By the bridge, where I slapped Marie, is a church. It’s like a church but not a proper one like the church round the corner from our house near the paper shop. Every Sunday you can hear an angry voice shouting at everyone, really shouting. I looked in once to see what was happening and I saw this black man stood at the front shouting things at everyone. The voice is so loud and scary. But for some reason everyone always ends up singing afterwards and they sound happy. One Sunday I saw my friend Marc DeCosta there. He told me that he goes to Sunday school. I don’t know why anyone would want to go to school on Sunday when they don’t have to.

One afternoon when I was coming out from school once there were friendly people giving out posters and badges which said ‘Hi there, be there!’ It sounded like a weekly youth club where there was fun and games and a disco, so I asked my mum if I could go. She wasn’t sure at first but after she said it was okay. It was at that church near the bridge where I slapped Marie.

When I went into the hall I was given a badge which said ‘Hi there, be there,’ on it. Inside there was a stage and some people at the front with guitars and a projection screen with words on it. There were a lot of kids there and the friendly people were sitting at the front wearing bright-coloured t-shirts. ‘Hi there!’ they called out. At first they said how important families were and how they always forgave us no matter what we did. This made me feel good about myself because I often wondered why my family are miserable. Then the friendly people played some songs on their guitars and we joined in with the chorus on the screen, clapping our hands. Everyone seemed to enjoy it, and we sang along. Everyone was smiling. The adults sounded like they were from America. I liked this because sometimes I imagined that Bristol was America. They’d shout ‘Hi there!’ and we’d reply ‘Be there!’ After some more songs and some fizzy drinks they played us a film on the screen, but it wasn’t like a real film but slides but we could hear the sound of the people in the film talking. The film was about a dad and his son. The dad told his son that it was time for bed and he had to go to his room. When the dad went upstairs to check the boy was playing games in his room. His dad told him to turn the light off, but his son said that his dad only told him to go to his room. He didn’t tell him anything about turning the light off. I thought that was funny, and we were laughing. His dad shouted at him and he had to turn the light off, but the boy got angry and said that it wasn’t fair and he wasn’t allowed to do anything. So the boy said he was going to move out and took his tent into the yard. He took some food with him and went outside. When it was dark the boy got scared and put the torch on and took out some food but he needed a can opener. When he went to the kitchen it was locked so he went back in the tent. But it was cold in the tent and he was getting scared and hungry. The boy went to sleep, and moaned about his dad. When he woke up he found that he had an extra blanket on him and a can opener. He thought his dad wasn’t so bad after all. He had only tried to look after him. When he went back inside his dad was cooking breakfast and they said sorry to each other. His dad said it was okay but he had to understand that his dad cared about his welfare. He asked his son if he wanted a ‘cowboy breakfast’. (I wonder what a cowboy breakfast is.) If that was me, my mum and dad would be right cheesed off. When we lived with my dad if I was late home after playing out I’d get a clip round the ear and sent to bed without anything to eat or drink. They never worried about me. I’d run away if I knew they’d worry but they’d only get angry and hit me and send me to bed early while everyone else stayed out. When we lived with my dad I was sent to bed early loads of times. Even straight after school. I didn’t like it when it happened in summer because it was still light outside and my friends would call for me and my mum or dad would shout at them and say ‘He’s not coming out until further notice.’ So I would look out of my bedroom window at the kids playing outside and wish I was playing with them. No-one else ever got sent to bed early or hit. That’s why I wished I had a different dad because when he went out to the pub at night I could get up and have something to eat and watch Hammer House of Horror or The Sweeny or Tales of the Unexpected.

I didn’t go to ‘Hi there, be there!’ again because my mum and grandma didn’t think it was a good idea. I told them that there was nothing wrong, everyone was nice and we all sang songs but my granddad said I should listen to my mum. They don’t tell you anything older people. They’re boring and grumpy. I think it’s because they are jealous.