I, Arianne Hudson was fifteen when my parents were murdered.

I had such high hopes for myself at fifteen. I wanted to go into music; everyone said I had the talent. But my hopes for that died with my parents.

It was a burglary, no particular care for who the owners of the house were. Mum and Dad had taken me to the ballet, "Romeo and Juliet" because I had loved the music since I was a small child. We were home late.

I was upstairs, brushing my teeth and changing into my pyjamas when they came. I only heard the shouts and then a blood-curdling scream from my mother which was silenced seconds later. The burglars didn't bother to check upstairs, just taking what they could find downstairs and my mother's jewellery off her dying body.

They died before the police and the ambulance arrived. Stab wounds to the chest. The murderers of my parents were never caught, never punished for shattering my whole world.

I was sent to the local Care Home before the courts had even finished dealing with the case and they all hated the fact that they were forced to look after a fifteen year old, after all Care Homes were for little children. I was thrown into the worst school in the area because I had no parents to care whether I got to study well or to fight for my rights. They hated me at school and no one was there to prevent the unfair punishments or explain to the teachers that the other kids were cruel.

The staff at the Care Home couldn't care less; they were more interested in the four and five year olds that they had chosen to work with, the "cute" ones. The lucky ones that didn't understand that they were missing a huge part of their lives. Didn't know that their parents had died or had had them taken away or didn't want the weight of responsibility on their shoulders.

I went to live with several foster families but I never settled. It seemed almost as soon as I arrived that they'd attain some sort of disease that took up too much time to have a child on their hands or they'd finally become pregnant with the baby they actually wanted.

Finally at seventeen, I learnt the wonders of alcohol to drown sorrows in and I'd sneak away from the Home each night to indulge in underage drinking in the local pubs and bars. This was also where I discovered the distraction of sex. There was nothing like those few moments where I could pretend that I was loved, wrapped in the arms of a stranger who wouldn't think less of me because he didn't know I was an orphan. Someone who took me away from my horrific past and lack of future, forcing me to live in the moment.

When I left the home at eighteen, the whole world free in front of me, it was tempting to continue my life the way I had for the past year. But I soon realised that this was not respectful to my parents' memories and it made me appreciate that there was something I had to do before I could attempt my own future or even present. At the age of eighteen I bought a gun and set off after my parents' murderers.

I would really, REALLY appreciate it if anyone who reads this could leave me any feedback at all.... I really want to know where I can improve this. So please, HELP!


JLF xx

(1st draft- 09/08/10)