Friday 15th August 2008 Going through hell

My world has turned upside down. I don’t know where to turn or what to do.

On Sunday Marty came home after staying the night at a new ‘friend’s’ He walked in with this boy and announced that he had some good news for me.

“Go on.”

“I’m moving out.” He smiled a stupid smile that was half grin and half challenging sneer.

“Are you now?”

“Yep.”

“I think not.”

“I am and you can’t stop me. I’m going to live with V.J. I thought you’d be pleased, you don’t want me here.”

“I think it’s a terrible idea. You’re not going anywhere.”

“Well you’d better knock me out then because it’s the only way you’re going to stop me leaving this house.” And with that he left. I haven’t seen him since. I’ve never seen this new boy before. I don’t know who he is, not even his name. Marty’s phone is constantly switched off and he won’t answer my calls or messages. I have no idea where my son is or worse, what he’s doing.

This boy was filthy dirty. His teeth were all rotten in his mouth; in fact he didn’t have any front teeth at all. He came in with a huge black eye and let’s call a spade a spade he might as well have had ‘drugs’ tattooed on his forehead. I know you shouldn’t make assumptions about people. He may be a grade A student with fifteen A levels and a career as a future brain surgeon … but I doubt it. If it looks like a duck, waddles like a duck and quacks like a duck, then odds are that it’s a duck.

I did what I always do when I have problems with Marty I rang Col. He went mad with me for letting him go. I told him that I’d run out into the street and called after him but he left without a backwards glance and wouldn’t even stop to talk to me. I got home from work on the Monday to find his stereo and television gone along with all of his DVD’s and play station stuff. He hasn’t touched any of his clothes as far as I can see. I wanted to go to the police. This is a sixteen-year-old kid. Col told me not to and that he’d find out where he’s living and drag him home.

Col left on the Monday and I hadn’t heard a word from Marty. I disregarded Col’s advice and went to the police station. The police didn’t want to know. I understand that kids are legally entitled to leave home at sixteen, but I was of the impression that it had to be with parental consent. They explained to me that technically this was true, but … how are they supposed to enforce it. Yes they could find out where he is and drag him home, but how do I plan to enforce it. Can I be there with him and stop him leaving with my voice alone twenty-four hours a day. They were very sympathetic to my plight but basically spread their hands and told me that I’m on my own. They said that they’d put out an A.P.B for him and all the cops would be told to keep an eye out for his name coming up. If they do come across him, hopefully not lying face down dead in the gutter, then they can tell him to ‘get his arse home’ but… get this … they can not tell me where he is, only that he is alive. Well thanks for nothing. They said that if he’s living in a doss hole that he’ll probably be back with his tail between his legs in a week.

And what if he’s not?

Is my son taking drugs?

What kind of people is he associating with?

Is there an adult where he’s living?

Is he eating properly?

Is he working?

He’s been gone for five days without a word. I don’t know where he hangs out and driving round endlessly looking for him every night since he left has proved fruitless.

I rang social services.

He’s not a case on their books and at sixteen he’s almost an adult anyway. Their hands are tied and there’s nothing they can do to help me. Do I have any idea how many cases they have on their books currently without taking on another kid who’s had a tiff with his mum and walked out?

But we didn’t have an argument. This wasn’t done in the heat of the moment; maybe he’d already be home by now if it was. He just walked in and announced that he was leaving. Col knows everybody, but without a name to go on, apart from two random initials, he’s drawn a blank. I don’t know what to do or who to turn to.

My son has been gone for four days now without a word.