Schoolgirl Almost Abducted
Without Prejudice
When my foster daughter, M, was just 13, she was terrified by an almost abduction that haunts her at times, still, 24 years later.
She had come to live with me through my third daughter, A. The young girl who had come to live with us had lost her Mum at 11. She had six siblings, a large sprawling family who had to take charge of themselves. On the Mums death all the kids were sent to Allambie Children's home and all of them ran away except M. They left her behind and returned to their Keysborough home, their Father presiding as parent, but he was not a well man.
DHS had placed a housekeeper into the home but the kids hated this interloper and refused to help her or even like her, mainly as they were all still reeling from their Mothers death. Most of them were older teenagers. M was 5th in line at 13 and by her background was a tough, feisty street wise little girl. She was disgusted by the Principal who had informed her of her Mothers death in her office. M felt like she was supposed to break down but decided right then and there in the Principals office not to. She would save her tears for home.
Because she hated her situation at home she stayed at friends homes and one family wanted to adopt her. One of the teachers at Allambie had wanted to do the same. M was an appealing child and came to stay at our house after a family tragedy. She knew what A.was going through and came to be of comfort to the family. I remember those days, how surreal it all was, and M and A bonded during that time and it was almost Summer Holidays anyway.
M said she had a Dad, who worked all the time in a factory and Yes, he knew where she was. She slotted in under my other girls ages, 19, 18, 15. She hadn't been going to school much and I insisted she go. She was bright and academic underneath all the tough swagger, but still a young vulnerable girl. She had had years of good parenting by her ethnic Mum and had good standards, sadly the Dad was a war damaged man from Macedonia, one of the successor states from the former Yugoslavia.
He was paranoid schizophrenic, very ill and pretty much threw in the towel when his wife died. The first time I had reason to visit M's former home I was appalled at the house and teen kids roaming everywhere. M had borrowed one of my daughters BMX bike, after attending a birthday party and I ended up going to M's house to collect it.
The house was in a quiet cul de sac near where we lived and around the corner from Chandler High School, where M and A attended. Graffiti covered the front brick wall that hid most of the front of the house. Kids, mainly boys, seemed to surge around everywhere and the front door was wide open. Brown streaks were smeared down the passage as I gazed in the open doorway, the lounge room that lay to my left looked fairly orderly as I gained a peek through net curtains. But it also seemed to be heaving with kids.
I grabbed hold of one of them and asked for M's whereabouts, and he just shrugged and said she wasn't there. I asked about the bike and he pointed to the backyard where several bikes in bits lay upended on the concrete. I figured I wasn't getting the B M X back any time soon and told the boy to tell her to come and see me. At that time she was just some annoying kid that was allowed to run wild.
By the time I met her again I had forgotten all about the bike and was more or less embracing her into the family. My ex husband and I had split up and he lived elsewhere, but returned home after the Family tragedy, to be " Of Comfort " to the girls and I. We as a family were in a very black place at that time, reeling in shock and a hundred times more dysfunctional than we ever had been.
One day we received a call from Human Services about M. We were asked by a Social Worker on the other end of the phone if we realised M was a ward of the state ? Not that M was in any trouble, just that as the Mum had died and Dad wasnt well, the kids in the family under the age of 16 were Wards of the State until they were 16.
The social worker came to see us after we both said it was fine for her to stay. She told us a little of M's background, but we were glad she was there for our own child so she was allowed to stay and a few months later I became her legal guardian. By that time my ex husband had left for good and seriously it was one less thing I had to think about.
The day she was almost abducted was just like any other day. My ex husband and I ran a business in those days. I was at work and M was running late for school. This happened a bit but at least she was getting there and the more she attended the better her marks, shocking both of us. She was coming home with A's and B pluses.
We lived in a court in Keysborough with a tiny park at the end and the girls cut through there, using it as a shortcut. The gravel path ran into a conjoined court that ran behind our house. M was in her short schoolgirl summer dress, a wind cheater sweater tied around her hips, short socks and school shoes. She was in a hurry, keeping her head down, half walking, half running, back pack on full of heavy books.
As she entered the park she noticed what she thought was a youth sitting on the park bench, his head down and he was wearing a baseball cap pulled down over his eyes. She barely glanced at him, intent as she was on getting to school.
