Chapter Chapter Four
Macey's POV
Who the hell do they think they are calling me? I couldn't care less if that piece of shit is dying he and the rest of them mean nothing to me and haven't done for years. I changed my name legally the day I got to Wollongong so they couldn't trace me and yet now they have my number.
I moved to Wollongong and enrolled myself into tafe to finish high school the day I turned 16. I spent a few nights on the streets looking for somewhere to live because hotels don't like renting a room to 16-year-olds. It was hard but while on the streets I met a social worker, she was out of the night handing out food to homeless people and helped me to get a little place for myself living at the back of someone's house in a little one-room granny flat. She is the reason I want to become a social worker. She genuinely seemed to care for people and went above and beyond to help those she could. She would pop over to my little place and check on me, see if I needed groceries or just offer a shoulder to cry on even when I was no longer "her client". She was there when I needed her and I wanted to do that for someone else. She didn't judge me when I told her all about my fucked up past and made me see I was never at fault, that there was nothing I could have done differently so I didn't end up abused. She told me she was proud of me for how strong I was. Her name was Jane and she helped me get into uni and get a room there she also helped me get a job at 16 so I could have more money coming in and no one would be able to trace me.
I'm currently third year of my degree and loving it. I also work at a bar on Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights which I enjoy doing. I consider this my home now and I hadn't had a home since I was 7 years old and lost my mother. There is not a day that goes by that I don't think of my mother. I know I look like her with my red curly hair, green eyes and pale skin. I am 5ft 7 and a decent shape. I probably could lose a couple of kilos, I wear a size 12 jeans but I am a uni student, and I live on carbs and coffee to get me through the day. I am confident though in my looks and I'm glad I look like my mother because it means I look nothing like those people.
I need to just forget the call and get this assessment finished and submitted cause for the next few nights I'm working.
Focus Macey, they aren't worth it. This assessment isn't due till 9 am Friday, but I have my job to think about and I always like to hand things in early. It's finished, I'm just editing and checking I have answered the questions properly. I also have to finalise the bibliography and bam I'm done should be in bed by 11 pm tonight.
I have a full day tomorrow starting with my first lecture at 9.30 am and will finish 1 am Friday morning. Then I start at 11 am on Friday but only have one lecture and a tutorial (tut). I will be out of there by 4 and start work at 5 pm till 1 am Saturday and then I can sleep as long as I like if I don't have any assessments due. Saturday I work a 10-hour shift starting at 5 pm and finish at 3 am and Sunday is washing day. Monday I have off so I use that as a study day. I like sticking to a schedule because it means I never miss anything.
Asher ringing me has thrown my schedule as it means I will need to change my number. Yes, I have blocked his number already on my phone but he clearly showed he is going to keep calling me until I listen to him. I will have to make sure this number is private though and if he gets it again I'll report Tyler.
I will never forgive them for what they did and all I want from them is to be left alone. They all should have known better, I was a kid for fucks sake. I was in pain and had no one to turn to for help when my mum died. They turned to each other while pushing me out. My so-called father took pleasure in hurting me and told me every chance he got that I was unwanted and ugly. I was a kid and believed him and thought if I changed myself if I became someone who did everything for them, they would accept me.
Then I grew up and realised that it wasn't my fault. They were at fault, nothing I could or would have done would have changed them. I was 14 at that stage and tried to run for the first time but was threatened within an inch of my life and put into hospital by my father for the 2nd time. I'm glad he is dying and I will not shed a single tear when he takes his last breath. Is that harsh? Maybe but not as harsh as what he did to me. He was my father, he was supposed to comfort me and tell me everything was going to be ok. Instead, he showed me what real nightmares are made of.
Shit, it's after midnight and I didn't get my assessment submitted. I will have to do it tomorrow on my lunch break because I need some sleep. Fuck Asher for calling me and bringing this up now. I'm such an idiot for getting caught up in those thoughts now. I make my way to my bathroom and brush my teeth before heading to bed turning my alarm on for the morning.