The Battle of Hastings 1066


Ever since I was a young lad I never the real experience of love of any kind. Since the day I was born my mother and Father. Left me to fend for myself any time they would eat they would leave the scraps of whatever was burnt, cold or not cooked. Well that’s what Mary told me and she didn’t like telling lies.

Mary is my Foster mother she has never stopped caring for me and given me a home school education while working ten hours a day and time to visit the local charity. Now that is what you call multitasking. She always had that tired look on her face, always brushing away frantically at her crimson red hair. However underneath that stressed face in the corner of her twinkling ocean blue eyes was a sparkle of hope. Every morning I would wake up and say hello to Mary while she made cereal in the morning before anything else, just so I could see that perfectly place smile and those cherry rose cheeks light up and know that someone cared for you unlike your own parents really does make you fully emotional.

One evening Mary came home tired as always but still had time for her number one star. (that was me) Although Mary looked okay she didn’t have that usual look about her she seemed quite drowsy and weak but I thought it would brush over. After making me dinner she got up and went up stairs in a rushing way and went straight to the toilet. Suddenly I heard a sudden creak of the door and a heavy thud. I rushed up the stairs to find Mary passed out on the floor with the toilet bowl full of blood and the floor stained.