Chapter 2
AXEL – ‘THE CRIMINAL’
Christmas Past, Thirty-Three Years Ago…
I wake up to Mum’s favourite Christmas song playing on the radio. The one about snow falling and children playing… only no one’s playing here. Dad’s shouting. Mum’s crying.
It’s been worse since we moved here. Mum said it’d be better – more space, my own room – but it ain’t.
It’s too damp, too cold, too smelly.
And everything makes Dad mad.
Sometimes, it’s the dog next door.
Sometimes, it’s the music from downstairs.
Sometimes, it’s the cooker or the telly that won’t turn on.
And sometimes, it’s me.
Mostly, it’s me.
I roll over, squeezing the pillow around my ears, but I still hear him.
‘Where the fuck is the money I put in the tin?’
‘I don’t know,’ Mum says, crying harder.
Money: that’s another troublemaker.
I wish it was Monday. Monday’s school. Hot lunch. Miss Anders. No shouting. No tummy growling. I don’t care if no one wants to sit next to me. I wouldn’t want to either. I smell like home. Look like home. Stinky, they say.
But it’s Saturday. Two more sleeps away. And soon, it’ll be the holidays. So many days at home…
I close my eyes and hum the new song Miss Anders taught us: Si-ilent ni-ight, Ho-oly ni-ight…
I hum louder with Dad’s noise.
A-all is calm. A-all is bright…
I press the pillow tighter, knowing the crashing’s gonna get worse before it gets better. The money ain’t here. Mum gave it to a kid who knocked yesterday. Maybe she forgot. Maybe I should tell her—
My door bangs open.
‘Oi, get up!’
The blanket’s ripped away before I can move. My pillow next. Then Dad’s in my face—
‘You seen some money, boy?’ he spits, black eyes wide.
I shake my head.
He flips the mattress and I hit the floor.
Mum appears in the doorway, arms wrapped tight around her middle, dark hair clinging to her shiny white cheeks.
I scramble back against the wall.
Why doesn’t she just tell him? That boy would’ve hurt her if she didn’t pay.
Dad freezes, sees me looking at her, and his face goes blotchy, red crawling up his bald head. He snatches my arms.
‘Where is it?’
He shakes me so hard, my teeth clack.
‘I said, where is it?’
I stare at Mum, my mouth falling open and she surges forward. ‘I had to get him shoes for school.’
Dad’s brows snap together. ‘I don’t see no shoes.’
Mum’s lip trembles. ‘I— they’re—’
‘Don’t you lie to me.’ He drops me to loom over her, breathing hard. ‘If you’re holding out on me—’
‘They didn’t fit,’ I blurt.
His eyes cut to me, mouth curling. ‘But you paid anyway?’ He laughs, cold and scratchy. ‘I don’t think so.’ He steps towards Mum. ‘Tell me what you really did with it?’
She backs up, hands raised.
‘Tell me!’
‘I had to,’ she whispers. ‘If I didn’t pay, he’d—’
Dad swings his arm and I dive in front, taking the hit. White light flashes before my eyes, ears ringing as I fall.
‘You bloody fool,’ he says, following me down, and my mother grabs his wrist.
‘Leave him; he’s just a kid.’
He jerks, elbow flying back, and it smashes into her face. The sound makes my stomach twist.
Everything goes quiet except for the radio still playing: It’s the most wonderful time of the year.
Only it ain’t.
Mum covers her bloody nose, muffling her sobs, and Dad breathes hard, his empty eyes raking over me.
‘Just a kid who costs me more every fucking day. We had money before you came along. Now we’ve got sweet FA. It’s time you got out there and earned your keep.’
‘What’s he gonna do?’ Mum mumbles behind her hand. ‘He’s seven.’
‘The perfect age,’ Dad says, smile like ice. ‘No one’ll see him coming.’
I don’t move and he lunges, grabbing me by my hoody as I flinch away, waiting for the blow that never comes.
‘I’m sick of fucking freeloaders. You want a bed, you earn it. Now go. Don’t come back till you’ve got money in your pocket or something worth trading.’
He shoves me towards the door and I look at Mum.
She shakes her head.
‘Just do as he says.’
And so I run, barefoot, straight out into the cold. My eyes sting. My skin too.
Christmas lights blink in other windows, families laughing inside. It makes me run faster, harder…
I don’t stop until I reach the cages. I grab the bars and hold on tight. Breathe in the air until my chest stops hurting.
People walk by, but they don’t stop. Their eyes slide right past me, like I ain’t even there.
Dad’s right. No one’ll ever see me coming.
I’m invisible. Worthless. Just a kid nobody wants.
I slink into the shadows and quickly learn the rest:
How to stay out of trouble.
How to take what I need.
How to survive.
Because it ain’t the law I’m afraid of.
It’s him.