I was born in Canterbury, in a hospital. As I grew up I started to realise the serious things going on around me. At first, I thought watching your mum get beaten up and hearing arguments every night was normal. But things just got worse and worse.
One of the worst times was when my mum was knitting on the sofa downstairs, my dad came stamping down, slowly. He burst in to the living room and got one of her knitting needles and looked as if he was going to stab her but. He stopped right at her heart. Then he said some words that I cry over at night if they cross my mind: give me a good reason not to stab this right through your heart. He diddent do it, of course.
This went on for the first five years of my life. Something I diddent realise until I was four was that he had extremely dangerous illegal drugs lying around the house. My mum went berserk once when he left them next to my eight month old brother. Me, my sister and him went to the zoo the next day, my mum stayed at home. It's a day I never forgot, never will.
We got home from the zoo and there were sixteen police men in the house. I can't remember where dad went, but for those few minutes, he disappeared, leaving me no memory of how. My brother, sister and mum and me had to hide in the garden with the police men. They caught him, shoved him in to the car and drove him away.
Some of the of the police stayed behind, found loads to of drugs and not to mention 7,000 pounds hidden in the printer.
Every month I had to visit him, in sheppey prison, I can't bear to go there anymore. The smell and sound of that place still haunt my dreams.
By the time I was eight years old, things changed. I heard the dreaded news that he was coming out of prison...