Thread: life in OZ (2) Mikayla's journal

THIS IS WHAT YOU WANTED, AND THIS IS WHAT I AM.


My name is Mikayla Krieg. Most people call me Mika. Mum calls me Mika. And her friends that can remember my name call me Mika too. I live in Kensington, Melbourne. In a commission flat with my mother Fran, her current boyfriend Jimmy, his two leeches Vince and Tracey. By leeches I mean the type who stick on to people and suck all the goodness out of them, then leave them high and dry. Not even high most of the time. Being high is the motivation in most of the people the surround me. They live to be high. Sometimes I live to be high, but in a different sense.
I have a small room, it has a broken window at the moment. Actually it has had a broken window for the last five weeks. Fran keeps saying that she is going to get it fixed, but she always forgets. She F#ing forgets everything. It sh$ts me more than anything.
I don’t like writing this, I don’t like being forced to do things. So don’t except this to be happy story, because it pisses me off just having to sit here and write this stuff. So I put it to you like this, if you want the truth then you’ve got the truth right here. And if you are going to keep your promise never to read it without my permission (which you’ll never get) you won’t mind me adding that I think you are a F#ING S**T for making me write this. So without any further ado, I shall continue.
Fran, my mum, got pregnant when she was 14. To some bloke she won’t say much about. Either because it hurts her, or she just can’t remember. I think the latter is more likely. I know my dad’s name was William Spyder. Anyhow, he never knew about me, because mum found out she was knocked up and she ran away. Her dad was a bad alcoholic and used to bash the crap out her and her mum, so she ran for her life. And ended up in Sydney. It was here that she first started getting into drugs. Beforehand, her father was so strict that she used to sneak out and fuck the guys at the footy club then come home giggling with all her friends and fall asleep smiling in defiance of her father. Mum reckons, she would’ve never had been so bad if they hadn’t of made it so restricted. It was thrill of what was not allowed. I think that she was just a s#t. I have always thought that mum was a ??? I’ve told her and she even agrees sometimes. She just says that she enjoys sex and I can’t argue with that. Who doesn’t?
Mum had me in Sydney, in December 1985. I asked her how she afforded to live in Sydney after she had me, she couldn’t ever answer me. I have always thought that she was a hooker, in the distant childhood memories I have I remember waking up every now and then and mum not being there. I would walk around our one bedroom unit, then go back to bed alone. It sad when you think about it, but I have always thought that I would be better off without mum. It the truth, she agrees to, but she wouldn’t be better off without me. I couldn’t live with myself if I gave up now; we’ve been through so much, it’s just necessary to finish the ride.
Mum and I moved in with Marco, this Turkish guy she saw for a while. He was a big wheeler and dealer, so his house was similar to a drop in centre. It was happening at all hours of the day. Mum seemed unaffected, even to be enjoying herself. I was enjoying life too though. Every morning I would wake up and the house keeper would make me breakfast and give me five dollars to buy my lunch with. Even on the weekends. Marco lived in this huge house in the apartment in the inner-city of Sydney. It was luxury to two scrubbers like mum and I. When I was six years old, mum got arrested for dealing speed at a local nightclub. She made a deal with the cops, to dog Marco, who the police had been targeting for the last three years. Marco got 67 pounds of heroin brought to the apartment, 6 days before Christmas. Three days after my birthday. No one ever thought that I knew everything; they would talk around me and simply assume that I was too young to interpret what they were saying. But I knew what 67 pounds of heroin was. And so did mum, she rang her police connection to further their arrangement. Mum then emptied Marco’s safe and took all his jewelry and ten pounds of heroin for herself, packed up the car and we took off to Melbourne. I never heard if the police bust was successful or not, we were gone long before the cops arrived, Marco’s probably still doing time. Well, for mum’s sake, let’s hope so.

very mature writing for such a young person. I am also in education, although senior and have seen some eye opening musings from students. Although still often shocked, cease to be surprised. What does that say about us and our society? Bouncing Tiger, do you mind if I ask when this was given to you and did you actually use real names , permission etc.? Just a thought .

I thought that would be obvious!!!! It is not real

oh silly me, i thought it was a student, h a ha

thorsten thought the same thing!! It must be my great writing style gets mistaken for a thirteen year old's!!!!!
:o

Guddonya!

Was kinda looking forward to that 'short lived' but intensly prolific outpouring once she secured a good publisher at 17.

It is just my writings !!! But I'm not that old. Is there hope?

going to hound you mercilessly for more! Starting now: More, more! :)