"A Prisoner at Seven "
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- Category: Uncategorised
- Created: Friday, 09 December 2011 20:45
- Written by David Nethercott
Life was fantastic. My five year old sister and I had just finished swimming lessons. Dad is great. He takes us everywhere and gives us so many opportunities to learn and grow. We love our swimming, it’s a beautiful freedom to be in the water powering along, feeling the confidence that achieving brings. But that was about to change. We arrived home to find 5 people waiting for us. Some were policemen. We were sent to the lounge, while the adults talked. We were brought out and Dad said we were going on a 3 day holiday . I knew something was very wrong but I played along with it.
My sister and I had Mum & Dad quickly throw some clothes into a bag, and these strangers took us away. We were not asked if we wanted to leave, nor were we told why we were being taken, but this started many long and horrifying weeks of captivity. We were taken to a strange house and told these were our new Mum & Dad. There was even a new big sister. That night I slept with the new sister in her room, and my sister slept in another room. I couldn’t sleep.
The night was so long, and the new sister kept waking up because of Monsters. As if! The next day it became very clear we were not home.
Our freedom was completely gone, and instead of making decisions ourselves about TV, activities, food, showers, we were forced into a conformity of such strange proportions that we could have been in another country. Rules, rules, rules, just made me want to vomit. Bed time, not allowed to do this and that, such meaningless rules. Dad would have given us a choice, and helped us see the fors and against, but not here. We were prisoners, hungry, frustrated pushed around. Our freedom was gone, but why? I don’t know. Our routine was turned upside down. Before school care, after school care, no one doing reading and communication book with us, our after school activities stopped, swimming, karate, no swimming club. And the weekends, so boring. My sleep became worse, I lay in bed wondering, and crying.
Our first visit to Mum & Dad, an hour and a half, at our home. Boy was it great. But something had changed. I missed Dad so much, all my sister and I wanted to do was cuddle and jump all over him, but we could feel his reluctance, and the lady kept pulling out her little book and writing in it. While we enjoyed seeing Mum & Dad, it hurt so much each time we were put back into that car. Why Mum & Dad, don’t you love us anymore? Why do you keep giving us away? We want to stay and be loved, to relax in our own rooms and feel the love and security you provide. But you keep pushing us away. 3 days has long gone, and weeks are now flowing as are the tears in the empty loneliness we feel. What have we done? I will write cards to you, draw pictures to try and win back your hearts…
My sister still has some pocket money, she will give this to Dad to help him get us back…Do we cost too much? I don’t know what to do, how can I help? Saw a neigbour the other day picking up her son from After School Care. “What are you doing here?”, she asked in surprise, because dad always picked us up. I replied, “ We have a new family, and Mum & Dad don’t want us anymore, and given us away.” These people keep asking us strange questions about Mum & Dad. They won’t leave us alone, and if its not the people who took us away, its the Foster parents on and on about closing doors, being private, not showing undies when we do our gym and acrobatics. My little sister now stirs them up, as she has learned what gets them going. She is good at that. But I don’t need it. I don’t want to fight, I just want to be left alone. I don’t play with my school friends anymore, I just wander around the school yard by myself, playing in the dirt or sit under the trees. I am numb. I just want to be home. My energy is going, my joy and desire to learn is slowly disappearing. I look at life as if it is just a misty cloud. I am not free, and I don’t even know why!
My sister and I have stopped phoning Mum & Dad at night. I never want to stop talking to Dad, but my sister is so impatient. Really she is hurting inside, and when we finally put the phone down, we cry or are so angry, we fight or I can’t sleep. Dad said he understood, and that we don’t have to phone at night. It stopped, not because we wanted to but to avoid the hurt. What is happening to us? Our spirits are very low. We no longer have Dads constant encouragement, his talk about God and tapping for problems and joys of the day. I feel so far from my Stream of Well Being. What have we done? We have told these people the truth and answered all their questions, but still we don’t get taken home. How long, why?
No one tells us anything except rules! Conform, conform, don’t be yourself. I know, I will start telling them what I think they want to hear, and I’ll tell some bad stories about the Foster parents and see if that will do the trick. I want to get out of this prison. I am sick. I am never sick, I hardly know what this is. A sore throat, hurting head, what is going on. Dad would normally just tap us, and in the morning we are fighting fit. This sickness thing is going on for days. I don't like being sick, this is new and I don’t like it one little bit. Dad, we need you.
It’s now been 7 weeks. When are we coming home Mum & Dad? But as soon as the question is asked, the lady just butts in to say they don’t know. As we cry on leaving our visit, Mum & Dad seem so angry, maybe they do love us and want us? When the lady isn’t close, Dad whispers he loves me very much, and he is working very hard to get us back. But why were even taken? I just don’t understand. My school work is going backward. I sit in class away with the fairies. It is just so much more comforting to be inside me than hear what the teacher has to say. What would she know? Even when I do have my short visit home, after saying hello and a cuddle, I now go straight out to the bird avairy, and lock myself inside the cage and play with the birds. I feel safe in the cage, just me and the birds, no one to boss me around, and I can be me. Nature. Dad and I love nature.
What is happening? When is this to end? What if we never get home, is this my life? Mum & Dad were my life. Holidays, activities, learning, talking about who I am and what life is about, but now, I just don’t know. Could I get my life together without them? I just want to cry and give up. My sister has changed, I try and help her, but she is shallow and pretends she doesn’t care about anything. She gets angry easily, I stay away. Who is here to help me? These ladies keep telling us they are doing this for our own good. Prison is not good. My freedom joy and growth are gone. I’m going to find a quiet place and have a cry. After all, I am only seven.
Foot note: This was written after the children had been taken for 7 weeks, and was gleaned from comments and conversations with the 2 children on their short visitations. It is now some 70 weeks, and the prospect of having the children returned have been vanquished from DOCS perspective. The 7 year old from whose perspective this story comes, told her mother that “life was no longer worth living, and that by the time we get her back, she will not be here”!! Thoughts of suicide by a now 8 year old. What an indictment on our society and the system. Yes, they care about our children…..SURE! Mr JS “Injustice will always fall with truth and love”(Gandhi)
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