Read Online Amelia's Story (Box Set the Complete Series Books 1 & 2) by D. G. Torrens - Free Book Online

the confines of the communal area until lunchtime.
    I was not allowed to go outside, I was not allowed to leave the communal area , as the door was locked and you could only leave the room with a member of staff by your side. It felt like I was in prison. There were only a few children residing at Highfield House during my time there, it was lonely, the staff made no effort to make you feel at home - or even at ease - I was just another passing statistic to deal with. There was very little to do on a daily basis; the communal room had a few chairs and sofas scattered about, a television in the corner which displayed a very poor snowy picture and a very old pool table that had been donated to the home, and that was it. They just did not have the resources; this was a temporary place for children to stay while decisions regarding their future were being made by the powers that be. A child in this place could not possibly feel more alone in the world, it was cold and unfeeling.
    After about a month into my stay at Highfield House I had a visit from my Social Worker and was advised that I was going to be transferred to Breeton House children’s home the following day. A rush of relief swept through me. I was told it was a pleasant place and it was run like a large family home. My Social Worker convinced me this was the best decision for me. The Social Worker informed me that mother had made it quite clear she no longer wanted me home. This obviously brought tears to my eyes and pain in my heart. I cried asking why? What about my b rother and sisters? I had never felt so rejected in my life; the feeling of despair that was deep within me was taking root.

Breeton House (1st V isit)

    The following day my Social Worker arrived and signed the relevant release papers, urging me to collect my belongings as we had quite a journey in front of us.
    The long journey to Breeton House was a very quiet one; I was deep in thought, staring out of the window at the passing farms and mass rape fields laid out on the countryside, like blankets of gold, a truly beautiful sight. These fields glowed like a bulb, so yellow and so bright. I wondered what was waiting for me at the end of my journey, would I like it? Would the other children be nice to me? Would the staff talk to me? I would soon find out.
    My young head was a buzz with questions and full with anxiety. Yet another move to somewhere unknown; you never got used to it no matter how many times you were shuffled around from one place to the next. I never felt settled and never felt secure in my life, there was no routine as such but this was how it would be and I had to accept it. My schooling was greatly affected by all the moves in my life. I was never in one place long enough for the school to make a real difference, and with all the troubles in my home life I was constantly distracted, or too worn out emotionally to take to my studies, although I tried with all my being.
    After a long and thoughtful journey we arrived at Breeton House. The first thing I noticed was the enormous solid old oak door with a large round iron knocker that stood before us at the entrance. It was unlike anything I had ever seen before, I had no idea doors could be so huge. It was rather intimidating to say the least. The large impressive building was extremely old and built in the Victorian era. We were greeted by a very friendly man who turned out to be the head of the house, his name was Gary Cotterage and he had a face full of hair in the form of a very large beard. I liked him immediately, he seemed kind and gentle, and he made me feel less nervous. Gary made it his job to put me at ease straight away; I was asked if I needed a drink before I was escorted to his office to receive the rules of Breeton House.
    I jumped at the chance of a glass of warm milk accompanied with two malt biscuits; there was an old woman with a white overcoat on standing over a large old cream stove situated in the centre of the