Free Amelia's Story (Box Set the Complete Series Books 1 & 2) by D. G. Torrens

frightened me after Glenda’s attack. The police had to be called in as any injury to a child has to be reported and investigated. On my return to Breeton House, the staff made a point of telling me how worried Glenda was about me and that she had been asking after me almost by the hour. Of course I knew why, and a short while later when I was alone in my room Glenda came in to see me. She asked if I had told anyone. I said no, and she said she was really sorry and had never meant to hurt me like that she just lost control. She begged me never to tell and I promised to abide by her wish as long as she left us all alone going forward, as we had had enough of her.
    Glenda changed after that and the bullying stopped , she could not do enough for me and she actually became quite pleasant to be around. All the other kids were a lot happier too, so it seemed my beating was not in vain!
    I spent 12 months in Breeton House, during which time I was attending a local all girl's school called Mount Pleasant School for Girls. This was a great school and I was doing well, above what was considered average for my age in English and Math’s. The teachers went on to say I could excel in these areas and do well in future exams. However, regular visits to Breeton House from my mother had started to disrupt my behaviour again. She would arrive stinking of alcohol, swearing and screaming at me in front of everyone. This was just too much for me to bear and was not helping my case for going home at all.
    I felt as if she was doing it on purpose so I would not be allowed home. It was always like this when I was doing well at something too; it was like she could not bear for me to be doing well at anything. She was the only person on this planet capable of stealing my confidence with a few lashings of her tongue; her life’s mission seemed to be directed at making mine as miserable as possible. Why couldn’t she just be proud of me, put her arms around me and say I love you? Why did everything have to be about her? It was so little to ask and so easy to give.
    The decision was made to reduce her weekly visits to twice monthly and this suited me fine. I missed my siblings so much it hurt beyond belief, and I still needed to get home no matter how much I did not want to live with her. All I wanted was for her to love me and be proud of me, it was very little to ask, I thought. I started truanting from school shortly after and my subjects were noticeably suffering. I could not bear to be the only child in the school that did not go home to a family at the end of each school day. All the parents would be gathered outside the school gates, arms wide open to greet their angels, and I was greeted by a member of staff checking their watch as they were coming to the end of their shift.
    Despite having friends at the home, something was always missing and I still felt like my life was a lonely and futile existence. I loved my school, but hated the fact that it was a constant reminder of what I did not have and made me long for it even more. I felt so different from all the other girls at my school, and all the other girls treated me like I was different, not in a bad way, just different. My life had been steeped in drama ever since I could remember - a normal, quiet life was all I wanted.
    One particular day on my arrival from school I saw an ambulance outside the main entrance of Breeton House. I watched as the medics hurriedly lifted a stretcher into the back, quickly closing the doors, but not before a female member of staff climbed in the back. All the other kids were talking about Cindy; she was probably the most mixed up child in the whole place (and there were many). She had taken a razor blade to her wrists and had obviously been very serious about killing herself.
    The staff found her in the bathroom on the floor with blood everywhere - Cindy was only 13-years-old. I felt a chill run through me after hearing the sad details of Cindy’s past. She