WHALE OUT OF WATER

WHALE OUT OF WATER A PROJECT BY HAMMAD RIND WITH SUPPORT FROM LITERATURE WALES & ROYAL COLLEGE OF PSYCHIATRISTS WALES

ABOUT THE PROJECT This collection is part of the Grangetown Whale project led by Hammad Rind with residents of Grangetown. The writing sessions aimed to connect participants to their surroundings and invite them to draw inspiration from walks along the Taff.

The Grangetown Whale project, which provided a platform for participants to express themselves and have their voices heard, was delivered in partnership between Literature Wales and the Royal College of Psychiatrists in Wales as part of the third Writer Commission call-out during the COVID 19 pandemic from March-June 2021.

Grangetown

Art

Trail

and

4Winds

Mental

Health

Resource

Service

(www.4winds.org.uk) partnered on the project helping to facilitate the workshops and creating an art installation with participants for the Grangetown Zoo. Participation in literature activity and Representation and Equality of provision will help positively change the futures of our communities, and the publication of this pamphlet is an important example of how creativity can help change lives, provide platforms for, and encourage under-represented literary voices; creating a national literary culture which represents contemporary Wales.

HAMMAD RIND Hammad Rind was born in Punjab, Pakistan, and currently lives in Cardiff. His first novel, Four Dervishes, a social satire based on a dastan by Persian poet, Amir Khosrow, with elements of magic realism, is due to be published by Seren Books in the summer 2021. He has led a number of writing workshops before including one on ghazal for Seren Poetry Festival and another on storytelling for children in Cardiff. His work has appeared in a number of publications including The Madras Courier, James Joyce Broadsheet, Y Stamp and Porridge Magazine.

Hammad can speak nine languages and incorporates elements of these different languages into his work.

ABOUT LITERATURE WALES Literature Wales is the national company for the development of literature. Our vision is a Wales where literature empowers, improves, and brightens lives. We are a registered charity, and work to inspire communities, develop writers and celebrate the literary culture of Wales. We facilitate, fund, and directly deliver a literary programme across Wales. www.literaturewales.org

ROYAL COLLEGE OF PSYCHIATRISTS IN WALES As the professional medical body for psychiatry in Wales, we set standards and promote excellence in psychiatry and mental healthcare. We lead, represent and support psychiatrists nationally to government and other agencies, aiming to improve the outcomes of people with mental illness, and the mental health of individuals, their families, and communities. We are a devolved nation and council of the Royal College of Psychiatrists. www.rcpsych.ac.uk

TED ON THE BUS

BY LAURA PARSONS Ted had been quite content sitting on the bus. He had been cwtched up in the corner, watching people getting on and off the bus as it heaved through the city streets and out to the nearby towns. Some people had chatted to Mandy as she sat with her mum, they commented on her pretty dress and bonny red cheeks. Mandy had grinned from ear to ear and told them all about the shops they’d been in, how they had bought a big cake to have after tea, and that she’d been so good that mum had bought her a new doll that looked almost the same as Mandy herself.

Mandy was clutching tight to the bag her new doll was in, but mum made her promise to wait until she was home before opening it. Ted knew how tightly Mandy’s grip could be, she had held him that tight before too, that doll was safe in her grasp that’s for sure!

The bus took many corners, made many stops, and many people got on and off the bus. Mandy’s mum had to make room for some of the people as the bus got busier, but everyone squeezed in and politely made small talk as they made their way home. Ted was squashed, but then he knew what it was to be squashed: Mandy loved to hold him tight. Eventually more and more people got off the bus without more people getting on. They spread out and Mandy took to her feet in the centre of the bus to sing songs for anyone who’d listen. She knew she had a pretty voice, and everyone seemed pleased to hear it.

Mandy’s mum pressed the bell to tell the driver to stop, gathered her bags together with the cake box secured under her chin, and took Mandy’s hand to lead her off the bus. As quiet settled in the bus, Ted didn’t feel squashed anymore. He saw people chatting amongst themselves, but no-one needed to sit in the seat by him.

He was quite alone.

Eventually the bus pulled into a dark building and the driver opened his cab. He had a big black plastic bag with him and started walking through the bus checking for rubbish as he went and stuffing the various items into the bag: empty pop bottles, crisp packets, sweet wrappers. Each time he found something he would mutter, and his face would grow darker. He was not happy. As he reached Ted’s seat he stood back, shook his head, and said “I’ll be back for you when I’m done!”

