Starting When I was Twelve

I was twelve. We were moving house and to me it felt just like any other time we were moving with my Dad. Except, it wasn't with my Dad. My mum had been trying to sell our house for a long time, she had it on the market here and there to see what price she could get for it. I never really took much notice of it. I just thought it was just one of her phases. Where she couldn't see a way out of the financial situation we were in. So I just assumed it wasn't going to happen. Life would soon be back to normal and we would figure things out. In a sense I just wanted to stay completely oblivious to the fact. Things were different this time though, she was sick and not getting any better. That fact had not sunk in yet and I thought she would be up and running about in no time but this was not the case. We were going to sell the house and we were going to move. She began to tell me over time that she had been talking to a man over the internet whom had offered for us to come stay with him for a small time. While we got things sorted. I didn't even stop to think of just how far we were moving or really even where we were going. All I knew was that I wanted to stay just where I was, with everything how it was. I resented the fact that we were moving away from everything I knew, where I'd been so comfortable yet so... how do I put it. Oblivious to the outside world. There was nothing more I needed than home and a life I knew. Yet it would have been impossible for us to stay there. She held out as long as she could. Renovating and changing the house ready for market, she knew what price she wanted for the house and she was going to get it or as close to it as possible. It took longer than she had planned and cost even more. It was taking a toll on her that I felt only once for a week out of three weeks. The time we spent with her was the best. Greater than the best and I always wished I never had to go. It was like having two lives, one I spent under my father's thumb, widdling at his every command and beckoning call and the other was filled with joy, love, hope and fun. Oh what fun it was. She never tried to compete with Dad the way he thought she did. She simply loved us and wanted what was best for us. There came a time when we were packed and ready to go, she sat us down with our father and they began telling us our options like it was buying and selling shares at the trade market. There was no second thought for me, there was always one who I knew loved me more, who knew would care for me when I was sick and I knew would help me when I was down. There was no second option in my mind. I believed in myself and I knew he didn't believe in me. Even though I felt this way it was not an easy choice to make and I flat out told them both without hesitation I would go with my mum. All of our belongings were placed in storage for more than it would cost to rent a house the area. The old house was sold and we were to move a three hour journey south to Kingscliffe, our new home. The man whom she had been talking to on the internet for quite some time seemed like the perfect guy, in text, to her. Alas this was not the case, he was a crazed, jealous, money hungry liar. He let me do whatever I wanted only because he knew it would make my mum happy to see me happy. Yet I always had the feeling something was off and on many occasions I told my mum how this man made me feel. The eiry, weird and evil feeling when you just know something is wrong about a person when you meet them. He basically gave me the creeps. He was an older man, he owned a kayak business that was obviously not doing well, even I could see that as he barely made enough to cover fuel costs, and the only other form of income he made was from a paper delivery business out of his basement type garage. Neither of which brought in much money, let alone to pay a mortgage or even rent with living expenses on top of the highest peak in kingscliffe. This man was my bane. Within weeks of living there I knew I didn't want to stay there long. Yet it took over six months for us to leave and thankfully we did. It took us so long to get a new house because my mum was not working and a sick pensioner. I felt living there with him and his daughters was overwhelming to say the least. His daughters would sporadically come in and out of the house making all sorts of noise then leaving again. One of which didn't even live there anymore. The man couldn't even put together a barbeque without help, yet he would need me or my mum to watch him do "manly" things to make him feel so. He was no where near manly. Not long after living with him my mum found out he was in debt. That she could live with. She was even prepared to help him work things out so he could pay it off. He had no interest in such things, he just wanted quick money and to terrorize whomever got in his way. He tried to make me feel wanted by him to take me over to his side many times but it's easy to see through a smile of lies. I could easily see him gritting his teeth every time he smiled at me if I interupted him, every time I did something so meaninglessly wrong, It was like the world had been crushed like a pebble into dust. I knew this one would be like all the rest, unfit and undeserving of her love. I started school within two weeks of residency in the area at Kingscliffe High School. This wasn't the first time I'd started at a new school and I knew it wasn't going to be anything like the others, especially since we were in a different State. Everyone there was different to anyone I'd ever met. I didn't fit in to the other schools already so this one was no different in that fact. I felt that no one there understood me and for the first few weeks I kept to myself. Ate at lunch by myself and did all my school work in quiet without talking to anybody. I was the "new kid" and until I did something to set myself out from the rest I would still be known by that fact. During this time I felt fairly lonely but consoled in the fact that I was still with my mother who I love dearly and that was all that mattered. In my previous school I'd played a bit of hand ball but I was a bit out of practice. So I