To be continued......
When my foster daughter, M, was just 13, she was terrified by an almost abduction that haunts her at times, still, 24 years later.
She had come to live with me through my third daughter, A. The young girl who had come to live with us had lost her Mum at 11. She had six siblings, a large sprawling family who had to take charge of themselves. On the Mums death all the kids were sent to Allambie Children's home and all of them ran away except M. They left her behind and returned to their Keysborough home, their Father presiding as parent, but he was not a well man.
DHS had placed a housekeeper into the home but the kids hated this interloper and refused to help her or even like her, mainly as they were all still reeling from their Mothers death. Most of them were older teenagers. M was 5th in line at 13 and by her background was a tough, feisty street wise little girl. She was disgusted by the Principal who had informed her of her Mothers death in her office. M felt like she was supposed to break down but decided right then and there in the Principals office not to. She would save her tears for home.
Because she hated her situation at home she stayed at friends homes and one family wanted to adopt her. One of the teachers at Allambie had wanted to do the same. M was an appealing child and came to stay at our house after a family tragedy. She knew what A.was going through and came to be of comfort to the family. I remember those days, how surreal it all was, and M and A bonded during that time and it was almost Summer Holidays anyway.
M said she had a Dad, who worked all the time in a factory and Yes, he knew where she was. She slotted in under my other girls ages, 19, 18, 15. She hadn't been going to school much and I insisted she go. She was bright and academic underneath all the tough swagger, but still a young vulnerable girl. She had had years of good parenting by her ethnic Mum and had good standards, sadly the Dad was a war damaged man from Macedonia, one of the successor states from the former Yugoslavia.
He was paranoid schizophrenic, very ill and pretty much threw in the towel when his wife died. The first time I had reason to visit M's former home I was appalled at the house and teen kids roaming everywhere. M had borrowed one of my daughters BMX bike, after attending a birthday party and I ended up going to M's house to collect it.
The house was in a quiet cul de sac near where we lived and around the corner from Chandler High School, where M and A attended. Graffiti covered the front brick wall that hid most of the front of the house. Kids, mainly boys, seemed to surge around everywhere and the front door was wide open. Brown streaks were smeared down the passage as I gazed in the open doorway, the lounge room that lay to my left looked fairly orderly as I gained a peek through net curtains. But it also seemed to be heaving with kids.
I grabbed hold of one of them and asked for M's whereabouts, and he just shrugged and said she wasn't there. I asked about the bike and he pointed to the backyard where several bikes in bits lay upended on the concrete. I figured I wasn't getting the B M X back any time soon and told the boy to tell her to come and see me. At that time she was just some annoying kid that was allowed to run wild.
By the time I met her again I had forgotten all about the bike and was more or less embracing her into the family. My ex husband and I had split up and he lived elsewhere, but returned home after the Family tragedy, to be " Of Comfort " to the girls and I. We as a family were in a very black place at that time, reeling in shock and a hundred times more dysfunctional than we ever had been.
One day we received a call from Human Services about M. We were asked by a Social Worker on the other end of the phone if we realised M was a ward of the state ? Not that M was in any trouble, just that as the Mum had died and Dad wasnt well, the kids in the family under the age of 16 were Wards of the State until they were 16.
The social worker came to see us after we both said it was fine for her to stay. She told us a little of M's background, but we were glad she was there for our own child so she was allowed to stay and a few months later I became her legal guardian. By that time my ex husband had left for good and seriously it was one less thing I had to think about.
The day she was almost abducted was just like any other day. My ex husband and I ran a business in those days. I was at work and M was running late for school. This happened a bit but at least she was getting there and the more she attended the better her marks, shocking both of us. She was coming home with A's and B pluses.
We lived in a court in Keysborough with a tiny park at the end and the girls cut through there, using it as a shortcut. The gravel path ran into a conjoined court that ran behind our house. M was in her short schoolgirl summer dress, a wind cheater sweater tied around her hips, short socks and school shoes. She was in a hurry, keeping her head down, half walking, half running, back pack on full of heavy books.
As she entered the park she noticed what she thought was a youth sitting on the park bench, his head down and he was wearing a baseball cap pulled down over his eyes. She barely glanced at him, intent as she was on getting to school.
To be continued......
