caught in a story Gallery of Creative Writing

caught in a story

The editor of Shepherd's Pie, Craig Bradley

Hi, I'm Craig Bradley
Welcome to
"caught in a story"

If you think about it, life is just one big story. Everyone has a beginning, a middle and an end. Everyone experiences good and bad, highs and lows, and dark and light. Life unfolds like a best-seller and every day is a different page. Like it or not, we are who we are and we are all caught in our own story.

The young people who came together and wrote this book all told me their own individual chapters. Like all the best stories, these ideas were funny and sad, thought-provoking and moving. The subjects they wrote about were their choices. They all knew what they wanted to say and used this book as a way of saying.

The young people in this book may be caught in their own stories, but they are far from being trapped. I admired their honesty and the openness of their collective imagination and the willingness to share their own individual experiences. This opportunity to express these often hidden feelings, have given these young people a sense of freedom and self-worth that will keep their own stories thriving and very much alive.

I have found working with these young people immensely rewarding and creatively fulfilling. They have made my think about my own experiences of similar subjects and added another chapter to my own story.

Craig Bradley
August 2005

See more of Craig Bradley at craigbradley.com

A Note from the Youth Offending Team

This book is perhaps "darker" than Shepherd's Pie, it is an attempt to show the reader what the lives of the young people we work will are like when they come to us. We hope their lives are better when they leave us.

Only the first half of the caught in a story book is represented here. If you wish to read the complete version, you will need to obtain a copy of the printed book. Contact us for details.

Download Word version

BIRTHPLACE

I was born in Ireland, in Dublin. It was alright. I lived in Ballyfairment Parade. Number 46. It was a white house with a big garden. There were loads of shops across the road – chippys, hairdressers. The town centre was called Cundorkin. The town was nice. I can’t remember much, I was only four. It was pretty though. I remember that.

I was premature but I don’t know anything about it. I weighed less than a bag of sugar.

FIRST MEMORY

My mates were getting the house done up and the builders were there throwing the bricks down. I walked into the ladders, fell over and the ladders fell on me. Then a brick came down and hit me on the shin. I was proper crying.

I was born on Friday the thirteenth of June 1987. Friday the thirteenth, eh? I haven’t been unlucky – yet.

The first thing I remember is booting my Dad in the leg. I don’t know why I did it. I don’t live with my Dad anymore, I live with my Mum. I don’t boot her in the leg.

I don’t know what my first memory is. I’ve forgot.

SCARS

I’ve got two scars, one on my forehead and one on my knuckles. I got them off a garage roof when I was little. I’ve got one on my head because I fell off a bin. The one on my fingers I got from fighting. I punched some lad in the face and hit his tooth. We were fighting, it was years ago, I was only little. I fight all the time, I’ve had loads. I had one the other day in Lidl car park. I punched some lad who lives by my care home. This lad kept saying he was going to batter this lad who nicked his phone, but I punched him instead. We started fighting. No-one won, but I got the most punches in. Then we just stopped.

I’ve got loads of scars, one is from a Stanley knife blade. I was cutting a paper mache balloon open at junior school. The teacher told me not to do it, it was my own fault. I’ve got a scar on my thumb. I’ve got loads, one at the back of my right hand is a fishing hook, it ripped my skin out. I’ve got two penknife scars, I was just messing about, seeing how sharp they were. They were very sharp. I’ve got one on the back of my hand from a bike chain, you can see the links. It hurt. Not a lot of blood but it hurt a lot. I’ve got a massive one on the back of my head, you can see it when I’ve got my head shaved. My little sister pushed me down the stairs and I went straight into the front door. She was laughing at me and I was there with a big gash in my head. It was a hospital job, stitches and that. I’ve got another scar from a tin of pears. I was trying to open it when I was a kid. I like pears, they are nice. I’ve got some scars on my legs from running through a thorn bush, running away from the police. I smashed a bus window. I didn’t mean to do it. I got a handful of pebbles and threw them. It made a loud crack on the window. The police thought it was a gun so armed police came with guns and that. I could have been shot for throwing pebbles.

