Miss Braxton: Home and Away Fanfic

Chapter 9

Bucklecross Grange was a care home situated in the middle of nowhere. It was based in a town so minute and rural that the only way out of it was via the straight main road that cut through it. One direction would lead me to the city, where my mother was hospitalised with her illness and a chance at an independent life on the run awaited me. The other would take me back to Summer Bay; a place I had learnt to love in no time at all. It had dawned on me that perhaps social services had purposely dumped me in the shoddy little town because that way I would feel hopelessly torn between the two ways in which to run in. The city or the Bay?

Every once a day or so a bus might happen to trundle through headed either way, but that was only on occasional weekdays and it was always the same bus driver, who, unfortunately, had been warned not to let me on board. He'd been instructed to contact social services immediately should he see me making a run for the hills. He was the one who had dobbed me in the second time I tried to make a break for freedom. In total, I had made four escape attempts since arriving at Bucklecross Grange. Not a single one had been remotely successful, but I figured it was only a matter of time before I wore my 'carers' (who were more like prison wardens) down. Sooner or later, they'd slip up and I'd get away unnoticed.

It had been several days since I'd been dragged away from my brothers and forced into staying at Bucklecross Grange. I was already sick of the sight of the brightly painted walls, which were decorated in all of the worst shades of colour imaginable to mankind. Blinding sunshine yellow, carrot orange, cat-vomit salmon, pea green the same tinge as mucus... According to the social workers it was an attempt at brightening up the atmosphere and making it a more 'child-friendly home environment'. If you asked me, the kids were already way too at home in Bucklecross Grange. The floors were all littered in trinkets, clothes, wrappers, books and toys; as if the entire place was a bombshell of different children's belongings. There was also an endless ruckus of crying, laughing, screaming or banging. It was enough to drive a person insane. I had barely slept a wink in the time I'd been confined to the care home and not just because I couldn't shake the anxiety of being away from home... wherever home was. Recently, I wasn't even sure if I was pining for the familiar city streets or the quiet beaches of Summer Bay.

I knew that Brax and the rest of my family were fighting incredibly hard with social services to try and gain custody of me, but it was a slow going process. My refusal to stay in the care home along with the fact I insisted upon Brax becoming my legal guardian weighed heavily in our favour, since my personal opinion did seem to count for something (they had decided that fifteen-year-olds ere eligible to decide what they wanted), but my brothers' criminal convictions held us back. Social services claimed that it was an unsafe home and that my brothers and other family members were not capable of providing me with the kind of quality of life I needed. I argued that the quality of life I needed (that being a loving family) was definitely not available to me at Bucklecross Grange.

The squabble over my future never seemed to go anywhere or lead to anything important. At the end of the day, I was still stuck in care, trying my best to escape or make the care worker's lives harder by being as problematic and difficult as I could. I ignored everything they said, rejected everything they gave me, did the opposite of what I was supposed to do and had even ceased eating in a protest to be allowed back home. I figured maybe if I put my own health at risk, then they might have to start listening to what I wanted, and I might be able to scare them into letting me go back to the Bay. It had been three days since I had last touched a crumb. Back when I lived off virtually nothing in the city, going without food was easy, but my appetite had changed since being spoiled for choice by the Braxton family and I'd grown used to an abundance of rich foods. My belly was paying dearly for it now. The hunger pains were unbelievable. But it was worth it just to see the care workers and the social services squirm.