Hell on earth

Hell on Earth

The marriage was well and truly over, they both knew this. She had been
sleeping on the
hard, uncomfortable settee, for the last eighteen months, and things
had progressed to the
stage where they could barely stand to be in the same room. The sad
thing was that neither
of them wanted to make it work anymore, and they had given up even
trying to sort the
mess out.

He had become unbearably horrible to the child, and she had immersed
herself in her
work, to try and cushion the misery that flowed in the household,
friends had stopped
coming round, the atmosphere was tangible, and most unpleasant.

Things had come to a head, and she knew she had to get out, if only
for the sake of the
little boy, the problem was, she didn't know quite what to do about it,
everything she had
was tied up in the house. He certainly had no intention of moving
out.

She filled in the forms for local council housing. There was a three
mile waiting list, and
applicants needed a million points of which she had about three.

So not to be deterred she looked at private rental, but everything was
way to expensive,
She began to feel more and more trapped.

Then one day things were taken out of her hands. He had come in at
three p.m. As
usual he shouted at the child, who was packed off to his room to play,
out of the way. The
boy wasn't allowed to stand on his bed, they heard him talking to the
dogs in the garden,
to be able to do this he had to stand on his bed.

Without a word of warning the husband flew up the stairs. She waited
for the barrage of
shouting to begin, but it didn't. Not a word was spoken, no warning;
nothing. The sound
of the blow seemed to richoched through the entire house. He had never
hit him before.

She held her breath for the split second the shocked child did, and
then the screams shook
the foundations of the house. The child was bruised. It was a slap, not
a punch, it was to
the legs, not the head , but the child had NEVER been hit by them
before. She went into a
blind rage, stuffing clothes into a holdall indiscriminately, not
counting out underpants or
making sure some warm jumpers went in for him, just throwing anything
into the bag in
her temper. They stopped to pick up Barney, the dinosaur, who had to
leave too and
without thinking about where they were headed. They left. He had
stopped her taking the
car keys. So they walked.

They ended up at the local council offices, and declared themselves
homeless. Did she
expect that the keys to a beautiful rose decked cottage would be handed
over to them? It
was humiliating, She was shamed and the child was scared.

She was taken into the backroom, and given the number of a lady to
ring, soon
arrangements were being made for her to go to the 'refuge'. This turned
out to be a safe
haven for battered women some thirty miles away. She explained that she
wasn't battered
and never had been, but the lady said that she fell into the criteria
of 'desperate' and
therefore would not be turned away. The lady was kind, and more
importantly she was
making decisions, finding answers, she allowed herself to be carried on
the tide of
instructions, grateful not to have to think for herself.

A friend drove her to the refuge. The place can only be described as
'hell on earth'. The
building was lovely, brand new, the lady explained it had only been
open a matter of
months, and yet graffiti had already found it's way onto the walls both
inside and out. A
smell of urine and feaces just managed to top the smell of disinfectant
and stale cigarette
smoke. The place could have been a safe place to be, were it not for
the clients.

She sobbed quietly in the office as the lady told her to talk to the
other women, she said
that she would hear her own story over and over again.

Then she was told to look around and make herself 'at home' her friend
shuddered
visibly as they walked into the lounge. What should have been a lovely
sunny room, with
brand new furniture and fitting, was a mess. They stepped over ground
in food which had
been trodden into the carpet, and the air was so thick with smoke that
it was difficult to
breathe. The settee had small 'bomber holes' where the live ash of
joints had dropped. The
place less than three months old had an air of neglect and decay.

A woman slumped on the settee, cigarette ash falling onto the carpet
as she made no
effort to get an ashtray. She looked about sixty, but her age was
probably nearer forty, she
looked up disinterestedly, and then flopped her head back down in
disdain, without any
form of greeting.

The arm with the offending cigarette hung limply at her side, track
marks from a
thousand previous needdles, were openly on show, flaunted almost
proudly, as though
they gave the rough lady some status. It turned out she was a
prostitute, plying her trade
while living in the refuge, and buying drugs with the proceeds. The
staff seemed to turn a
blind eye to this as long as no men were brought back to the house.
there was a strict no
men policy. The only rule it seemed was that you had to promise
faithfully that you would
tell no man the address of the refuge.

The only other occupant of the lounge, was a pitiful child. I will
name the child, because
the name was so wholly inappropriate for this poor filthy infant. She
was called Angela,
yet this was no Angel, she was a half starved neglected, beaten and
abused, carcass of a
child, left to her own devices in her own filth, in a tiny playpen,
while her mother was god
knows where, doing god knows what.

