Hey everyone... last part to the'hell's classroom'bit...only two/three big parts to go...just got two quick questions before I go on... would it be wrong to kill pinocchio...he is an object but he has a personality...its been bugging meall day...the other thing... has my story got boring or bad because if it has I am sorry...tell me how to improve it if it has... thank you...xx

Also big thank you Cherrydrops12, dark-girl-faith-sidle, forensicsgirl97, icklebitodd, pigeonofdoom, SaraStar Silent as the Grave for reviewing the last chapter, thank you so much...it is wonderful to know what you think about it...also thank you to anyone else who has reviewed in the past chapters, I can't believe how many reviews I have, its so fantastic and thank you to anyone who has read the story...THANK YOU xXxXxXxXx


I was back at the reformatory school. As I stepped into the car my heart and spirit were broken and I felt hollow and empty. I was utterly miserable and numb with sorrow. The only consolation was that I could find about being back was that I got to see Liz and Joan and the other girls I had grown close to.

I wouldn't be allowed to go home the next Christmas.

The weeks and months of misery passed. I was allowed to go school more often than I had been. I got to like dusting the Reverend Mother's office, as the other girls taught me to pick the lock on the big wooded desk with an old-fashioned hairpin. I carried that hairpin around in my shoes everyday. One day I would take big sticks of white chalk and other days I would steal elastic bands. Sometimes I find a big stash of sweets and they were always good day. I would take one for me, one for Liz and one for Doreen: that's all I ever took in case they were missed. That was our treat or the day and it felt great; and the fact the nuns didn't know made us feel like we had some kind of power. I began to hide books from the library and the school under my dress and I would read them; so many fascinating things to learn. I think I even impressed the new teacher. She was young and never mean to me, to any of the girls actually.

I learnt that they only way to survive was to get up and keep going. I danced on the tables every chance I got and sang as loud as I could. They weren't going to keep me down. Every time I was caught and punished I didn't cry. I wasn't going to cry and I drove the nuns mad. Liz had given me that advice.

"You have to get tough," Liz said. It was exactly what I was going to do. "You can't let them win. Never cry, even if you get hit with the black leather belt. Keep thinking how they feel when you don't cry. It will drive them mad. And believe me, that is a great feeling."

The only thing I couldn't stand was the abuse by the filthy priest. It had started again as soon as I got back after Christmas and got worse and worse. I remember how her followed me out of the vestry in to the dormitory and forced himself on me the way the boy had done before my first Communion. The pain was even worse this time and when he wiped himself with his disgusting white tissue I could see streaks of blood.

Liz and I had talked about what he was doing to us and I told her I was going to tell the Reverend Mother, so he would stop.

"You won't be here for long if you do that," she said whilst braiding my hair. "Where do you think all the girls went who left the school?"

"Home, of course."

"Who told you that?"

"The nuns."

"God, you so stupid sometimes, Sara," she said. "They were shipped off to a loony bin. That's what happens if you say anything about what goes on in this place. You get stuck with all the maddies. Drugged up to the eyeballs."

She was silent for a long time and so was I as she finished the plaits. When she was finished she hugged me tightly, telling me she didn't want to lose me, asking me who she was supposed to look out for if she lost me. Liz started crying, something I never seen her do. She begged me to keep my mouth shut.

But I was so desperate to get the priest to stop hurting me so I told the Reverend Mother what was going on. I told her that the priest was 'doing things' to me. She kept asking me questions. She didn't register any concern and told me that I needed to wash my mouth out. She told me to go away. I told Liz that I told the nun and she had also tried to tell the Reverend Mother but had gotten the same response.

A week later I was taking to a city hospital. I didn't know which city though and I never found out. I was led in to a room where there was a male doctor waiting to talk to me. The nun who had accompanied me waited outside. The man seemed very kind and I really believed that he would be able to help me. I was there for a long time just telling him everything and he wrote it all down. He asked me if I had told anyone what was going on and I said that I had tried to talk to the Reverend Mother but she had said I was wicked. He asked me if I told anyone else and I told him I said I had told Liz. When he asked what Liz had said, I told him that she had said I would go the mental asylum. He sat back in his big chair and looked at me. The he said, "Don't you worry. We will get this sorted. Wait outside in the corridor."

And I did. I thought he would be the kind doctor and rescue me and I thought there was no way I was ever going back to that school. The nun was in the there for ages and when she came out she had a face like thunder. "That will teach you," I thought but then I was brought back down to Earth when she grabbed me by the arm and dragged me down to the car. She didn't say a word to me and I sat beside her in mute silence.

When we got back I told Liz what happened and she said to me, "You won't be here for long." I told her I was glad that I had told the doctor what had happened to me but she just said miserably, "You have a lot to learn." She knew it all, as she was a lot older than me. I loved Liz. She was splendid; long red hair that was full and shining, an oval face and fathomless green eyes. She had a sprinkle of freckles across her cheeks and beautiful white teeth.

The next day, Liz didn't come to the yard or to Mass. When I asked one of the nuns where she was, she told me it didn't concern me, that she had gone home to help her mother. I was heartbroken: my best friend had gone home and I was left there without her.

A week passed and I was sent for again. The nun sent to, "You are going home. Be ready to go as there will be someone here to collect you in one hour."

I was ecstatic and I ran to tell all the other girls. But instead of being pleased for me they laughed and said, "More like the nut house."

I thought back to what Liz had said and what all the other girls had said. I got really frightened, as I realised I might not be going home after all. I became hysterical and I started screaming. The girls said that if you went there, you would be locked in a prison cell and you would never get out.

I remember coming out of the door of the reformatory school and not knowing where I was. I don't remember the journey. I just remember getting there and the big doors closing behind me.

I was almost nine years old and because I had dared to tell the abuse I had suffered at the hands of the holy priest, I was now trapped in a psychiatric hospital.


I'm sorry...I want to make sara a bit more unhappy...but happiness will come...soon... -ish...

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