There’s mosquitoes in the woods, you pull your sleeve up and they sit on your arms. You can see them filling up with blood. You get a little dot and a bruise. It hurts like nettles.

I once got hit on the head by a road cone. I was unconscious for three days. I knew it was three days cos my mum told me. It was the first time I had ever been knocked out.

I’ve got a scar on my left wrist. I fell out of a window thirty-feet high. My bone came out of my arm. I felt it. I couldn’t see it, I had my jumper on. They had to cut off all my clothes. I was naked in front of a male doctor. It was well embarrassing. When I was going into the operating theatre they said “we’ve got to scrub your nail varnish off”. The operation was supposed to last one and a half hours, it took three. I was dying for a wee and they told me to wee in a bedpan. I was still groggy because the anaesthetic was wearing off. I was in a plaster for two months. It’s still sore. When I see the scar these days I think it’s ugly. It bothers me sometimes.

I’ve got one on my leg. I fell over when I was a kid, about four. My little sister pushed me over. It’s about three inch long and is a normal colour. My sister got into trouble for it. I pushed her back but didn’t hurt her. I messed my little sister’s room up and told mum so she’d get into trouble for it. Little sisters are OK, but sometimes they can be a pain.

Bruises

Bruises, bruises
Who would have them.
Black and blue
Where somebody has hit you.

But it is good in a way
Cos people believe what you say
When you get hit
By your parents.

I’ve got some on my eyebrows. Somebody chucked a bottle of Tippex at me. One on my elbow. Somebody rubbed my elbow on a carpet. I got a carpet burn. The scar on my right hand was when my mum cut me with a pair of scissors when she had an epileptic fit. I’ve got a little scar under my chin from when I had gastroenteritis. They had to put a tube in my throat. I’ve got another scar on my back. I don’t know where that came from.

DADS/MUMS

I met my stepdad when I was proper little. He’d just escaped from jail. He’s been in loads, Doncatraz, Armley, Strangeways and Everthorpe. My stepdad smashed Everthorpe up and did a million pounds worth of damage. It was on the news and everything. He did six years for armed robbery. When I met him my mum said I could call him dad if I want, I just had to ask him. I wrote him a card. I don’t remember much about my proper dad. I go up and see him on Saturdays. We chill out, have some dinner, then I get some money and I go. I think of my stepdad as my proper dad cos he’s been there for me.

My mum is a prostitute. I don’t know her but social services told me. It upset me. I think about dad and how he feels. I’ve got three sisters and seven brothers. I’ve got two mums. I know one of my brothers and I’m starting to have contact with some others.

My granddad died when he was 81. My dad died when I was four. And my mum’s dead. Thank God.

I was sixteen when my mum died. My dad told me. She had dark hair and dark eyes like me. I look a bit like her. She was a happy person. She liked dancing and she taught me how to dance. Mum was a good dancer, I’m not.

I can’t remember mum, she died when I was six. She was an alcoholic. When she was drinking she became violent to me and my brothers and sisters. She used to shout out and hit me and slap me across the face, so I ran away to dad’s. Mum had curly hair and the same shaped face as me. She used to laugh and smoke a lot. She used to work in a pub. Mum died of an overdose. I walked in with my dad and mum was on the couch with tablets and bottles everywhere. Dad rang an ambulance. I said to dad, “she’s asleep, leave her”. But dad said “no she’s not”. When the ambulance came they moved me out of the room. I remember seeing a bodybag. Mum had been dead about four hours. She was cold. I didn’t go to the funeral cos dad wouldn’t let me. I wanted to go and say my goodbyes, but he said it would be too upsetting. I’d had an argument with mum a few days earlier. I’d said “why don’t you go and kill yourself, no-one cares”. When she died I felt like it was my fault. I still feel like that now.

BOYFRIENDS/GIRLFRIENDS

I’m into women. There’s some waiting outside for me. I’ve just dumped one. I got bored. I don’t fancy her anymore. I’ve been seeing some new lasses. It’s easy getting women. I just go up to them and ask for their number. Then I check them out and go with them. And then I leave them. Sometimes they cry but it’s not me getting upset is it? I say it’s over and that’s it. If they cry, they cry. Simple.