Ted didn’t know what to think but was glad he hadn’t been stuffed into the bag with all those sticky, mucky bottles and packets. Ted waited while the man’s footsteps grew quieter, then he heard the plastic rustle and all the rubbish clatter, then the footstep grew louder again. The man reappeared at the edge of the seat, leaned over and grabbed Ted around his middle. Ted’s head was lolled back, his arms and legs dangling as the man took him from the bus and through a red door at the side of the building. The door led into a brightly lit room, with pale grey walls and a desk. At the desk was another man, sat with his head propped up on one hand, the elbow pinning a newspaper to the desk. In his other hand he held a pen and was scribbling at a crossword puzzle. Ted had seen Mandy doing crosswords, but this one looked much more difficult.

The man carrying Ted tossed him onto the desk and announced, “Another one for you, Bill!” Then he threw the bag of rubbish into a bin in the corner.

The man at the desk pushed his spectacles further up his nose and peered at Ted. “Oh, hey Col, this is a fine fellow! What shall we call him, eh?”

“Honestly Bill, I don’t know why you can’t just stick a number on him and leave it at that. It’s just a bear, another bear, you’ve another half dozen in the back along with a few dolls, cars, and fidget spinners. It’s just a toy!”

“No, no, no, they’re anything but! They’re special, they’re just away from home but they are still special. You’d have them be called bear 1, bear 2, bear 3, and so on, but they’ve got character Col, just like you and me. So, he needs a name.”

“I expect he already has a name!”

“This is his holiday name Col, until their boys or girls come to get them. And let’s face it, some of them don’t.”

When the man called Bill said this Ted suddenly felt very worried. What if Mandy doesn’t come to get him? This place is a long way from where Mandy lives. How will she know to come here to find him? Maybe she doesn’t know that she left him

on the bus. Maybe, oh dear, what if she hasn’t even noticed that he’s missing? She was so happy to have a new doll, and Ted imagined her hurrying from the bus stop ready to open the doll’s box as soon as she got home. She’d hug her and run up to show her to the other toys. She’d make introductions and set up a tea party to welcome the new doll. Mandy had lovely tea parties with her toys. She would always have Ted sat on her knee and he would be squeezed whenever she reached over to pour more tea for the other toys. That was what being loved by Mandy was like. She would always cuddle him in bed until she fell asleep, then she would drop him to the floor and trip over him in the morning. Then as soon as she noticed him she would scoop him up, squeeze him tightly and take him down to breakfast. Ted wanted Mandy to squeeze him now, instead he couldn’t help thinking that the new doll would be sat on her lap right where he should be.

“How about Albert? That’s a fine name for him, don’t you think?”

The man called Col was leaning against the door frame, arms folded across his chest, and looking very grumpy indeed. “Sure, why not.” Just then Ted thought he saw Col smile. Just half a smile really, but it was nice. Then Col coughed and started sorting some papers on the desk.

“Aye, Albert it is. Welcome to the depot Albert! Let me show you around. I’ve plenty of friends for you out in the back. First things first, let’s get your number sorted. This here is your very own membership badge for the Depot Clubhouse.”

Bill tied a label around Ted’s neck on which he’d written “Albert” and a number, then took him through to a back room. In one corner was strung a net with all sorts of toys nestled in together. Underneath was a shelf with cars, fidget spinners and lots of bouncy balls sat in a dish – their membership badges were small white stickers because of their size. Bill made room for Ted between a small brown dog and a Panda that was just a bit bigger than Ted. He introduced Ted to the other toys, or rather he introduced Albert, then asked them all to play nicely and left.

Ted felt very sad indeed. He didn’t mind being with these new toys. He had often met new toys when Mandy would take him to friend’s houses, or to school. What

made him so sad was seeing how many lost and forgotten toys there were.

The small brown dog was the first to speak. “I’m Buster! What’s your name?”

“I’m Ted. Well, that’s what Mandy called me. Is Buster what your boy or girl called you? Or is it your holiday name?”

Ted couldn’t bring himself to say, “new name”. He didn’t want to be called Albert, not now and certainly not forever.

“Oh, I can’t remember” said Buster “does it matter?”

Yes! Oh dear, yes it matters, thought Ted. But he couldn’t say it out loud.

