Chapter 2

The home was a cacophony of sound. I remember it vividly—the shouting, laughter, and the constant clattering of everything around me. It felt chaotic, overwhelming, and I was just a small figure amidst it all. The noise swallowed me, making it hard to find my place.

Feeling Small The other boys were older, their energy and camaraderie intimidating. I felt small and vulnerable, my innocence stark against their boisterousness. In those moments, I tried to become invisible, to blend into the furniture as if I could escape the scrutiny of their laughter and chatter.

The Divide Their conversations revolved around football, a topic that seemed to dominate their world. They eagerly discussed upcoming matches, the thrill of competition, and the players they admired. But for me, football was a distant reality. My only experience with it had been standing in the goal, wearing a sports kit that didn’t fit—a smelly hand-me-down from the loner bucket. I remember the bitter cold of winter, the rock-hard soil beneath my feet, and the fear of being pelted by those big, hard leather balls.

No, football was not for me.

A Different Passion Instead, I found solace in cars. To me, they represented freedom and control in a life that often felt chaotic and out of reach. The sleek lines, the roar of engines, the thrill of speed—cars were my escape, a world where I could imagine possibilities beyond the confines of the home.

Alienation But in a place where football ruled, my passion only deepened my sense of isolation. The older boys, wrapped up in their discussions of players and scores, alienated me further. I had no idea who they were talking about, and my social awkwardness became more pronounced. I felt like an outsider, watching from the sidelines as they bonded over a shared interest that I couldn’t join.

The Loneliness There were occasional interactions with a few funny kids, moments that brought a flicker of connection, but they were fleeting. Overall, I felt profoundly lonely. The noise around me, instead of bringing comfort, highlighted my isolation. I yearned for companionship, for understanding, but all I could do was retreat further into myself, hoping to find a way to navigate the chaos that surrounded me.

Reflection In that noisy home, I learned to cope with my loneliness, to find small moments of joy in my thoughts of cars and freedom. But the longing to belong, to connect, lingered in the background, a reminder of the divide that seemed to grow wider with each passing day.

A Story of Crime I heard a story about a young boy who had gone out with his father to rob a bank. The kid was no more than four feet tall and as skinny as a rake. He boasted about how they had scored big, claiming he had to carry £200,000 in ten and twenty-pound notes back to their house. The other boys laughed, incredulous. “No way you could lift that!” one of them exclaimed. But the kid defended himself, insisting, “It’s not a lot when it’s stacked together.”

It was a strange conversation, filled with bravado, but it highlighted the different worlds we all came from. I had my own run-ins with trouble, having taken a car and crashed it, but this was a different league entirely.

Alone in the Common Room After a couple of weeks in the home, I found myself sitting alone in the common room one day, lost in thought. The noise around me faded as I stared blankly at the wall. That’s when an older boy walked in and sat beside me. He was much taller than I was, though only fifteen, wearing a light, baggy pair of tracksuit bottoms and a plain tee shirt.

A Conversation Begins He casually positioned his hands down the front of his trousers, a relaxed demeanour that made me feel uneasy. He started talking to me, asking where I was from and what part of Liverpool I belonged to. Then he probed deeper, asking why I ended up in the home.

As I began to share my story, I mentioned the problems at home, feeling a mix of vulnerability and the need to connect. He seemed genuinely interested, his gaze fixed on me, encouraging me to continue. I don’t know why I opened up about my brothers; perhaps it was the desire to be heard, to find common ground.

A Discomforting Revelation But as I spoke, I noticed a shift in his demeanour. I realised he had slid his hand into his waistband and poking out of his trousers was the tip of his penis, and my heart raced with confusion and discomfort. He watched me intently gazing, urging me to tell him more about my life.

Just then, a house master called my name from down the hall. I felt a rush of relief wash over me, grateful for the interruption. It was an escape from the tension that had suddenly filled the air. I stood up quickly, eager to leave the uncomfortable situation behind.

The Aftermath As I walked away, I couldn’t shake off the unease that lingered. The encounter had rattled me, a reminder of the unpredictable dynamics in the home. I felt a mix of vulnerability and the desire for connection, but the reality of my surroundings often blurred those lines. In that moment, I realised that navigating this new environment would be more complicated than I had anticipated.