The friend went and began to talk to the little girl, she knelt and
stroked her through the
bars of the playpen, the child tilted her head, she enjoyed the
contact. The friend ate half
chewed biscuit picked from between the child's dirty toes, and then
offered as a token of
friendship, the child brushed away the friends tears as she cried for a
child so unloved and
neglected.
The little boy had gone out to play in the enclosed garden with the
feral kids, she
worried and fretted, but the friend said to let him go, that no harm
could come to him. She
was not so sure and thought that the boys he was with would probably
use him as a human
sacrifice or something. The kids were used to people coming and going
at the refuge, the
child was instantly accepted, and for the time being his troubles were
forgotten. He was
allowed to play for the time being in peace.

Women came and went throughout the next couple of hours, some so
young, chattering
excitedly about when the staff went home and they could escape to the
pub for the
evening. one woman was elected to stay in with all the children, the
woman concerned
was moaning volubly that her turn had come round again so soon. She was
amazed that
the refuge was unmanned by staff at night. the women were left to their
own devices, or
vices as the case may be.

At last she was shown to her room. A pretty room, apart from where
someone lying in
bed had used a sharp impliment to gouge holes in the wall. It was the
size of a broom
cupboard, but with a set of pine bunkbeds and clean bedding she was
suddenly very tired.

It was time for the friend to leave, the friend sobbed as she said
that she couldn't leave
them in this horrible place. She however, resolute and determined
smiled bravely through
her tears and said they'd be Okay. She had no money and needed to buy
food. The friend
had to leave some. As she left the friend cried for the two she was
leaving behind, and for
the pitiful little wretch still screaming in her playpen, with no
attention or stimulation, her
mother had still not made an appearance.

The two refugees went to the local shop, to buy something to eat, she
wasn't hungry but
by this time the child was ravenous. they bought a 'picnic' of sweaty
pre-packaged
sandwiches, sausage rolls and crisps, with milkshake and pop to wash it
down, that would
see them through the night. The next day an activity had been arranged
for all the children
to go off for the day It was a Saturday, and activities were always
provided for the
children. The child was very excited, but she didn't want him to go off
with a pack of
strangers, however well meaning, she wasn't at all sure of their
qualifications, but how
could she deny her child this when he so badly wanted to go?

They instantly recognized her in the shop, as "One of them" again she
felt shame and
humiliation, the child used to foreign holidays, was having a great
time, he asked loudly
when they were going back to "The hotel", the people in the shop smiled
benevolently.

Back at Hell Haven, everyone was in a state of high excitement getting
ready for the big
night out, cans were opened, and beer being slurped, as the women
donned micro mini's
and plastered themselves in make up an inch thick. The staff had left
for the night, and
Angela had the remnants of a pie sticking out from her black toes, at
some point she had
had a nappy change, and then had been dumped still filthy back into the
playpen with a pie
for her tea clasped in her hand.

she went to bed, forcing the very unhappy little boy who wanted to
play with his friends
to go with her. She couldn't settle, and he wouldn't settle. There was
no lock on the door,
suddenly it burst open and two of the feral kids tumbled into the room
" Is Mark playing ?
....got owt to eat Mrs?" She asked them politely to leave, but this was
just the start, they
ran screaming and shouting up and down the corridors, banging doors,
and causing havoc,
running in and out of the bedroom, as she lay in bed, a chair up
against the door, made
little difference and they just stood outside the door hammering on it,
and swearing at
them.

She could stand no more. It was eleven o clock at night, but she knew
that she couldn't
spend the night in that awful place, soon the women would be back from
the clubs and
then she expected chaos to reign. She went to ring her friend, and
blind panic flooded
over her, when her friends husband said that she was out. What if she'd
had a drink? what
if she couldn't come and get her? The thought of spending the night
there was intolerable.
He reassured her that she had only gone to her sisters, and that as
soon as she got in he
would ask her to come out for her.

She suddenly felt so much better, She was thinking for herself again,
and she was getting
out of this hell hole. The friend when she arrived was exhausted. The
last thing she had
wanted was a sixty mile round trip in the middle of the night, but she
was glad to do it,
just to get her friend out of there.

The child was mortified at the thought of missing the next days trip,
and had to be
heavily bribed with all manner of good things to make up for his loss.
He " loved that
hotel, it was cool" He asked if they could go back sometime.

She sorted her life out, got private accommodation, and healed the
wounds her child had
suffered at the hands of a cruel man. Still sometimes in the dark
hours, she thinks of her
few hours at that place, and vows that she will never allow herself to
become that
desperate again. She knows that every problem has a solution. She feels
little pity for the
women in that place, they seemed content to put up with the poor hand
they had been
dealt.

Undoubtedly they were terrible victims of life, but how could they not
want to help
themselves, out of that place, some of them had been doing the rounds
of refuges for
years, they are better than shop doorways, and an easy ride after life
on the streets. Her
heart breaks for the children, the next generation of victims in the
cycle.