I was awakened from my dreams of beaches and sandcastles by the sound of shouting male voices in the room next door.
I know this room was the bathroom as my headboard was right against the wall and i would hear the door banging most nights until i fell asleep as the other children where waiting their turn for wash and bedtime. This was late though everyone in my room was asleep and no light was on. But within a few moments other boys in the room were waking because of the noise and the bed lamps were switched on. One boy was missing from our room and we guessed by the voice it was him next door shouting back at the other voice which was the male carer. The conversation was loud and angry and even with glasses against the wall the other boys could not make out what was said it was too muffled. But then came a thud against the wall and another and all the boys ran back into their beds as fast as they could. We all thought we could be heard against the wall and it was the carer telling us by hitting the wall to get back into bed. So we lay there with the lights turned back off still listening to the shouting a little more subdued since the thuds on the wall. A while passed and then the bedroom door opened and the bright light shone through and in walked the missing boy. He didn't say a word but was holding his head and you could tell he had been crying. Gradually one by one the other boys began to creep over to his bed quietly and then the whisper of questions began asking what was going on. He had tried to run away and had been picked up by the police and brought back in the early hours. We were all fast asleep when he made his dash for freedom. Why he did it , well he had a girfriend outside of the home and wanted to go away with her somewhere. So he had had enough of being in a home and wanted out. I didn't know any different i hadn't been treated badly here and had a warm bed and nice food and felt safe. But this boy had been on the end of the male carers temper a few times as he was the eldest i think he got most of the stick of it. This time his punishment for trying to run away was a couple of head bangs against the bathroom wall. I guess that if you have been around violence and abuse you know its there but you just close your eyes and ears as a child and think of nice things instead or pretend it has not happened, i think that's the place i had gone to. Again writing this memoir brings back the things i have seen or had done to me to the forefront again and reminds me to try and be a better person than those who commit these deeds.