Little girl, you are beautiful.

RIGHT RIGHT TURN OFF THE LIGHTS, WE GONNA LOSE OUR MINDS TONIGHT, WHAT’S THE DEALIO???  I LOVE WHEN ITS ALL TOO MUCH, TURN THE RADIO UP, BODY CRASHER, PENNY SNATCHER….!!’

Pink shouts at me from my decaying IPod headphones as I start to feel a little more confident about the upcoming journey and approach the top of the escalator at picadilly station, imagining myself in a music video.

I am so cool, I am also free for a whole weekend, I should have been a rock star!!

‘BODY SNATCHER, PENNY CATCHER, CALL ME UP IF YOU A GANGSTER, SO RAISE YOUR GLASS IF YOU ARE WRONG…’

I reach the top of the escalator, step off and stop for a second to collect myself.

And literally, the next thing I know I am on the floor, my jaw aching and a pain I haven’t felt since childbirth emanating from my toe (childbirth may be a little exaggeration) my vision completely blurred by a rush of movement, the floor and the hair I just spent an hour drying.

I try to turn to get my bearings but very quickly understand I am still being accosted by something, being pushed and shoved and someone seems to be standing on me.

‘BODY CRASHER, PENNY SNATCHER, WHY SO SERIOUS?’ pink asks me, still in complete control of my hearing and now quite sinisterly providing an unwanted soundtrack to whatever the hell is going on.

From somewhere behind Pink, as I am trying to stand up and get whatever it is off me, I can hear people shouting expletives and screaming.

‘WE WILL NEVER BE NEVER BE ANYTHING BUT LOUD AND DIRTY LITTLE FREAKS…’

I catch flashes of yellow and orange out of the very corners of my peripheral vision as I finally stand up and move the hair out of my face and push someone away. As I do, the first chance I have had to, I yank my headphones out of my ears and realise it is actually me screaming and shouting.

I close my mouth as the shakes start.

I turn around and come face to face with a policeman who is trying to body block me from whatever is going on behind him. Luckily for me he is a short arse and even though he is asking me if I am ok, I ignore him, too busy trying to catch sight and gain an understanding of what has just happened to me.

I see what appears to be a very drunk older gentleman dressed in a scabby, stained yellow pair of pale blue jeans and a dark brown wool jumper leering towards a woman stood opposite him, who is quite clearly a junkie.

Her legs are full of scratches. Her hair is thinning and piled on her head, she has two teeth if any and her eyes are rolling about her head as she tries to focus on what is going in front of her.

I look down and my heart literally jumps in to my mouth when I see a very young child pressed up behind the junkies legs, hiding, trembling and sobbing.

I take a step to the right to get a better view, the police man still yabbering on in my ear, unnoticed.

I think he is trying to get my attention, asking me if I am ok, telling me I got caught in the cross fire of a domestic incident and do I want to make a statement.

I continue to nod and shake my head, polite but ignoring him and focus on the little girl and the woman who is now so busy shouting abuse at her no doubt tool of a boyfriend, she has failed to notice her daughters legs are about to buckle from underneath her.

I step out from around the policeman again and quickly head for the little girl.

Thinking back now I am surprised he didn’t stop me.

If the Irish one had been present he would have told me to stay out of it.

If my dad had been present he would have been to busy punching the yob.

If my mum had been present she would have been screaming.

If my best friend had been present she would have been doing EXACTLY THE SAME THING I WAS.

Which is why I did it.

I crouched down beside the little girl, trying not to feel scared by the absolutely disgusting language falling from the ‘grown ups’ mouths, language that even as a hardened swearer (!?) was making my toes curl, and asked her if she was ok very quietly.

‘Hey,’ I smiled at her as kindly as I could, imagining just for a second that this was Addison I was talking to, ‘are you hiding?’

And the strangest thing happened.

She wrapped her arms around me and wanted to be picked up.

I shit myself.

But I picked her up, hoping that her mum wouldn’t claw my eyes out when she noticed. (It’s all very well being brave but fuck me I was scared.)

‘Are you going somewhere nice?’ I asked her, the tremor in my voice giving away my fear (I know now that this seems like an idiotic things to ask but seriously, I was in shock and was trying to distract her, and it is the first thing I thought of, AND we were in a train station ok?)

‘No.’ she said quietly in to my shoulder ‘my daddy is a drinkaholic and me and mummy was going to stay with my aunty, but my daddy doesn’t want me to go and now the police are here to take me away.’

My heart actually cracked in half.

What do you say to that?

Unfortunately I did not get chance to respond anyway as her mother yanked her out of my arms calling her a little cunt, and then me something un decipherable.

Yes. She called her petrified daughter a little cunt.

And while I stood and stared at her in complete shock, she tried to run off, stumbling and falling, swearing and screaming, with her daughter in her arms.

Her daughter.

I had to walk away. What else could I do?

I am on the train now, a stiff drink in my hand and just about calming down.

My heart however is still with that little girl.

Who most definitely isn’t a little cunt.

But her parents, most definitely are.

I pray she will be ok.

Advertisements

25 Comments on “Little girl, you are beautiful.

  1. That’s awful!!

    Sometimes you find yourself in a situation and you can do nothing. Horrible.
    Once I was at a fireworks display in Edinburgh, it was really crowded and as I tried to squeeze through the crowds with my kids a woman asked her boyfriend to move out of my way. He responded by punching her to the ground. I couldn’t do anything, I had my kids to look out for. Horrible.

