Chapter one - It always seems to start in primary that you realize it

Juvenile detention is bad place to be. Living next to one is even worse. My name is Jeffrey Crows. This is the story of my life and how is fell to pieces then rebuilt itself (well I guess). I thought by writing this down, it would make this easier, but it didn't. It just showed me how shit my life got. It all started when I was nine. I remember watching Australian Idol and seeing Casey Donovan win it. I went on the internet to listen to more of music when I first saw my first porn site. It wasn't exactly what a eleven year old should see, but hey, what does an eleven year old know? That's the first time I ever realized that there was something else than liking girls. I liked boys. It was weird at first, confusing even but I learnt to accept it. I didn't tell anyone about it. I was too embarrassed. But people still figured it out. I've always had this theory that the reason why people turned gay was because of the pressure placed upon them. When I was little I believed that because everyone called me a faggot that was the reason I became one. Ark! All my thoughts are jumbled. Sorry if I confused you. Let me start over.

The date was the 28th of November. The year was 2005. Casey Donovan had just one the second season of Australian Idol. Many of the critics were bitching about how Anthony Callea should have won. I remember watching my family in the living room, yelling at the television about how the contest was rigged. I was the only person I knew that was happy that she won. That night I went to sleep happy. A few days later we ordered pizza from Pizza Hut. We ordered a family meal. Now if you know anything about mega company's you will know that they classify an average family as two adults and two children. Not my family. I have a Mum and a Dad, two older twin sisters Helen and Anna, who fought about everything and then there was me. When dinner arrived we ate the pizza then my dad gave out the four ice creams that came with family deal. He gave them to everyone else. I had nothing. None of them cared that I missed out. They only cared about themselves. Things as small as this made me cry when I was little. The social rejection aspect of life.

School was even worse. I had a target on me. I was weak for my age. I was wimpy. I hated my primary school. I had exactly two friends; Heidi and Gwen. Like me they were social rejects. One because of her weight the other because of a mental disability. We were happy some days when the other kids didn't bully us. But that was very rare. On this particular day we were discussing the controversial issue that every child in Australia was talking about. Australian Idol. Now that I look back on it, it's kind of pathetic. I better tell you name of my primary. It was Woodland Transverse Public School. Not that there was any actual woodland anywhere near the school. What a bad name choice for a school. Either that or it was trying to communicate that it was a harsh environment. That the children were like roses, hiding the thorns underneath to damage you. One boy at the school always stood out from everyone. He was called Craig. He was the biggest bully towards me and my friends ever since year three when I hit him with a stick and broke his arm. The school didn't even punish me for doing it, that's how pathetic this school was. He was scrawny with jet black hair. I was much taller than him, but he always knew how to emotionally hurt me. Teasing me about things neither of us actually understood. But that didn't stop him hurting me or me crying about it.

The particular day was my birthday. I was so happy that I was turning ten, finally hitting two digits. We were playing soccer, kicking the ball around when Craig got the ball and pegged it at me. If you don't know what pegging is, it's hitting or throwing something directly at a person to hurt them. It hit me in the side of the head. I ran off the field crying. I was so humiliated. I remember the laugher of my class as I ran towards the office. My teacher didn't follow me. She was too interested in talking to another teacher. Later that year I found out my teacher was lesbian and the other teacher was her lover. It was quite funny actually. My teacher was really fat. Like I mean enormous and the other teacher was extremely skinny. Well I guess that opposites do attract. When I got home from school, I looked in the mirror and saw the large bruise on the side of my face. In the coming days I stayed away as much as I could from my father. My father is the kind of person who doesn't stick up for his children, but rather tell them useless advice that will make the problem worse. Two days after the incident with the soccer ball, my dad finally cornered me before school. He inspected my bruise and told me to hit the kid back. So I did. When I got to school, I waited till recess then punched Craig in the face. He pushed me onto a wall and started to choke me. I grabbed his arm and tried to rip it free, digging in my uncut nails into his skin. I got a detention and a call home because I took my dad's advice. So nether the less I have never taken his advice ever again in my life. That night my dad hit me with his belt. More than once.

I knew I was different I just never realized how different. Two weeks after the fight, my mum and dad started fighting. One month later, on January 13th they got divorced. My mum left with Helen and Anna, and too this day I haven't seen them since. Dad got depressed and started drinking. I didn't know what to do. School was coming around fast, but I couldn't leave my dad this way. I knew I had to find him some help. So I rang up DOC's. DOC's is the Governments Department of Children Services. DOC's told my dad that if he didn't fix himself, they would take my away. He didn't fix himself. I was taken away from the only family I had left and put with a foster family for a few weeks. They were all kind to me, but I didn't like them. Even though I despised my father, I still loved him. When I started to give up on him, my dad came and found me and took me away from the foster family. Around 2am in the morning, the police came to our house and demanded to take me away from him. There was a large trail for my custody. My mother didn't show herself. My dad won the custody of me against the state. I have no idea how he actually did it. I think he bought out the jury and the judge but I never had any evidence, it was just a gut feeling.