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NEW AUTHORS SHOWCASE
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04-04-11 12M p6 |
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The Lost Othello by SKAR |
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Preface Why Skar? Well it has several meanings for me, it is a play on the obvious word scar, as I have been scarred both mentally and physically in life as have a lot of you out there. Also, because of my alleged current situation I could only write this in a pseudo name and Skar spelt this way is also like a personal signature for myself and those close to me. I have written this book, what some might call controversial, ‘cri de coeur’ even chicanery. All I can ask is that you cogitate whilst, during and after you read this book, about the people in society that you may judge harshly because of their appearance, life styles, bad choices and any other skull-duggery that may wind you up the wrong way. I’m not saying they don’t deserve to be chastised and frowned upon by society, just not all of them. As for me I’ll leave that for you to be the judge of. I tell my story, sometimes using a series of letters that I wrote to myself over the years to various addresses I lived in at some point. I did this as I honestly believed I would die young or be incarcerated for a long time from a young age. You see when you’re brought up, for so long institutionalised, the threat of having that put on you again doesn’t carry much weight, Who’s gona’ care? Worry for you? Be disappointed in you? Followed by that slow shaking of the head to side with the finger waggling, ‘You’re no good, you’ll never amount to anything.’ When you have no one out there ready to do or say all that, it makes prison feel like a break or inconvenience, even a home to some from unprivileged backgrounds. Of course I didn’t have that attitude straight away, I was actually quite productive when I left school (ok, yeah when I was expelled but it wasn’t my fault honest.) I did a training scheme and had a few good jobs and for a while was running smoothly. I’m now in my early forties and my story continues and I believe is one for the current social climate and a story that must be told, even if just to give a voice to those who have been socially excluded, raped, child abused, mentally abused, spent time with Catholic priests, (what? C’mon you know the score). Basically there’s a lot of adults out there, both old and young, who didn’t choose or want their life, but do the best they can. Sometimes that means doing things outside the law, as I did sometimes, but don’t worry it’s not all doom and gloom. I do take the piss out of the government , Babylon and traffic wardens! I’m not a politician or anyone famous so why listen to me? But if you ever wondered, even just once whilst watching the news, and there’s what seems like a meaningless or social disturbing event, my story might give you a little insight as to how people can get into certain predicaments, then maybe few more people will think about the after-care of some of the future Lost Othello’s out there before they can hurt someone or themselves mentally or physically. I’m pretty sure a little after-care may have put me on another path, I still feel I’m one of the lucky ones as I’m mentally tougher than some who have been through similar experiences to me. And I’m prepared to take whatever ‘shit storm’ this book or my alleged past actions bring on me. Who knows I might keep running like my mate, Forest. Peace... SKAR
***** Firstly you must try and understand I’ve never wrote shit in my life so this might be a little raw, definitely unprofessional, perhaps too much swearing and maybe some people, (you know who I mean, the privileged or people who are born into high society etc., try and keep up, one is new to this you know,) won’t understand what I am chatting about. I personally believe that Britain has a lot of forgotten people who are brought up by the system and then left to fend for themselves. Because it’s not a political talking point or newsworthy etc., certain people in British society are forgotten about and become the homeless man or woman you see on the street or selling the big issue, the person with mental health issues who hurts themselves or other people, the prostitute on the street corner, drug addicts, drug dealers, armed robbers, street robbers, shoplifters, car-jackers and all the other people society mainstream turn their nose up at. A lot of these people have one thing in common, they’re products of some ‘care’ background. They have either been in a children’s home or foster home or some other government run care facility as children, and then when it came to adulthood, kicked out and left to fend for themselves with no life, or very few social, skills. Some did okay, but others became one or more of the above. Me? I became one of the above. We was in two children’s homes, one for about a year or less called Elmurst, then when I was six we moved to Chesapeake Children’s home where we stayed for about ten years. Yes, ten fucking years, even some killers serve less than that. The reason we was put in was because our mum fucked off and left us with our dad who couldn’t really cope and in them days was quite a brutal man. But in these eleven years we never got put up for fostering, adoption, nothing. My brother and I became the longest residents living there in that time. We saw God knows how many children and staff pass through, by the end there was only my brother and me left. My friends used to come and stay, then we were shipped out into a three bedroom flat and that was it. We never saw anyone again, not a staff member, not a social worker, nada, nuttin, no mas, and that’s when life began. From that point onwards, between us, we would experience sex drugs and reggae ‘n soul. I call it the black version of sex, drugs, rock ‘n roll. From all-night parties, to getting into fights, in the next twenty years plus, we became young fathers took drugs, sold drugs, been involved in sex trade, fighting, more fighting, working, not working, countless relationships, guns to armed robbery! All by the age of thirty eight to thirty nine. So yeah I want my ‘yutes’ who already understand where I’m coming from, but also some of the British public to know what you create when you leave people, black or white, from a long term care back ground, to fend for and bring up themselves. This what you get and maybe with a little after-care a lot of the above could have been avoided. Peace..
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