearing a blue leisure suit, black leather boots with a white crimson blazer. I had a 4-inch round table in my room with two chairs.
She had a seat with a briefcase on her lap, the whole time looking around the room, almost like she was scared to look me in the eyes from fear of what I might do. I’m not a murderer of people yet, just trying to rid myself of the world.
“I’m here to ask you some questions first, are you planning on doing something again?” she asked.
“Yes, I will!” I shouted. “I hate my fucking life!”
“Why, Aubrey, do you hate your life?” she asked with a question in her eyes as if I was going to tell her. If I don’t talk to my own mother about what’s going on with me, why would I talk to her?
“I’m not telling you shit, I don’t fucking know you and you really don’t give a shit; nobody does and I’m sick of my life, you send me home while I take a towel, tie a knot at the end of it, hang it from the bathroom ceiling and jump out the window. I’ve already cut myself on my arms, they bled sometimes but I’m still alive, aren’t I?” I said.
“So, what do you think we should do Aubrey, what would be the best place for you to be?” she asked.
“How the fuck should I know? I’m not stable right now about any decisions in my life obviously,” I said.
I was getting fucking pissed with this line of questioning. “OK Aubrey, this is what we are going to do. I’m going to make some calls and I think we are going to send you to a hospital to get some help that you need. New meds or new scenery or someone there that you can relate to, bond with, plus there will be other adolescents there that have the same feelings and emotions that you have; maybe, even similar situations,” she said.
“Do I have a choice?” I said.
“No, I want you safe and you’re not in a safe place right now,” she said.
“Fine,” I said.
“Good, I’m going to go talk with your mother and make arrangements for you to get picked up by an ambulance,” she said.
Chapter One
She got up and walked out with her notebook and pen as I sat up in my bed. I put my feet on the ground and walked in the bathroom with all this shit hooked up to me. I really thought about ripping it out of my arm and watch myself bleed out everywhere. I stand in the bathroom looking at myself naked in the mirror. I realise I have put on some weight since my first fall back in depression.
A few years back, I remember it was like a milestone in my life; the doctor comes in and tells me and my mother that I have an eating disorder called anorexia. I thought I was fine and healthy and maybe deep down I was punishing myself and slowly killing myself back then. I was always lightheaded; I fell more times than I could count in the shower in my room.
I ran in place for hours and hours until all hours of the day into night. I was in eighth grade going into high school. Everyone says it’s a memorable time for a person. A lot of changes and decisions you start making about your future. That was what was preached in school to me and my peers. I was just trying to get through the day; waking up and feeling like going to school. Getting dressed and looking forward to going home and being by myself.
I look back to that, and to now. There are still blank pages that are missing in my life, like when I had sex last year with my senior boyfriend. Me being a freshman, why didn’t it hurt? It should have been our first time together, but it wasn’t for me.
Why I needed to protect my family, but in the same sense hate them too? Why did I take a whole bottle of pills on my mother’s birthday? And that whole day after we left the beach, all I could have done was jump off those steep cliffs, smash my head off the rocks and be done with it! My family thinks it’s the broken relationship between me and my boyfriend. My mother is saying that it’s my abandonment issues with my father, which I do have. I don’t believe it’s that though.
As I put my clothes on, I start having issues with my stomach; maybe it’s the tar I had to take last night, or my emotions or the truth that’s been eating me up inside. I opened the door; my mum is looking out from the window when I shut the door. My mother was with me all night, I don’t think she slept; I vaguely remember her in the hospital room last night. It was her boyfriend that brought me to the hospital. I’m sure later in life maybe I will thank him for saving my life.
“It has been decided by all of us that you need to go and get some help. Everyone is concerned about you and I can’t keep going through this with you, and I don’t know what to do anymore. I’ve brought you to counsellors and they’ve had you on tonnes of meds, I’m hoping this last resort is going to help you. Please talk to someone there; whatever it is, just tell someone,” she said.
I just stood there watching her mouth move, but I wasn’t listening. That’s how it was a lot lately, people are talking to me and I’m in a serious fog that I can’t get out of.
“What?” I said.
“I said I’m going to bring down stuff to you tomorrow—clothes, personal hygiene items, if you want books or cards, crossword puzzles, underwear, bras. Is there anything else you’re going to need, you think?” she said.
“No, that’s fine,” I said.
“OK, I’ll be down tomorrow at the hospital, just please be honest and talk to them,” she said.
She walks over to me, gives me a hug and says she’s going home to sleep. Time has passed; hours of stupid TV, nasty hospital meals, people coming in and out taking my vitals, removing my IV and asking me the same stupid question, “How am I doing?”
I felt like saying how the fuck do you think I was doing; I’m going to a nuthouse. It was night-time, 9:00 pm to be exact, my door opens with two guys standing there in uniforms.
The doctor and nurse, handing papers to me and the other one coming to me, asking me the same shit everyone else has today. I said I was fine, didn’t need anything, and away we went. It seemed like a long ride and I could not sleep at all. It was the fear in me about these two guys. I didn’t know them, and I don’t trust people easily. I’ve been fucked over too many times with both sexes.
I’ve gotten so bad that I don’t even trust my own mother anymore, and we use to be close. The ambulance came to a halt, they open the back doors and I get out. It felt like a prison ride, only it was a short bus with me and two guys. I guess they felt I needed an escort because they both followed me in.
There was a code to get in, a little box of an elevator to go up on the third floor. We reached the third floor, walked to the desk where the secretary was and two nurses. I had the same procedure done at this hospital too. Vitals and questions; same story as it was rehearsed in my brain. They gave me slipper socks and jonnie pants.
I kept my t-shirt on. The nurse said that they will be in the morning to draw my blood. She seemed like a hard ass to me and she had a big ass too.
“Get some sleep, Aubrey. You will be up at 6:30 am to have your breakfast, you will make your bed and you will be dressed for the day, you will be outside your room at roll call. Do you have any questions?” she said.
“No,” I said.
“Good, get rest. 6:30 comes fast,” she said.
I’m walking dow