The other toys introduced themselves. Paddy, Lola, Alfie, Bruce, Gina, Bobby, there were so many that Ted couldn’t remember them all. Sometimes he caught sight of their label, but sometimes it matched what they had said, and sometimes it didn’t. It was all very confusing. The toys were very friendly though. Sometimes children pretend that their toys don’t get on well together, but that’s not how Mandy’s toys behaved really and it’s not how these toys were either. They tried to cheer him up, but the only thing that made him feel better was hearing about the toys that had been claimed by their boy or girl. There weren’t many of those.

“If your Mandy comes for you, it’ll be soon,” said Bobby. “After a week or so she’s not coming.”

Bobby was a blue gorilla. His fur was meant to bright blue all over but was faded in patches from being left on a sunny windowsill. He said that his boy had never really hugged him much but did take him to the zoo on the bus one day. Bobby had seen a real gorilla. It was almost exactly like Bobby, except it wasn’t blue, not even in patches. Then Bobby was left on the bus on the way home, just like Ted had been.

“It’s not bad here though. I used to like sitting on the windowsill and watching the

but at least here I get lots of hugs.” Bobby was sat next to a chimpanzee toy with long arms that wrapped around Bobby in a constant hug. Ted couldn’t remember her name, but she had a big smile and kind eyes.

For the first time since he had arrived Ted smiled too. Ted liked to be squeezed and with all of these toys around him he felt squeezed now. Maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.

As Ted started to settle into his new surroundings Bill came back in to get his coat.

“Well, that’s it for today!” he said. “Sleep well, especially you Albert.”

“Bill!” Another voice called through. “Can you come to the front desk before you go?

You know all about lost property.”

“Aye, can do.”

The door closed as Bill started chatting to the people in the next room. After a few minutes Bill opened the door wide with a chuckle and came striding over to the net of toys.

“Albert, you’re wanted my lad! A little miss is here for you. She described you perfectly, right down to your pink paws. Just a short visit to the Depot Clubhouse, but I hope you enjoyed it. Excuse me saying so, but let’s not have you back.”

Bill carefully picked Ted out from the toys and rearranged the others so they would be comfortable.

“You all say your goodbyes now!

As Ted looked back over Bill’s shoulder at the other toys, he saw their beaming smiles and felt very happy to have met them. Most of all he was the happiest he had ever been at the thought of seeing Mandy again and knew she’d squeeze him especially tightly all the way home.

THIS RIVER

BY LAURA PARSONS

This river began many years ago, Just a joyful, gurgling spring at first, Bursting out into the unknown, A rill tumbling over new ground.

Flowing alone, then merging with others, Twists and turns pull this way and that, Droplets mingling into a confusion, One moment in the deep, next rising up.

Each new stream added builds urgency, Currents form and through rocky passages The cadence threatens a perilous future, Tumbling, turning, trying to ride the flow.

New environs bring beauty and risks, Tantalising riverbanks, Menacing rock and weirs Where the ground falls away.

The tumultuous waterfall, That sends each drop of water Cascading from a terrifying precipice, Scatters the river over the boulders beneath.

Drops split off and are trapped In pools to remain stranded, Stagnating and eliminated From the journey that might have been.

Fractured, but flowing on, The way becomes broad and uncertain.

Deep below the surface Lies hidden the grit of the river-bed.

On the surface, blossom petals land And flow amongst the ripples.

Onlookers smile at the Idle peace of the quiet moments.

Yet, rowing boats cut through, Oars slicing and pushing the river aside.

The surface breaks, splitting the sunlit glisten, As it startles the beady eye of a watching bird.

This body moves unlike it once did, Memories of joyful infancy, Tug on the stones that slip by unseen.

The surface is a mask of ripples and reflections.

Still, the journey is obliged to continue Along tides unforeseen by the long-ago spring.

The mystery of the great expanse lies ahead, Promising an end or opening to endlessness.

THE PRINCESS AND THE ORPHANED BOY

BY CARYS WILLIAMS Once upon a time, in a beautiful kingdom, there lived a beautiful princess named Princess Alliah and she was eight years old. She lived with her father, who is the king and she is his only daughter. Alliah has a thin face, long brown hair and beautiful brown eyes. She has a small body and white skin and wears a white dress and a crystal necklace with a dragon on it. Alliah is very smart as she often visits the library and reads books. She is also very polite towards the servants of the castle and she is loved by her people. Her mother unfortunately passed away from an illness, which saddens Alliah a great deal. However, she knows that her mother was a very wise and kind ruler, so Alliah vows that she will study hard and become a really good queen just like her mother.

