Amelia's story (18 page)

One member of staff called Yvonne was especially lovely
.
S
he
was quite young herself, only twenty-two
years old, and worked part time w
hile
studying for her degree. Yvonne was kind, gentle
,
and empathized with most of the children in Bryn Tyn.
She was especially kind to me.
S
he used to go through all the clothes she no longer
wanted and bring them in for me;
t
h
ey were such beautiful clothes.
I remember a canvas pair of skintight trousers and a
cream-ribbed jumper,
and
as soon as
I tried them on, I
fell in love with them. Yvonne was so lovely; I real
ly looked forward to her shifts.
S
ometimes she would take us all for a sauna at the local gym where she was a member in Wrexham
. W
e thought this was pure luxury and we were in heaven. Whenever the holidays were upon us
,
we knew we were in for a treat when Yvonne was on duty.
The staff would arrange activities for us like horse riding at a local farm on Sunday mornings
.
I loved this and was a regular on this activity. They used to take us out for the day to little towns like Llangollen where we would all jump off the bridge in the summer into the river bel
ow without a care in the world.
T
he drop was very high but to reiterate, during moments like this, we did not have a care in the world. I also remember many summer days spent at the Welsh slate pools where the wate
r was deep and so crystal clear.
W
e would spend all day swimming in the slate pools and basking in the summer sun
,
all the while under constant supervision
,
of course.
Sometimes on the
weekends they used to take us out to t
he woods after dark in the blue-and-white Bryn Tyn van,
and we would play hide and seek.
T
hen we would all climb back into the van and be taken o
n a journey into the hills while
b
eing told ghost stories.
T
here were no light
s lining the roads in the hills;
they were more like dirt tracks than roads
,
and the only light was that of the headlights lighting up the road ahead. At the time we thought this was the best thing ever, but now it seems a very strange way to entertain young children
,
as some were as young as
eight years old. But, it
did not seem to do us any harm.
The one thing about Bryn Tyn that seemed very unfair was
how
the boys were
treated better than the girls. The boys
were given great presents,
and
some boys who were particularly
favour
ed had
motocross
bikes bought for
them
by Jack Aston, the fo
under of the Bryn Tyn community.
S
ome boys were also chosen to spend weekends at Jack Aston
’
s great big house, and the rest of us thought this was unfair
.
I
t would be many years later before I found out the real reason why they were chosen, and
I was
very glad that I was not.
Some
children
had
televisions in their bedrooms and it seemed to the rest of us that they were always receiving one gift or another. Thi
s brought about jealousy among the other children because
everyone wanted what they had. When the boys were in the field with their bikes, some of us girls would walk up and sit o
n the sidelines watching in awe.
O
ne particular day an older lad came up to me and asked
me if I wanted to ride his bike.
I jumped at the chance and leapt straight
onto
the bike full of confidence even though I had never driven anything in my life! I was given some basic instruction
, then I was off;
the trouble was once I was off I could not stop.

I started screaming
,
“I can’t stop
,
help me
!
”

E
veryone was running after me
.
I was getting ever closer to t
he bank at the end of the field, and
I did the only t
hing I could do, which was to
tilt the bike to the side and tip it over! I was surrounded by everybody fussing
over me, asking me if I was fine.

“
Of course I am fine,
that was the best thrill ever
,
” I replied
.
Then we all started
laughing. That was a great day, and there were many great days, but there were bad ones too.

There was a J
amaican girl called Julia Jones.
S
he was tall,
with
a musky odor
,
and was downright hor
rible to everyone.
If you looked at her th
e wrong way she would thump you;
if you brushed past her by accident
,
she would thu
mp you;
if she was in a
bad mood she would thump you. B
asically
,
she was unpredictable and even the female staff were afraid of her.

At fifteen
years old, Julia was unusually tall, very strong
,
and had an almighty bad temper. Julia was going through a phase of humiliating me at every opportunity
. In short, she was making my life hell.
S
he would encourage other children to call me names and
because everyone was afraid of
her
,
t
hey would do just as she wanted.
I
t seemed for a while I could not go anywhere without her in my face. If I complained about h
er I was met with indifference,
they were just not interested. However
,
if they did pay attention and have a word with her
,
this only fu
eled
her anger and she made me more of a target. I had had enough
,
but there was nothing I could do.

