His Story Part 2

5.

After everything, all the preparation, all the planning and all of his determination, the climax. He was released. That first day, he again demonstrated his odd priorities and refused to come and see me until after he had seen to his 'disgusting' hair. In he wandered, more full of life then he had been for some time. Full of optimism and still, full of plans. Adamant he would make the hour plus journey to come and see me, rather than a stranger, someone who did not care as much. For no matter how much I tried, that boy worked his way into my heart and under my skin. Not in a way that was deemed inappropriate. But in a way that would break my heart many times.

He was good. Initially, he was very good. He stayed where he was supposed to, he told his mother where he was going, and when, and for the most part it seemed honest. They both told me on multiple occasions that Protective Services still had done nothing, despite their promises of the world. The frustration at this was evident, and though I tried, there was nothing I could do to breach this gap.

Slowly I moved him to a different office. Until the last time I saw him, and took that young man out for lunch. He still had plans, but they were less in focus. His stepfather was due back shortly, and he was unsure how that might affect the family dynamics. He had a place of his own, but at that time, preferred to be a 'mummas boy'. Surprisingly his words, not mine. I encouraged him to keep his focus, and to get through what we thought was the 'danger period' - Christmas, New Years Eve, Australia Day, his birthday. Then, if he could manage those, he would be home free. Ideological. In hindsight.


6.

Not long after Christmas his Psychologist called me. He had put off a couple of appointments and she had some concerns about that. Then came the phone call.


7.

He had lost his mind. He had fallen back into old patterns, those which he had been so adamant he would not. He had made some unwise choices and resorted back to his patterns of mindless violence for control. I always knew it was not far under the surface. I did not realise how quickly he could make the change. Alcohol, drugs, peers and suddenly the man with the plan disappeared and the man who only knew violence and power, who buried any softness and who had no regard for others was back. Unsuspecting and undeserving victims fell to the wayside once more, and the man I had come to know and respect a great deal has once again been buried.


8.

He has the luck of a cat though. He went to the police. They let him go with his mother. He went to Court. They let him go with his mother. I know no more than that. I know of the young man who has so much potential, but who lets his own intelligence become something he runs from. I know that the scars of the past may be too much for him to overcome. I know that I have too much hope for that young man, and that is where the heartbreak lies. Its another reminder of why it can be so dangerous to get caught up at work. But the thing I hold onto is that while I was there, I did what I could. I did by him as best as I could, and I encouraged him to see beyond the future he had planned for himself. For a while he had a different future mapped out, and maybe one day he will remember and be in a place where he can move towards that plan.

Everywhere you look, just under the surface, people are always not exactly what they seem. My broken boy will haunt the rest of my life, and be a reminder.