Her castle is massive with huge hallways and doors, which she is very familiar to her. Her favourite parts of the castle she loves are the library and her bedroom. Her bedroom is a big room with loads of room for her to move around. Her room is white with a light pink theme. Her most favourite part of her room is her big white windows that leads out to her balcony. Alliah would find herself going to the balcony and looking out to view her kingdom, which is a village filled with houses and shops.

Alliah’s hobbies during her time away from her studies and duties are playing her piano and singing beautiful songs. Her father and the servants enjoy listening to her sing as she sings like an angel.

However, Alliah feels isolated and alone most of the time, as she is often left with the servants as her father would often leave to visit the neighbouring kingdoms.

The reason for her sadness is there are no other children living in the castle with her as none of the servants have any children. Hence, Alliah has no friends and for her, there is no one to talk to around her age. Sometimes, she would look out from her balcony and she would watch as children from the village play and socialise together. Alliah sighs as she looks down in sadness and unease.

‘Will I ever have a friend?’ she thought quietly to herself as she leans over the balcony with her hands on it. She hears a small bark and looks down to find her

puppy, Hannah, looking at her with her black tail wagging. Alliah smiles and picks her up easily with her arms. Even though she can’t be friends with other children, she does have a friend in her faithful dog companion.

“I know you are my friend, Hannah,” she said to the puppy. She giggles as Hannah licks her face. “But I would like to have a friend who is human like me. I just feel so alone with no one to talk to, especially with Father going away for several days at a time. I wonder if there is someone out there like me with no friends,” Alliah explains.

A sound of footsteps approached her from behind and she turns to see her father.

He looked at her with a guilty expression on his face.

“I am so sorry about leaving you alone most of the time, Alliah. It’s just a duty that a king must do in order to ensure the kingdom’s safety. This is of course, you would need to do when you are queen one day like your mother,” Alliah’s father explained.

Alliah smiles at him and nods. “I understand, Father, and it’s just as you said duty must come first. I just wish that I have someone around my age to talk to rather than just talking to the servants all the time,” she said.

“Actually, this is what I want to talk to you about,” her father said. Alliah looks at him curiously. “On my way back from meeting with another kingdom, I found this boy wandering through the wilderness, with no family or friends with him. I believe he is an orphan, but he was very hesitant to talk to me. I was wondering if you could,” he further explained.

Alliah looks at her father with worry. Even though she is very kind and caring towards others, she doesn’t know how this boy will react to her or whether he likes her or not.

“Father, are you sure? This is the first time I have ever spoken with another person outside the castle. What if he doesn’t want to talk to me or even like me?” she asked her father nervously.

“You won’t know unless you try and I will be there with you when you talk to him,” her father told her. Alliah is still unsure, as she is nervous meeting with this boy for the first time. She thinks about what her mother would do in her position. Alliah knew that her mother would want her to try and talk to the boy even if he is a stranger and that she would never walk away from someone in need. Alliah sighs and looks at her father.

“All right, Father. I will try,” she told him. Her father smiled and together they left Alliah’s room with Hannah in her arms. They walked towards another door to another room, which Alliah knows is the spare room. They walked inside the room and Alliah sees a boy sitting on the bed with black shirt and trousers. She noticed that he has a cut on his right forearm and he looks sad and alone.

Alliah looked at her father, who gave her a gentle nod and she walked in slowly as not to startle the boy. She takes a deep breath and gently sits on the bed next to him. As she sits, the boy slowly turns his head towards her. Alliah saw that he has bright blue eyes, that is the colour of the bright blue sea and she was entranced by them. She looks down nervously as she tries to find the right words.

“Hello,” she said quietly. For a few moments, the boy didn’t say anything. Alliah was now unsure whether he liked or disliked her.

“Hi,” the boy replied back, just makes Alliah look back up at him. He had a small smile on his face and she couldn’t help, but smile at him.

“What’s your name?” Alliah asked.

“Osiris,” the boy gently told her. Alliah smiles as he said his name to her. “What’s your name?” he asks her politely.

“My name is Alliah,” she answers back. The two stare at each other, not sure what to say next.

“Do you know where your family and friends are?” Alliah asks nervously. As soon as she said that, Osiris looks down with a sad expression on his face.