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One day I was walking past Julia and for no reason whatsoever she just laid into me, threa
tening to break my nose while
giving me a good beating. No one did anythin
g to help me.
I even complained to my key worker and he just advised me to keep out of her way. How do you keep out of the way of someone like that
,
a
nd what w
as the point? It was impossible. When she was bored,
Julia would seek me out.

The bad times began to
outweigh the good times again, and
becoming Julia’s
next target took its toll on me.
I felt so low
,
with nowhere to hide and nowhere to run. The day that Julia laid into me was the day I took an overdose of pills, which I spotted in the staff room when complaining earlier abou
t Julia.
I do not recall anything until I woke up in hospital
sometime later
.
Apparently
,
I had almost succeeded in taking my own life and
was told
that I h
ad been unconscious for a while.
My mother had been called to the hospital.
Brent Shaughnessy from Bryn Tyn had heard about my overdose and made his way to the hospital to see me, against advice
given by Jack Aston
who had warned Brent to stay away.
Why he was advised against visiting me r
emains a mystery. He was a part-
time member of staff at Bryn Tyn,
and
the rest of the time he was a teacher for a school in Chester.

As I lifted my head, unsure for a moment where I was, a nurse said
,
“
H
ello
,
Amelia
.
”

I said hello
and asked her what had happened.
I
was reminded of what I had done;
everyone was looking at me
,
and I started sobbing as I started to remember just what I had attempted to do. The nurse proceeded to tell me that I had to be revived during the night and that I was a very lucky girl.

My throat hurt like hell
,
and my tummy was aching. Brent was so concerned he sat by my side holding my hand asking me why I tried to overdose. I could not s
peak with anyone at that moment.
My mother was standing nearby.
She looked at me and smiled,
“
W
ell
,
it’s great to see you’re ok
ay
, what was all the drama about?”
s
he hissed.
I didn’t reply
.
I just looked away. My mother popped outside for a cigarette, while t
he doctor gave me the once over, and
I was told I
could
be discharged later that day.
When I was left alone for just a minute, I could not stem the flow o
f tears falling down my face.
I was so unhappy and could not believe I was still
alive; I was desperate
to leave this world. I was no longer feeling strong enough to cope with a
further three years at Bryn Tyn.
I could not see my way through any more
days, let alone years
. I felt so hopeless, and now I had to deal with the fall
out of what I had done.
T
his was something I had not considered before
,
as I had not intended on being around. I felt like a trapped bird with broken wings,
with
nowhere
to fly and
no one to h
elp me.
I was imprisoned and lost in the stat
e care system. What was worse was
there was still a long way to go.
Following my discharge from hospital
,
I was i
mmediately returned to Bryn Tyn.
I said goodbye to my mother who caught the train back home. I sat quietly in the back of the car staring out of the window without a single thought in my head, just blank, totally blank. On arriving at Bryn Tyn I was
escorted
to the office and was met by my key worker
,
who had the job of trying to get to the bottom of what I had done and why, but this day I was not one for talking at all. The one person I thought about
was Brent and his lovely family.
I asked if I could see him to say thank you for coming to see me at the hospital
,
but my request was denied
and
I was told that they had dispensed with his services.
I was utterly shocked and
was told it was in the interest of Bryn Tyn. This
made no sense to me whatsoever.
Brent was on
e of the nicer members of staff, and he actually cared about the children.
I had even spent the previous Christmas with him and his family, and it was a lovely traditional Christmas with turkey, presents
,
and the
Wizard of Oz
on the television. I remember Brent and his wi
fe bought me a beautiful makeup set in a beautiful red-and-gold box. I
t was full of lipstick, blushers, eye shadows
,
and mascara
. T
his was the best present I had had for many years. They treated me like a member of the family
and
I was very happy that Christmas. So why was h
e no longer working at Bryn Tyn?
This I never did find out and
it
always remains a mystery.
The days following my discharge from the hospital were part
icularly difficult ones.
I had been placed on suicide watch for a while. I had lost weight and was very sad. It was approaching Christma
s time again and I had turned thirteen years old,
a big age for a child entering the beginnings of the
ir
teenage years. Birthdays went
by unnoticed for the most part:
no big party, no presents
,
or balloo
ns, and most certainly no cake. Y
ou were lucky if you got a card from someone. I was to stay at Bryn Tyn for the Christmas holidays again.