It hurts so much.
I can't stand up. I can't move. I can't... believe he just did that.
Why? Why did you do that Billy? That hurt too much. I trusted you, not sure I can anymore. Who can I trust anyway? Well my... my mother, that's one person. Brad if he weren't dead, that I'll have to explain. That's it really. I could trust... no, not Billy, not after that. He's drunk out of his mind right now anyway.
I stand up, using the power box mounted to the wall for support. I pull up my jeans as I stand, trying to brush the snow out of them. Let's pause here for a minute...
My name is Sam Kenton. I'm 11 years old, living in Ludendorff. My mother is Claire Kenton, she's a street prostitute. According to her, my father is called Trevor Phillips and the last time she saw him was the night they 'made' me.
I re-button my jeans and begin to slowly walk ahead, using the wall for support. I never want to come back to this alleyway, or this street. If I could, I'd leave Ludendorff right now but I'd never really last out there, being 11.
The wall ends. I let go of it, struggling to move along now. The snow and ice doesn't help either, being ankle height. It's currently summer but here in Ludendorff, this close to the Canadian border, most of us have never seen a proper summer. The last time the snow melted here was four years ago. I loved that, a beautiful as the snow is, it was even better to see the land without the white blanket over it.
The streetlights reflect in the wet road as I move on. Stepping over the mound of snow to one side, I'm in the road.
My legs just hurt so much. I fell forward, landing in the wet, cold road. Get up! I'm going to get hit by a car here!
There's one right now, coming towards me. Any moment now, this will all be over. Wait... mum?
The car stopped and my mother, Claire gets out, running to me. She picks me up, warming me in her arms.
"Sam! What happened?" She asks, observing my damaged state. I want to tell her everything, to get her to get Billy thrown in the pen. I'm just too worn out and in too much pain to do it though.
Is this what passing out feels like? All the control in my body slowly drifting away from me? I hope this doesn't happen too often. I know however, it will happen again at some point. For this moment, with all the feelings and sensations running in me, I'm glad to lose consciousness.
I woke up later, the pain fading but not gone. I'm in me and mum's house. There's not much to see here, just two mattresses on basic metal frames, a broken old sofa. I wish we had a TV but we haven't got that much money. All the money my mother gets from prostitution goes to the bills, any leftovers get us the food we need. Sometimes, I dream of getting away from here, living somewhere hot where we don't have to worry about the Ludendorff gang who fractured my skull last year and gave me light brain damage. That causes me to easily forget things, sometimes almost instantly.
"Hey sweetie, you okay?" My mother asks. Even though she has sex over four times a day, I'd never have her any different.
"Mu... mum. It hurts..." I manage, lightly motioning to my area of pain. That's an area I use to think only hurt when having a child, which I want to do sometime. Obviously not for another ten years or so but I want to raise someone myself.
"Hey... what happened?" Mum asks again.
"It was... it was Billy, he... he hurt..." Mum seems to work out what happened. Being a woman of that sort of thing, I expected she'd understand before I had to use the word.
Mum just hugs me, not letting go. I suppose it's probably happened to her on more than one occasion, just never when she was 11.
"Sam I..." Mum has tears in her eyes. She feels responsible. It's none of her fault.
five days later, we're at a caravan on the other side of the country, close to the Mexican boarder. Mum is talking to someone in the caravan doorway. Is that... my dad? Trevor Phillips? He looks like a hobo with those dirty clothes of his! To think I wash my hair and wear clean clothes every day, are you sure this is my father mum? Where's the monstrously bushy long hair you mentioned?
One thing I can tell by mum's posture is that Dad doesn't want me. This looks like it'll be fun.
Mum waves me over. I open the door of the Declasse Premier she's rented, dragging my suitcase out with me. After mum leaves, I'm stood in the middle of this filthy caravan with nowhere to sleep it would seem.
"Dad, where do I sleep?" I ask, his response being outside. Ok, maybe I should play this as if he's a new person... well, he is.
"My name's Samantha but you can call me Sam" I introduced, holding my hand out.
"Trevor, you call me Trevor" Dad- sorry, Trevor replied, shaking my hand.
"Why were you never there?" I ask, wondering now why he left. He wasn't just any ordinary user of mum's services.
"How about we keep our pasts to ourselves for now" He replies, opening the wardrobe in his room. "Put your stuff in here"
So I opened the suitcase and sat down, hanging up my clothes and trying to create distance between them and Trevor's clothed. None of his have probably been washed since the day he got them. I'm still in my thick Ludendorff clothes so I decide to change. After a little while, I'm dressed in a light blue, almost white dress with a short leather jacket over the top of that.
"Samantha, come get some food" Trevor called. Let's see if he guessed right...
He's got chips from a chip shop down the road. I'm surprised there's even an operational café here in this dump of a desert. What made the chips better was the small pot of curry sauce with them. Mum must've told him that I love curry.
Maybe Trevor's not so bad, maybe I'll recover from... Billy. I trusted him and he did that, violated me in the worst way possible. Well, hopefully I'll get my mind off of it here, with my father who... has a gun in his trousers waistband. I sometimes carry a knife that I made to fit my strength and size but I refuse to kill, always have and always will. Meaning I never use a gun.
You know what? I'll just eat this delicious curry and chips, screw Billy, screw Ludendorff, screw snow and ice. I'll just get on here with my father who doesn't want me.
What could possibly go wrong with that?