“I don’t have any family or friends. All I could remember was I managed to get away from horrible men, as they were kidnapping children from my village and I have been alone since I was six. I don’t belong anywhere and people shunned me away.

All I want is someone to accept me,” he explains sadly Alliah couldn’t help, but feels sorry for Osiris. He is the same as her with no friends, but unlike her, he has nowhere to belong. She gently smiles at him and grabbed his hand.

“I’ll be your friend and you can stay here and live with us,” Alliah said. Osiris looks back up at her with a surprise look on his face.

“Are you sure?” he asks and Alliah nods her head.

“I don’t have friends myself as there aren’t any children in the castle for me to talk to. Besides, my father will definitely let you stay anyway, so what do you say?

Friends?” Alliah asks, hoping that Osiris will say yes.

“Friends,” Osiris said with a smile on his face and squeezed her hand. Alliah smiles as she looks at Osiris and she feels happy as she won’t feel alone in the castle as now she has a friend to talk to. Alliah’s father watches happily as the two start talking to each other as Alliah is tending to Osiris’ injured arm and he leaves the room quietly. Alliah’s father decides to look into the matter of what happened to the boy’s family and Alliah and Osiris spend many adventures together over the years.

STONES BENEATH MY BELLY

BY WILLIAM DEAN FORD I don't ask for much. Enough food so I don't starve, enough company to avoid heartbreak, enough air to breathe and enough water to keep me wet. I am compromise incarnate, with lungs that keep me from wholly belonging to the sea and a body that can never belong to the land. Somehow, despite my existence straddling the elements of air and water, I manage to keep myself alive. On this I am continually focused. Even as shoals of rainbow glittering fish part to grant me passage, I can never fully switch off and enjoy such reverence shown to me by smaller creatures.

I must always be wondering must I surface to breathe, always thinking, always on my guard. Such a state of alertness has its benefits. But it also has its pitfalls. Such as today, not noticing the water becoming fresher until it was so obviously not seawater that I was overwhelmed with unease and confusion. Singing out to the pod in alarm, I received no reply and began to panic. I was alone, my social pod of other whales that keeps me swimming straight was who knows where and I was struggling to keep my thoughts in order.

How long had I been heading up this river? Why did I not notice the ever enfolding currents of the sea become one single flow of water for me to fight against? The riverbanks had been closing in on me and they too had escaped my attention until I was registering everything at once, way too late. My belly touched the stony bed of the river, touched it again, touched it for longer…longer still…then completely still I was, in water too shallow for my mighty tail to be of any use to me anymore.

I sang out again to the pod in desperation. My mind knew they would not hear the plea for rescue but still my song erupted from me, in hope, in faith that my voice could somehow heard by those who might understand me and be able to help. But how could they help even if they heard, even if they understood? If they came to my aid would they not fall victim to the same perilous trap that had me in its grip?

What would I be to them but a wailing siren calling out to their kind hearts and leading them to their end?

Silence, then. I would sing out no more. Whatever I had to suffer I would suffer alone to save others from this terror. I would be the very picture of stoic patience.

I began to develop a martyr's conviction my predicament would not be the doom of well-meaning helpers drawn by their compassion into this vortex of isolation. This bleakly encroaching darkness at the edges of the sun beating down on my back was to be my burden.

The bearing of this weight would be my gift to those who would go on living their good lives. I was beyond reach. What good would it do anyone else to be stuck in the puny shallows of this river with me? Stupid, stupid me. I had brought this on myself. They would say that. And it hurt so much to imagine them saying such things. It seemed my just desserts that I burn in my lonely shame while fresh water flowed over my skin, keeping me wet enough to keep me breathing until hunger became starvation and I slipped into the eternal night.

Strange vibrations travelling upriver reached my tail and my heart began hammering at the speed of mortal dread. A boat. Another. Three of them, in no hurry, their dreadful engines stalking my prone form, humans ready to speed me on my way from this life. Of this I had no doubt and though trapped I was determined to fight to my last breath. I thrashed, I sang out threats, I reared up as best I could, half or more of me out of the water before gravity wrestled me back down leaving me exhausted.

