Memoriesof prim jacketed youth directing insults at my intelligence cameflooding into my mind.I was twelve, and it was our third move in as many years... I was used tolosing my friends, but I wasn't prepared for the bullying I would face.We had moved overseas for the first and last time. It was the beginningof the end for my family as I knew it. My dad would soon be called toAfghanistan, then Iraq, and as a result, I would lose him for months ata time. In the meantime, my mom tried to be my dad. She opened her trunk and seemed to be struggling to lift goods from her trolleys to the car. I got out of mine and approached her saying "Do you need a hand?", she replied "Oh thankyou that would be a real help", I emptied her trolleys and after filling her boot we were talking, as it turned out she was a single mum of three k**s and was run off her feet at home.We went for a coffee in the market and talked some more, she was 38 and didn't get any time to herself especially since her husband. More

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