It was all in my mind.

I was the only child for 13 years.

Even though I could read and write I could never take anything in but then my head was full of thoughts or no thoughts at all. Having been the only child for 13 years as well having disabilities and health problems I didn’t feel equal to the rest of the world.

Every new term or every holiday after the weekend, teachers always asked us to write in our rough books what we did during our breaks from school I could never always remember, only things I enjoyed the most.

You know that English has always been the worse and my favorite subject to me because I either have too much to say for myself or nothing at all.

As a child due to heavy medication I was in a world of my own, my learning abilities were affected and I had no danger awareness.

One Monday morning came to school a holiday or weekend break. I was asked as normal to write about what I didn't’t over the break but my mind was compliantly blank but I wasn't allowed to write nothing at all but then I really wanted to write something. It got me into trouble but then I would have been in worse trouble if I said nothing at all.

The story goes like this, my Grandmother Letty was my Mother, my Mother and my Aunty was my big sisters, I had a made up big brother Ben, made up little brother Tony and made up little sister Susan. All these strange thoughts came into my head.

Letty my Grandmother as my Mother had her real name. Aunty Vicci as my big sister had her her real name, my Mother as my big sister had her nick name Sam. Made up Sister Susan her hair was black but she wore pigtails in her hair and a little red plain dress. Made up Brother Tony wore brown shorts, cream tee shirt and he had short straight brown hair.

I forgot the story I wrote, it was over thirty years ago but I can still see my teacher in my head today, her name was Miss Coal. She may not have been as old as she looked. Miss coal was old to me. Sorry that morning I didn't  tell the truth in my story because I didn’t know what to write. Like I said I would have been in worse trouble I would have wrote nothing but as it was I was in enough trouble.

Even today I can still see Miss Coal’s curly hair, her cracked, wriggled face. She was most likely in her fifties at the time but she looks as old as ninety to me. She wore what I can still see is and was a brown and cream dog tooth coat, which I find it hard to take off my mind, which a lot of years ago give me nightmares plenty of times.

Lucky I had this idea for this story because I had a dream the night before I wrote it if you know what I mean, which I will go into very soon. Due to been a child with possible very mild Autism I was very much misunderstood but then this story is fiction and nonfiction.

“Sara Gorman, why can’t you tell the truth?” said Miss Coal raising her voice so loudly.

“Sorry Miss, I didn’t know what to write.”

She asked me how could forget what I did over the break but then I couldn't answer but then she couldn’t understand how I could forget.

“Sara, I don’t believe you.”

I thought to myself if I didn’t write anything at all you wouldn't like it either so I wouldn't be able to win either way. May be it’s not true or partly true but I had to think about this one very hard. OK I admit it was story based on a dream, I wrote in my rough book but it’s based on some truth facts. I also admit that I had very strange thoughts running through my head.

We lived in a random 200 year old Farmhouse in the middle of nowhere, five to seven archers of ground with a duck poud of random drake ducks. For the size of our family it was a handy family home.

I remember my big sister Sammy driving me to school and back home in this random red mini but our home car park was really large, big and round. It was five to seven miles from the home to the nearest shops. If there were any bus routes they were miles apart by a guess.

The hot boiler water tank and heater was non- stop heat and water through the winter. It must have cost my parents a lot of money. They also had the coal fire roaring with heat, which heated the entire house.

I never forget the grey three pence leather sweet in the living room, pale blue carbert, walls and ceiling.  The television was a black portable television; there weren’t any DVDs and video players and computers which at that time unknown.

I remember me, Susan and Tony playing frustration, operation, snakes and ladders. We were happy children. Computers would have been far too much choice for us because we never knew about any such thing.

Time to go up the wooden hills, the years our bedrooms were damage. It had been years since we may have remembered what our childhood bedrooms looked like.  We only remember going to bed every night at 10.00pm, which were freezing. The bedroom walls and ceilings were dull, white mattress, sheets pillows and black blankets.  In those days there were no double glazing windows. It didn’t mean anything to us because we didn’t know any other life. Centre heating was unknown to our generation.

The confusion has always been is that my Grandfather as my Father Ramsey had made us from rich to poor. He spent his money wild on betting and drinking but strangely he was such a hard worker. We’d dread hearing come drunk as he beat our Mother, as we put the black blankets over our heads. When my Mother first met him he started off as a tall, dark and handsome charming young man until she married him to find out different. Mum never had to work at first but over the years she got poorer. After the divorce after twenty years of marriage she couldn’t afford to keep that big house. This was a big disappointed to my Mother because my dad built her hopes up so high on the house.

I am hurt that I wasn’t able to see that my Mother was completely happy after what a rough life she had. Even after her divorce she had lost in men. All the same her world wasn’t completely black and white because she made a lot of nice friends in work and things.

The truth is that my Grandmother was a lovely lady but she had such a rough life.

If anyone deserved happiness she did. My Nan loved my Granddad dearly to start off with. Like I said in the story he was tall, dark handsome and charming but after marriage my Nan found out his true colours, which were very nasty and selfish. I myself only wish I could have made her life happy because I don’t believe that she was ever truly happy, even though she made nice friends and she had us as her family.

 I know she thought the world of me; she always looked out for me and her other Grandchildren as well as children.

This story is based on a lovely lady who deserved a better life than what she got.

I myself was never completely happy until my little Holly was born. Now nearly thirty –one years on Holly is having a baby boy so I am going to become an Aunty, which is great news.