Splash after splash registered as human forms entered the water, as ill equipped for my world as I was for theirs. I waited for the pain. It never came. Whatever they were doing to my tail, it wasn’t hurting and the longer they were doing it the less afraid I began to feel. Could it be, I wondered, as strange as the question sounds, could these humans be trying to save me? My heart sank below the riverbed again when the humans began to swim away. The echoes of their flipper feet shrank as they left me further behind. Moments later the whining vibrations of three boat engines assaulted my senses. Something tightened around my tail and pulled at it, and pulled harder. What was happening?

The stones beneath my belly shifted and rolled as the churning, howling boat

engines finally defied my bulk and pulled me achingly slowly back in the direction I had come from. Oh, the relief, the joy, the ecstasy of unexpected help from these strange beings. We could not communicate directly but somehow we had shared understanding between us of the need for one in peril to accept help when it came, from wherever it came. Not all human hands aspire to drive harpoons into my kind.

This is what the stories of childhood promised us but I had seen enough whale blood in the water to conclude such tales were imparted to us so that our childhoods contained more hope than fear. Never did I think I would live long enough to see real humans as kind as those conjured by the storytellers. Yet I have now lived long enough to wonder if those stories were true all along. Maybe there is more kindness than danger in this life despite how the world appears when we feel heavy hearted. I don’t ask for much, but I will ask for one more thing, that you believe there is always hope.

THE THUNDER STORM

BY BYRON SCOTT Well here I lay in a hospital bed, I worry about my leg and the rest of me for that matter. My leg was hot! So hot! The skin was ulcerated and oozing. I was a mess!

Last time I almost did not make it, is that galloping sound Death coming to take me with him?

I am in a ward at the back and very top of the hospital and in the distance there is a storm coming in.

Is that Death coming to collect me? Or is it the Dragons that comfort me inside my head going out to defy him?

The nurse comes in to check on my blood pressure seeing my condition she calls for help, another nurse comes in and takes charge “Ice packs NOW!” Meanwhile In the ward I was frantic to hide from Death but I was tethered to the bed by Drips,monitors and heaven only knows what else. Then I see a small Pair of Scissors and I cut what I could cut and tore out what I could not. Then I tried to hide “Death is coming He's looking for me.” I said or so I was told later.

“His temperature is 40°C plus and rising. NOW MOVE!” Just then a bolt of lightning hit a grove of trees I could see from my hospital window causing it to explode in a tower of flame,yet the torrential rain seemed to have put it out by the time the fire service got there. The next bolt hit the hospital and sheathed the hospital with a rippling skin of electrical energy, as the energy found its way to earth. With a final rumble of thunder the storm (or was it Death) moved on. Allowing the sky to lighten over Cardiff as it passed on. I thought I thought I caught one more glimpse of him riding back into the sky, he called back at me” Not your turn this time! But I walk deaths road towards you at a steady speed of 1 second per second and I will meet you at the end of your last second Then for a time you will rest. Then I will set you on your way to a new adventure. I am truly Janus the god of beginnings and ends” Then with a laugh like another laugh like a distant roar he vanished from view! His laugh fading away, into silence.

I WAS A BOY

BY CLIFFORD GOLDEN This story is of true events in the life of John.

John grew up in Grangetown in a large family of 6 sisters and one brother, throughout his childhood John did not get along with other children in the area where he lived. it was as if he really did not fit in often being left out of things that were going on. The only time John was happy was when he was playing football as it was the one thing, he was really good at, he would spend hours over the field often missing his tea.

As John grew older things did not go well for John, he was often attacked by other boys in and out of school, they were nothing but bullies who got pleasure out of what they were doing. This went on relentless and this had a profound effect on John as he became a very nervous child who stated wetting the bed and having nightmares every night. John never done well in school as he was bullied every day by the same group of boys, one day John was playing in the street with other kids and with his best friend, when a gang came along and made John and his friend Michael fight each other we had no choice but to do this.

John was a very nervous character who would often spend long periods on his own, as he felt safer by himself even though he became quite isolated at times. John could not cope with all the bullying he was subject to so he went to live with his sister and change schools. Some things just don't go away and the bullying was far worse at this new school. John often went fishing to escape the torment from his daily life which gave him some solace in his life. However, on one occasion this particular time a stranger came up and sat with John and befriended John. This led to John being sexually abused by that stranger at the age of eight which went on for few years.

John was starting to wonder if it was worth being around because he could not escape the hurtful things that were being done to him, at age 15 his whole world crumbled as he lost his dad, he was devastated by this, it took a long time to get over it.