    I’m so glad you hugged the little girl. She’ll remember that, it will be a light in her dark life. x

  2. Just read this and it wrenched my heart out reading it, that poor little girl, how can a parent even be like that 😦 you brave and lovely lady for giving her that moment of kindness x

  3. I just found you through the #MADblogawards. Congratulations on your win. What a terrible thing to have happened and to have been involved in. I can’t stop thinking about that little girl now but I pray she will go to a loveing foster home.

  4. Some folk should not have kids. That poor beautiful little Angel! I’m a strong believer in fate, I think she needed you today…perhaps that one lovely lady who was nice to her has changed her future into something amazing. So many children out there with the most god awful parents…breaks my heart, than you for writing this post babe!

  5. You are such a good person to try and help her and to have picked her up when she needed safe arms.
    I couldn’t of done what you did. I have lots of respect for you.

  6. Poor baby. And the policeman let her go?! sorry you had to deal with that, but for the little girls’ sake, so glad you were there..that hug will stay with her for a long time.

  7. Literally shaking after reading this. Utterly heartbreaking. Saw this too often where we used to live in Cardiff. Wish all these children could be saved. Any mother would have done what you did. I hope your kindness made even the slightest bit of difference to that little girl, futile as it is to feel like that. I need to hug my boys now x

  8. I’m say at piccadilly station shaking. I would have done the same and have done. Poor darling girl

  9. oh my goodness that is awful. I would have done the exact same thing as you. I just don’t understand some people. Huge big hugs honey, not what you needed. I too pray that the little girl will be ok hugs x

  10. Oh my god what a horrific thing to have to witness, and that poor little girl. I’m not sure I’d have been able to do what you did Lexy, but I’m sure she appreciated it, that brief moment of kindness. As for the parents, and the mother… I despise the ‘c word’ being used, but against her own daughter? Just disgusting 😦

    • I was shaking like a leaf after a while but i spoke to the irish one and he calmed me down and ive had to change my jeans cos they were filthy. it was just so sad but all happened in about 2 minutes. this is why i hate going in to the center of manchester. junkie’s bloody everywheere. my toe is killing too, just feel a bit qworried for the gil but the copper said there is no point as she will probably be better off in care. so sad though.

      • This has made me cry. It’s just so sad. That poor little girl 😦

        Im glad you’re ok though Hun xxx

Ah go on go on go on - reply?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

whocareswhatithinkanyway

Reviews, news and immaterial opinions...

CHOL PALAI

Tales of Travel

Mr Oliver.

Gaming, Music & Movies

biffandkate

parenting anxiety panic love laughter

Madre se aprende

Porque nadie nació sabiendo

A Box of Fluffies

The fluffy and not so fluffy of mummyhood: Memoirs and musings

Victorian Mini

Adventures in Modeling

feeding my intolerant child

Overcoming the challenges of food intolerance

The Tipsy Runner

One step at a time.......

Mum Muddling Through

Mum with more questions than answers

madchesh

The ravings of a Gay man with a personality disorder and HIV. I'm a catch!

Pets & Mental Health

Life, Mental Health, Anxiety, Depression, Health, Family, Knitting, Crochet, oh and pets! Lots of Pets! <3

Not Another Mum and baby group

A place for mums to get together for support and socialising

meandmegirl

Me & Me Girl (MG) on a mission to change the world, one bit at a time...

Days in Bed

Written By A Mother WIth Chronic Illness

scar

where three roads meet, there she is standing

Dad Without A Map

Unwrapping parenthood one nappy at a time

Weight Watchers Vegetarian

Vegetarian and vegan recipes and ideas for following Weight Watchers UK

improperly forward

A WORLD OF BEAUTIFUL CONTRADICTIONS

Sarsm's Blog

Quest for humour in my existence

Theplumbum's Blog

Stuff and me

julius22193

keep going

Be Like Water

Music, Film and Life

A Cornish Mum

Cornwall, Lifestyle, Parenting, Type 1 Diabetes Blog

Dear Mummy Blog

The travellings of Baby Isabella

Big Red Carpet Nursing

Fun & Progress!

Bipolarparent's Blog

Bipolar, Parenting, social services involvement but mostly me

Right from the Start

Play, Early Education and more...

HonieMummy Blog

The ramblings & goings on of the HonieHouse, HonieKitchen & HonieLikes

Tales from inside

Our family life

Oscar Relentos

Welcome to my catharsis

VAGABOND CITY

A digital space feat. poetry, art, nonfiction, interviews, and reviews by marginalized creators.

ScouseDad

Ey Ey Ey Calm Down!!!

Long Distance Daughter

Support on the journey of caring for aging parents

Doodlemum

a day in the life of my sketchbook...

A Mum on a Mission

ONE MUM'S BLOG OF HOW HER WORLD GOES ROUND!

Nothing But Words & Wine

Often Wine Sodden, always Emotional musings of a single Mummy sinking under the housework.

Mum on the brink

Parenting, travel and technology... and more

Living otherwise

another view on how we make it up

A Write Relief... (for PND)

A thirty-something mum's journey through postnatal depression... and beyond!

Typecast

Just another WordPress.com weblog

%d bloggers like this: