stared at me angry like for a split second. There was shocking, furious silence and she was shaking with rage. “I can’t believe you’re my son! A vicious thug. Drug dealing vermin. The same thing that happened to Kirsty and those other kids in the pub is going to happen to you. You’re going to end up in ozzie or in prison, rotting away. Or worse - DEAD!”
I swore to God that I wasn’t guilty. I was trapped and squirming, trying to get out of a sticky situation but even if there wasn’t any evidence or clues my mam always knew. She could read me like a bible truth in the old solemn swearing-in book.
“I’ve told you not to hang around with those animals. You wouldn’t listen and now you’ve probably thrown your life away,” she said, her head dropping and tears filling her eyes up. “Ow-wee, you’ve got to get some sense into you, son!”
Seeing that look of disgust and hurt in her eyes was crushing. I mean your mam is your mam when all’s said and done. She was the one person who cared for me unconditionally and I eventually realised that when I hurt other people I was only hurting her. “Poor Kirsty!” The anger was gone now, there was only sadness in her voice. “Judy’s devastated!”
Her head went down, she turned on her heels and went to her bedroom. I could hear her through the wall, sobbing and crying her heart out. Now I loved my mam but, seeing the grief I was causing her what with the outlaw way of living, I realized it was time to move on. I was going to ask around tomorrow, see if I could stop round a mates house for a bit.
I built a skinny little weed, took my clothes off and got into bed. My mam’s outburst had done my head in. I smoked the bedtime draw, stubbed the roach out then snuggled under the duvet. It was cozy and warm, but I tossed and turned, struggling to slip into unconsciousness. Eventually I went into that state between nodding off and deep sleep. I was in a state of rapid eye movement, a sure sign I was dreaming. I was in the dark stairwell of a dread block of flats, legging it up the cold concrete steps, leaping two at a time. I didn’t know what was wrong but, deep down, was certain something bad was going to happen. The stairwell was dark and the wind howled through it like a banshee. There were bad vibes, I felt uneasy and fearful. I’d felt that way before, not often, but you never forget that feeling: Alone, hunted, scared for your life. As though an apex predator was stalking you for prey.
At the top of the stairwell I could see a bright light, shining like a lighthouse beacon. But there was something behind me, in the inky black darkness. Close behind me, gaining ground. I didn’t want to look, but couldn’t help myself. Terror forced me to look. Something was about to pounce on me, as I looked over my shoulder. A blurry shape shifted towards me and before I could make out what it was, I woke up with sweat oozing out of every pore and my heart was pounding.
I bolted upright in bed and could see my heart beating through my chest. Fucking hell, I thought. Another fucking nightmare! I was having the same one every time now. The funny thing was; I never reached the top of the stairs where the bright light was.
It was getting well late now, after one. In the distance, I could hear the muffled, droning noise of the police helicopter circling the estate with its search light. I was absolutely knackered, but struggled to nod off again. I listened intently to the rotor blades and, eventually, I couldn’t keep my eyes open and drifted off into a deep sleep.
9.
Early next morning I woke up expecting the worse, another big fuck-off confrontation, a lecture and a dressing down from my mam, but there was an eerie silence throughout the house. It freaked me out. I got up, put my tank top, trackie bottoms and flip-flops on and had a nosey around for her. It was only half-past seven, too early for her to be getting off for work but the house was empty. Shit! That made
I swore to God that I wasn’t guilty. I was trapped and squirming, trying to get out of a sticky situation but even if there wasn’t any evidence or clues my mam always knew. She could read me like a bible truth in the old solemn swearing-in book.
“I’ve told you not to hang around with those animals. You wouldn’t listen and now you’ve probably thrown your life away,” she said, her head dropping and tears filling her eyes up. “Ow-wee, you’ve got to get some sense into you, son!”
Seeing that look of disgust and hurt in her eyes was crushing. I mean your mam is your mam when all’s said and done. She was the one person who cared for me unconditionally and I eventually realised that when I hurt other people I was only hurting her. “Poor Kirsty!” The anger was gone now, there was only sadness in her voice. “Judy’s devastated!”
Her head went down, she turned on her heels and went to her bedroom. I could hear her through the wall, sobbing and crying her heart out. Now I loved my mam but, seeing the grief I was causing her what with the outlaw way of living, I realized it was time to move on. I was going to ask around tomorrow, see if I could stop round a mates house for a bit.
I built a skinny little weed, took my clothes off and got into bed. My mam’s outburst had done my head in. I smoked the bedtime draw, stubbed the roach out then snuggled under the duvet. It was cozy and warm, but I tossed and turned, struggling to slip into unconsciousness. Eventually I went into that state between nodding off and deep sleep. I was in a state of rapid eye movement, a sure sign I was dreaming. I was in the dark stairwell of a dread block of flats, legging it up the cold concrete steps, leaping two at a time. I didn’t know what was wrong but, deep down, was certain something bad was going to happen. The stairwell was dark and the wind howled through it like a banshee. There were bad vibes, I felt uneasy and fearful. I’d felt that way before, not often, but you never forget that feeling: Alone, hunted, scared for your life. As though an apex predator was stalking you for prey.
At the top of the stairwell I could see a bright light, shining like a lighthouse beacon. But there was something behind me, in the inky black darkness. Close behind me, gaining ground. I didn’t want to look, but couldn’t help myself. Terror forced me to look. Something was about to pounce on me, as I looked over my shoulder. A blurry shape shifted towards me and before I could make out what it was, I woke up with sweat oozing out of every pore and my heart was pounding.
I bolted upright in bed and could see my heart beating through my chest. Fucking hell, I thought. Another fucking nightmare! I was having the same one every time now. The funny thing was; I never reached the top of the stairs where the bright light was.
It was getting well late now, after one. In the distance, I could hear the muffled, droning noise of the police helicopter circling the estate with its search light. I was absolutely knackered, but struggled to nod off again. I listened intently to the rotor blades and, eventually, I couldn’t keep my eyes open and drifted off into a deep sleep.
9.
Early next morning I woke up expecting the worse, another big fuck-off confrontation, a lecture and a dressing down from my mam, but there was an eerie silence throughout the house. It freaked me out. I got up, put my tank top, trackie bottoms and flip-flops on and had a nosey around for her. It was only half-past seven, too early for her to be getting off for work but the house was empty. Shit! That made
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