At age 17 John decided to join the Army it had been something he had always

wanted to do. Army life was good there was loads to do places to see, in the early part of the army life, things were hard and John still had to deal with the bullies, nothing new there. John met his girlfriend while he was in the Forces and they went on to get married and had 4 lovely children, after a while John’s wife got fed up with him being away all the time which he then decided to leave the forces to settle down in Cardiff. But John found it very hard to settle in to civilian life, but eventually John was able to adapt.

John and his family settled down in St Mellons but things were very difficult as there were gangs of youths causing loads of trouble on the estate. One evening John decided to go in to town with his young boy, but while he was waiting at the bus stop with his son, he was viscously attacked by 5 men who knocked John unconscious, after this John did not leave his home for 2 years out of fear of it happening again. The trauma John suffered was devastating for him, where he tried on numerous occasions to take his own life.

Johns Mental Health was not good for many years, he made 2 further attempts on his life where he was made to be kept in hospital for his own safety. Johns Mental Health is still cause for concern as he is now living on his own and not coping very well.

John would dearly like to meet someone he can share is life with and also find a new place to live, John is a very caring person with lots of love give.

JOHN'S POEM I have finally finished my story at last It became for me a very difficult task Much like the whale that swam up the Taff Lost and alone a slow-moving craft We all face a struggle some time in our life Sometimes theses struggles may land us in strife As we keep going and try to do are best We all fall in line just like the rest So don't be despondent or even despair As there are some good people who really do care.

WHALE OUT OF WATER

BY HAYLEY GILBERT I took a dive into the dirty deep blue sea, so many creatures swam near me.

A big seahorse was taking care of his young seahorse, and humpback whale, a lovely song she sang.

A playful whale frolicking about. A wise old sea whale had his head poked out of the water. Then a massive whale came by the sea with the rest of his family, and then swam out of sight.

The whale leap in and out to the ocean and spray water everywhere. We watched from the boat. Then the whale whipped his tail then the boat set sail. Most whale are dolphins.

One of the whale came back to my boat and swam around it. It dived in and out of the water then out. Whale swam back out to sea and back and overcame his fear of dolphins and jumped through a hoop in the waterhoop in hoand jump through a hoop in the water.

NODDFA - REFUGE GAN SARA CONSTABLE Noddfa - Welsh word for a place of refuge or sanctuary It was a stormy September day when Bridget first arrived in Cardiff, on the train from Pembroke dock. Autumn brought scores of music students to the city to study.

She was the first in her family to gain a scholarship but soon felt confined in the smouldering congestion of the city. She listened to symphonies seep out from the college practice rooms by Bute Park, into the old canals full of fallen golden chestnut leaves floating down to Cardiff Bay, where all the sounds tumbled out.

Living by the river Taff, the seagulls woke Bridget up early. In the small hours of the morning, even the inner city took on a more romantic allure. Dim lights reflected smoky charcoal hues on the river and creaking train lines echoed across the back lanes to central station. She loved this kind of no mans land between dusk and dawn, where breath slowed and waking dreams unfolded.

More and more she found herself chasing this other worldly place. She had sensed it in the remnants of folklore and history, woven into the frayed edges of the city.

Felt it underfoot by the Castle leat where the kingfisher darted by in mid winter.

Heard it in the sweet sorrow of the wren as he sang beneath the weeping willow.

Caught glimpses of it in the last green spaces of wilderness left in the city, where meadowsweet, yarrow and the little celandine still clung.

When she tried to record it, there was static and strange interference on the playback, when she thought to write it down or sketch, the marks faded away like an old sepia print. It seemed just beyond reach. Finding this fleeting place in between began to consume all her waking hours and nights. She wandered untethered with no way marks or maps, only intuition her guide. From time to time she could make out a faint call of ‘noddfa, noddfa’ ‘refuge, refuge’ but it was muffled by the dense fog of thought.

A wood pigeon cooing on the red brick terraced chimney shook her out of her trance. The alarm on her desk rung out, time to get going. She walked along the

river path to the music college, past where the old Brains Brewery chimney jutted out above the rubble of yesterday’s city. Past the gnarled pear and apple trees on the Taff embankment, along the muddy trail and under the Castle Street bridge to emerge in Bute park.

Here on the banks of the River Taff, where the heron waits and the song thrush sings. Here beneath the hawthorn and the alder, where the river bends and turns, here she thought was a place of refuge, a place to belong.