The house keeper had to asses me, with some questions and after she finished I went back to the tv room the place was eerily quiet so I wondered of to find things to amuse myself with there was a small room like a storage cupboard which held games and bits and pieces inside so I went inside and the door closed behind me I found a pack of cards and sat on the floor inside the cupboard counting them to see if it was a full pack then the door opened and the tall lad from the tv room walked in I stayed were I was but I was nervous anxious he had his back to me but his hands were typically still down his tracksuit bottoms

He started to ask me if I liked it when my brother had touched me and had I sucked him off I was very scared and said that I had sucked him off, but that it was me touching him more than my brothers touching me, he turned around and he had a huge penis in his hand slowly moving the skin back and forth and moved towards me it was at head height and he was pushing it into my face trying to force it between my lips, he was so hard I tried to resist but he pleaded with me, “Go on it’s okay no one will know,” he urged. I tried to keep my lips tightly closed but fear and anxiety was making my mouth really dry and I had to open my mouth to breath and licked my lips but ended up licking the oozing glisten from the tip of his cock he was moaning with pleasure and I remember that the sooner he finishes the sooner I can get out of here so before I knew it I was eagerly submitting to him as he pushed his cock further into my mouth and throat until again a warm taste of that familiar cream exploded into my mouth He just kept shooting his cum which seemed to go on forever. I cannot describe the taste, warm sweet salty I’m not sure.

A Cautionary Tale Afterward, the older boy seemed genuinely nice, apologising for what had happened. I reassured him that it was okay, that I wouldn’t tell anyone. In return, he shared a warning about someone he called the Night-man. He said not to mess around at night because the tyrant was back from leave, and he was dangerous. I felt a chill at the thought, sensing that I had somehow avoided this man, but I had no idea who he truly was.

The Atmosphere Shifts That night, as everyone was heading to their bedrooms, I caught sight of a tall man in the office. The atmosphere shifted dramatically; the other kids looked physically terrified. I thought to myself, This must be the tyrant they warned me about. As I settled into a room with seven or eight other boys, I heard him coming around, poking his nose into each room to do a count.

A Moment of Fear I made the mistake of glancing up at him, and in an instant, terror washed over me. I reprimanded myself for looking, knowing I had just drawn attention. “You!” he shouted across the room. “Who are you looking at?”

“No one, sir,” I replied, my voice shaky. “I didn’t mean to—”

“What? I’m no one, am I?” His tone was thunderous as he took four steps closer, towering over me. My vulnerability hit me hard; my pyjama bottoms were too big and rolled up at the bottom, I had to hold them up with one hand, and without any underwear, I felt completely exposed.

“Am I going to have trouble with you, boy?” he asked, his voice low and menacing.

“No, sir,” I stammered. “What is your name? You look like trouble to me.”

I managed to give him my name, my heart racing as I climbed into bed. As he walked out, I let out a sigh of relief, thinking I had escaped his scrutiny.

A Growing Dread Moments later, an older boy entered the room and whispered, “Watch out. He’s reading someone’s file.” My stomach dropped.

“What colour is the file?” I pressed, feeling the tension in the air rise as the other boys began talking, even arguing, adding to the chaotic noise around us.

Just then, we heard doors unlocking, shouting, and heavy footsteps in the corridor. I looked at the older boy, and he locked eyes with me, his expression grave. He mouthed a single word: “Blue.”

Anticipation of Fear The significance of that colour hung in the air, intensifying my anxiety. I understood then that the night was just beginning, and the fear of what was to come loomed large over all of us.

He glared in my direction as he entered the room, the smell of alcohol heavy in the air. “Who is making all the noise?” he demanded, his gaze locking onto me.

“Not me, sir,” I replied, my voice trembling.

“I don’t believe you. I knew you would be trouble. Come with me.”

Panic surged within me. I didn’t want to go with him, but I couldn’t bring myself to defy him. “No, sir, it wasn’t me—”

“Who was it, then?” His tone was sharp, and I realised I couldn’t betray the others. I felt trapped, terrified of what he might do.

The Reluctant Obedience His voice rose, and he screamed at me to get out of bed and follow him. I had no choice but to obey, my heart racing as I walked into the dimly lit corridor tightly grasping my pyjama waistband. The door closed behind us with a heavy thud, and I felt his hand grip the back of my neck roughly, guiding me through the labyrinth of hallways.