I loved a girl once. I got her pregnant but I made her get rid of it. If her father would have found out he’d have broke my legs.

When I first met my boyfriend I was with somebody else. He was my mate’s brother. We started chatting, he’s a bit of a charmer at times. He always holds my hand, and that’s a good thing, but he’s a bit clingy. Sometimes I feel like saying “leave me alone” but I don’t want to upset him.

HOMETOWN/HOME

I don’t know much about my first home. I didn’t watch a lot of telly, I’m an outside sort of person. When I get older I want to be a drug dealer and do delivery service.

Brighouse is alright. I go over now and again, see some mates, get stoned, have a few tinnys. I drink Stella, it’s a wife-beater innit? I like boozing. I used to get served in the Saville Arms in Elland, but now I don’t go down there.

At home I’ve got my own room. I put allsorts on the wall. If you walk in and there’s nowt to look at it’s boring. I love drawing cars – Porsches and Beetles. My favourite car is a Dodge Viper SR100. I haven’t got a photo but they’re fast, well fast. One of them is the fastest in the world. I want to be a mechanic when I’m older. I’ve got this towel from Malta. It’s got dolphins on it. I didn’t go to Malta, my mate did. I’ve got my footie boots under my bed, Reebok size 4. Proper nice they are. I’ve scored two hat-tricks with them. They’re my lucky boots. In my room I’ve got some photos of my mum, one on a boat in York, one in Middlesbrough in a pub. I’ve got pictures of my sister and brother and one of my grandma’s wedding. I didn’t go. I’ve just got photos. Granddad’s dead now. He got cancer. I won the cutest baby competition when I was nine months – I’ve got a picture. It’s weird innit how you grow up? I was a right fat git when I was a kid. I’ve got this plane, an airhog. You pump it up and it makes the propellers go around. It’s like a proper plane, but I’ve never been on a proper plane. I’ve got a big poster on the wall of a girl called Brigitte. She’s wearing a bikini. I got it out of Fast Cars magazine. I bet she puts out.

BOOZE/DRUGS

If I can’t get served in pubs I just trot about. I got to Wellhome Park and the bus station. No-one cares. I get rat-arsed and bounce off the walls. I had a pint and a half of straight vodka and drove my bike down Lower Edge in Elland. I was smashed. I got to the bottom and this car came up, proper close, so I slammed my brakes on, the car swerved round, little boy racer he was. I hit my head and lost my hat. I ripped my brand new Berghaus jacket. I was well gutted.

I know a bit about drugs. I’m twelve. I’ve been smoking for three years. I’ve been smoking cigs since I was eight. I don’t like the taste, but if you hang around with your mates and they all smoke then you start don’t you. I smoke Richmond, Lambert, Mayfair or just baccy. I’m going out for a fag in a minute. I can blow smoke rings. I’ve only just learnt. I kept trying and trying and I know how to do it now. I blow smoke rings and watch them wobble and then they disappear into thin air.

Skunk and weed, they’re nearly the same. Same effects except skunk is a lot stronger.

I got caught smoking in school and I was sent home. I wasn’t bothered. I put the cig behind my ear, walked out the playground and lit up.

Drugs

I was here
Now I’m not
Around the corner
Smoking pot
You’re not

My favourite drink is WKD. It’s got vodka in it. It’s got a different taste. I had two big bottles the other night. I threw up. I thought “never again” but I’m doing it tonight.

I don’t like drugs. Sometimes I drink a bottle of Red Square. It tastes OK but it doesn’t do anything. Vodka does, it mashes you up. I don’t drink a lot. I’m twelve.

Weed

Weed is OK
Weed is cool
Smoke it at home
Smoke it at school
Smoke it when you’re playing pool

Get stoned out of your head
Get blipped
Feel sick, stay in bed

Have a bong
And you’ll feel wrong

Skunk is better
Because you don’t have to burn the weed
Just sprinkle it in
Don’t fight it
Put it in your gob and light it

I smoke 25 Sovereigns a day. I get the money off my mum and the Childrens Home. I started smoking when I was six.

I like booze – Guinness Extra Cold is the best. It makes me happy.