Chapter 2
Mary Davis reluctantly showed Ms Hill round her home, starting with the kitchen. The kitchen too was just as bad as the room. Piles of rubbish covered one corner of the kitchen; it could have easily challenged Mount Everest with its height. Pots and pans hung all over; some covered with green mould. The blinds, what was left of them, hung, swinging with every blast of wind. The kitchen looked as if a bomb had hit it.
Mary saw the look on the social workers face, one of disgust.
"I've not been here the last couple of days." she blurted out. "My oldest son was looking after Andrew." She added quickly. Great, nice going Mary, she thought to herself.
"May I ask where you were, Mrs Davis?"
"I was away all weekend cleaning this couple's house; they were paying me for it. They were out of town for the weekend." She stuttered.
"I think I've seen enough in here. Let's talk in the living room."
William Davis walked into the living room of where he lived. The old bag, sitting in the chair opposite his mom, looked down at him. The house was a mess, he didn't care, and he didn't have time to either.
He had thick blonde hair, almost white, which he gelled back. His eyes were a light shade of blue and he had a v-shaped scare above his left eyebrow, one he got from when his dad hit him. He wore black jeans and a tight black top, showing off his muscles expertly. He also wore heavy Doc Martins on his feet.
He was a real hit with the ladies, even though he still lived with his mother and wasn't really rich, but that was the way he liked it.
Ever since they fled to Boston from England, to get away from his drunken father, he had to get a job. You could say that he had to grow up pretty quick, just to support his mom and younger brother, Andrew. He had never really had a proper childhood; he grew up with his dad beating him and his mom up, and then soon moved onto Andrew. They moved to Boston when he was just fifteen, the age Andrew was now, he dropped out of school, and it had been work ever since.
Andrew was a skinny blonde haired boy wit brilliant blue eyes, much like his brothers. He wore his favourite blue shirt with an orange T-shirt underneath. He also wore blue jeans and black 'Converse' trainers.
He sat nervously in front of the oddly mean looking social worker. She had a cold hard face that gave Andrew the creeps. She had a tendency to look up at him then jot things down on a note pad she had nesting in her lap. His brother was rambling on about how hard it had been the last couple of years and how they were doing the best for Andrew. That was sort of true, everyone was doing the best for him, and the only downside was that they were out working all the time. He didn't really have the company, only the TV or a book if the electricity company cut them off again. Andrew wished they could win some money, somehow. Not a lot, just some to get them on their feet, to make ends meet.
"In all, Andrew gets the best care we can give, considering." William finished saying after like the fifth time.
"Okay." Ms Hill said, she appeared to be waking up now William had stopped talking. She paused then stood up. "I think I've heard and seen enough. It has been a rough time for you for a while, too long. The best is for Andrew to be put in a home." Everyone gasped. "I will be monitoring you very closely. Have a good day." She said before leaving. Mary broke down in tears with her two sons at the side comforting her.