Forgiving Justice

"...So it came a bit of a shock to me when I saw what was happening between Bella and Theo. No one would have guessed that anything like that could happen to us: the happy go lucky Balmers and Kensits living in the big house on the corner. But that’s the funny thing about life.
You never know what’s coming next."

Fifteen year old Natalie Balmer/Kensit has never really felt like she belongs. Throughout her childhood she was continually bounced from one home to another- whilst keeping a terrible secret that her older sister Bella was being brutally abused.
Now, living in care, seperated from her family and in a steady relationship with boyfriend Jasper, Natalie is shocked to find her past being dragged out in front of her.

Theo is back. And his story's in court.

Natalie, as the only witness to Bella and Theo's injustice, is now compelled to make a life changing decision- Keep her families together?

Or serve Bella justice and send her sister to prison?

Coming soon!


2. I Still Try To Pretend That It Wasn't My Fault.


“Bring Bring! Bring Bring! Bring Bring! Bring Bring!”

“Isn’t anyone gonna answer that?” I yelled to the house. Edward and Toby, two adorable yet completely irritable toddlers sat glued to Teletubies. Georgia Richardson, a moody ten-going-on-sixteen year old was slouched on the floor, painting her toenails a deep blood red.

Everyone else was either upstairs locked in their bedrooms or subtly ignoring the phone.

Well, I say locked. We’re not allowed locks on our doors. National Policy. Every time we argue they say, “It’s. Not. That. Simple.”

That’s the worst thing about being in a kid’s home. No privacy. There isn’t even any self-respect. You get everyone laughing at you at school for being in a crappy care home, and the teachers are forever smiling at you with a, You poor little moppet, look all over their faces.

The worst thing is though, that you could bet every last copper that they’ve read your file. They must have read mine a million times. Well, you can’t blame them. Mine must be so interesting that they should publish it. My story would be a bestseller.

The phone continued ringing. Sally called down from the laundry room.

“Oi, Natalie!” She yelled, “Could you get that love?” She poked her head around the staircase. A waterfall of dirty laundry tumbled from the basket. Sally bent over her enormous stomach, gathering up the clothes. “I’m a little caught up here!”

“Sure thing,” I mumbled, and headed for the hall.

Sally’s Head Care-worker of Sunningdale House. Pretty good job she does, too. All the kids love her to bits. Of course there are two other care-workers, Rick and Lily, but they’re barely older than the oldest of us. Lots of us don’t have parents or siblings, and the little ones need someone to be a parent. Sally is the perfect substitute for the real thing. Kind. Caring. Helpful. But she is very strict. Now that I’m fifteen Sally’s forever on my back, asking me where I’m going, how long I’ll be and who I’m with. I suppose that’s the biggest problem. Sally wouldn’t approve of my boyfriend Jasper.

The problem with me is that I’m not used to strict parenting. My mum split with my siblings’ dad when I was born. Lewis I think his name was. Pretty good name compared to my dad’s name, Rusty. I still try to pretend that it wasn’t my fault; but the nightmares remind me every night that it’s all down to me. If wasn’t down to baby Natalie Balmer my family wouldn’t have been split up in the first place. Lewis wouldn’t have been hurt, torn to pieces because my mum had been secretly seeing my dad.


But more importantly, Theo wouldn’t have fallen.


Even when mum got together with Rusty the problems didn’t stop. Firstly, I didn’t belong.

It was obvious when we moved in with my dad’s family there was a cut right down the middle. There were the Balmers, and the Kensits. The problem with me was, that I was a Balmer and a Kensit. I was stuck in the middle. I was the invisible kid. But I saw everything. Everyone underestimated me because I was small, young and scarily timid. I had been so damaged by my first few years that I didn’t even speak until I was three, and even when I opened my mouth I kept it closed for half the time.


“Bring Bring! Bring Bring! Bring…”


I was too late. “Sorry, but the person you are calling are not available right now. Please leave a message after the beep…”

Damn it. Could have been someone important. Yeah right. Did anyone important ever call a crummy kids home? I huffed, and stomped up to my bedroom.

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