sought some new found friends in that area, a bit out of the way from the mainstream "pro" players to hone up my skills again. Within about a months practice of playing handball I'd matched and beaten everyone within my small circle of out of the way friends. By this time I wasn't the "new kid" anymore. I was more-so "that shy kid" and I felt that way too. I kept focused on my studies yet I wouldn't do homework still because that was the time I wanted to spend with my mother. I decided it was time to give hand ball a go in the mainstream areas for a bit and play the dummy, ask the rules make some mistakes and have a bit of a play around and see what's what. Eventually I made it competitive even though it may have been with myself to see how hard I could hit the ball within the limit of the rules. It took many lunch times of practice and there it was. I'd found my shot. The shot no-one had a backing to. The shot no-one could hit back. I became renound for having the hardest hitting power shit in school that bounced within the rules to the closest edges of the courts. When I played kids stood down, they only wanted to watch the best versus the best. It felt great being at the top of my game. Only few liked hand ball enough to be competitive with me and only those few challenged me to one on one matches just to see my shot. The only problem was they were on the recieving end of that shot constantly and I had never had it hit back. I had worked it out in my head the complete timing of the swing, force was maxed and I would use my whole body weight to the advantage of my swing. Which was a great mass at the time. I weighed in at 110kgs at five foot two'. Then I would time the swing so that the ball would hit my hand millimetres from the ground and smash it at my opponent. I practiced constantly every chance I had before school and every lunch time. My social life slowly began to grow as I played the game but I never really took much of a part in it. Even at this age I felt the silly and stupid things my friends did just for fun were not fun in my mind. I may have had a giggle when they did them but I would never have myself even tickled the thought in my mind. It was just stupid to me. My power shot became more and more known and more and more challengers would step up to the plate. If no one wanted to practice with me I would even just use a wall but then would come the task of finding a ball no-one was using. The ball was more my friend I felt yet I didn't even have one of my own. It kept me occupied in my spare time and I loved simply challenging myself to new heights and seeing how fast I could hit it and push the limits even further. Many played a trick game and would use their agility to their advantage and my weight against me. So I practiced getting faster around the court and moving to harder shots. Even going for dives on concrete surfaces. I played hard and I didn't give up easily. I felt completely focused when I played like nothing else was around, yet as soon as I had a crowd I made mistakes. I was still "that shy kid" at heart. I didn't really know anybody and had no close friends so I would just stick to what I knew. School work and handball. The idea of extra money came into play when I saw our savings from selling our house was dwindling. We started with over one-hundred and twenty thousand dollars in the bank and it sank quickly with our living expenses wanting to stay the same as my mother's old job could afford. My mother tried to cut down slowly yet I didn't realize fully what was happening. I needed hard evidence in my mind to see there was a change. I felt helpless so I asked around at school to see if anyone could help me find a job. Eventually after word getting around. I found a trolley boy position through a mentally frustrating process which I felt was harder than it needed to be. I'd give my mum some money every time pay day came around but it was never really enough to compensate. I mean eighty dollars a fortnight and I was giving her half of my pay to help out as much as I could. There were things that I wanted aswell so I saved the rest of it. After a year had gone by my mother's relationship with this man was dwindling as I knew it would. He'd began asking her for money, it may not have been in the form of money but it might have been a car or money for his daughter that he didn't have. She helped him as much as he could without giving him money. She paid for the food we ate and cooked, cleaned and helped him where she could. We'd moved out by this time and he was harrassing her from what it looked like on my end. During the move he helped a little yet used excuses of his paper job and business at pottsville with the kayaks as an excuse to not help. I ended up moving us into that house with my mum. She was under great strain as by this time I was thirteen and working hard to load everything into a hired trailer and move it in. I had missed our furniture and belongings because they made a house our home. It was long, arduous work for me. By the two weeks end I was worn and fatigued moving our things from a storage unit thiry minutes drive away. Meanwhile I was still going to school and moving house after school and on weekends. My mum did what she could during the time I was at school but I could see how much it was effecting her and the strain it put on her. She was exhausted aftering moving three small things out of the car and into the house yet she kept going. She had to have constant breaks and I ended up just telling her, "I will do it mum, you just have a rest, its no problem." I could see the appreciation in her eyes that dimmed nearly instantly to guilt which made her get up again and want to help and I could not stop her. After the two weeks were over she fell ill again and was in and of hospital. I never really knew what was going on, all I knew she was sick and I wanted to help her. I constantly asked if she needed my help or If there was anything I could do for her. My trolley shifts had began to pay off after four months so I bought myself new shoes against the advice of my mum. These shoe's I still have today and cherish. The only shoes to last and not die at my hands.