Life in my shoes -pt7

I stood in my new room, it was dark, cold and depressing.Sparsely furnished with my single bed, my old toy box and a dark wooden wardrobe, this wasn't the new start I had been imagining.
I was enrolled at a nearby school half way through a term, cliques had been formed already by my peers and I didn't seem to fit in with any of them, once again I was the outsider.
At home the situation between my mother and Nigel continued to be one of aggression and anger but I no longer cared, I had become almost completely unfazed by them and their alcoholic induced brawls.
I would now begin to see Mary and Wes on a daily basis as my mother went round for a cup of tea and chat with Marge, their mother.
Several weeks after we had moved in Mary invited to sleep over again,and again,I agreed.
From that night on I would regularly have sex with Wes whenever he asked me to, not because I overly enjoyed it or was scared to say no but because I relished the fact that I was part of something special. As I didn't have any other friends I was unaware that other kids my age weren't doing these things and, to me,it became the norm.
My Father would still come and visit me sporadically, with his new girlfriend, whom I liked.
We would often go to my grandparents house or to museums which I enjoyed immensely but every now and then my father's mood would change to one of hostility towards me if I did or said something he didn't like.
On one such occasion,after a day out, I was sat in the back of the car admiring a new watch he had bought me, he asked me the time. I had never had a watch before and I struggled to answer him. Frustrated with me, he began shouting, asking me if I was stupid. I became upset and began to cry which seemed to anger him more. The more I got it wrong the redder his face went, until he began reaching through the space in between the front seats to try to hit and slap me. Several times his aim was successful and my legs were stinging from his blows.
Although it must have only lasted a few minuets I was distraught, all I wanted to do was to go home and hide away. Starting the car engine, he revved loudly and wheel span off and continued to drive like a maniac at high speeds through the country lanes. I honestly thought I was going to die in a car crash.
Arriving home my face was clearly red from crying and when my mother asked him what was wrong with me they ended up arguing.
It seemed that no matter where I was or which adult was around, I couldn't escape from violence.

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