When my mum told me that we would be staying in a women’s refuge I was devastated. As soon as I heard the word refuge I immediately imagined a scene from “Bad Girls” just like a prison.
I thought we’d be locked in there and wouldn’t be able to go outside. I though there would be a hall with lots of doors leading to horrible little rooms with two trampy beds and a sink the size of a dish. I thought we’d have to share one bathroom and that the place would be swarming with druggies. My hopes of still being able to live a normal life in a nice home dropped immensely. I would rather have lived in a cardboard box.
When we turned around the corner and I saw Marion House, I realised my thoughts had been totally wrong. We went inside and it was beautiful, the walls were brightly coloured and the whole house was beautifully furnished. It was better than my old house. Everyone made us feel really welcome and started chatting to us straight away. Also we had our own bathroom!