Dear mom, dad, Darren and Wayne.

I am in Broken Hill. I never thought I would end up here but in a lot of ways it is O.K.

I was not going to ever get in touch with anyone from my past again. I really didn’t see how it would help. But I have been working on a station for the past few months and I got to thinking it would be better to explain the past instead of trying to ignore it. Maybe by telling why I ran away it would make sense to me.

It started with the night of the party about me getting married. I knew it was not what I wanted. No 17-year-old wants to make a decision like that. Especially with someone they didn’t even like. The only reason Kevin came over and said he was going to marry me was because he had gotten me pregnant. The only reason you were happy, or as dad said I could have done worse. It was like everyone wanted me out of the house, and just because Kevin had a car, and was some stupid footy star, well that was good enough for you. Well it wasn’t good enough for me.

The big mistake I made was not having an abortion. Actually even a bigger mistake was having sex with Kevin. He is a idiot, and then not to have used protection was even more stupid. But it is all too late. This kid is due in November,, four weeks away. Kind of too late to think of an abortion.

I have done what is the best thing I could do. I am putting the kid up for adoption. At least it will have a better chance in life than I did. Someone will adopt it because they want the kid. It won’t grow up like me, feeling unwanted. Sometimes I wonder why you don’t put me up for adoption.

You want to know how I got so messed up in my head? If you had believed me when I told you about dad’s brother molesting me, and you never believed me, maybe he wouldn’t have ended up raping me when I was ten. Things like that don’t go away. And then when I did tell what did I get? I got smacked by my own mother and father.

No, I don’t hate you. I have gone past that.

So I am writing you just so say that I am alive. I really don’t want you writing me back. I surely don’t what Keen to get in touch.

For the first time in my life I feel accepted. Maybe even that people like me. I work hard on this station. I even get respect, something I never got at home and it feels good.

I have a boy friend too. He isn’t a jerk like Kevin. He doesn’t have a car or money. Actually he is an ex-crim, did about three years for armed robbery. But he is a better person than anyone I know from back home. I like the way he treats me. He listens to me and I can tell him anything. he lets me make up my mind what I want to do. He hasn’t said anything about my decision to give the kid up for adoption.

Not that it matters, but his name is Mick. He works hard, and is now in Broken Hill looking for more work. Because of the drought, it has been difficult to get much sheering work up here, or fencing.

I met Mick the night I ran away from home. I just couldn’t take it there anymore. Everyone treated me like shit. I got a ride with a trucker to Warragul. I waited all night to get a ride and then two guys came along and they looked like trouble and I was scarred to go with them. At the same time, Mick came by on his motorcycle. I didn’t want to go with the other two guys and I was so tired, and I definitely didn’t want to go back home so I got on the motorcycle. Mick had just gotten out of prison the day before.

I was just going to ride with Mick for awhile, then maybe head over to Sydney and start a new life. But one day turned into the next week and we were just like stuck together. I haven’t seen him for tow-months because he is working in the Outback doing some fencing but I have written him a couple of letters and he has written me.

I am in a writing mood tonight and just got through writing Mick and thought that since I am in such a great writing mood that I might as well write to my family. I am saying that sarcastically because I don’t feel like I have a family.

The people at Social Security here says I need to get the father’s signature for the adoption to go through. The father? That idiot that never wanted me anyway except to screw? But I will send the papers to you for him to sign and you can send it to the people at Social Security here and the kid will have a proper home.

That’s all I got to say. I doubt I will be in touch again.

Michelle.