The penny dropped today. You get told you'll get 14 days notice, but you don't. That would give 10 working days to talk to the council.
Day 1 was Tuesday. This is when the letter was sent. No phone call, no warning.
I have but five days to talk to the council over the future of my son.
They are going to see us as an 'emergency'. This despite the fact that I have been writing to them since before January, when I chose to blog it all for you. This despite the fact that I have written to them a great deal since September when I got the first notice. So too the Prime Minister, so too my MP, so too Local Authority leaders. Oh you know, it's all here.
The housing association, a registered charity, is evicting us Christmas week and the Council will say we're an 'emergency'. I sent them an email yesterday: "Have I been lied to? You told me August."
Politicians wax lyrical about the Protection of Children. This is Cruelty to Children.
My son and I are mere pawns in their blame games of greed.
I am freezing despite wearing a multitude of layers. I don't know if it's because the heating's on the blink, or whether it's that old foe, Fear.
I can't spill my fear on here. I mustn't. I have to focus.
My son needs me to focus.
My son my Sun my Son
Stigmum I love you but I don't think even you can help me now. Stay with me though; tomorrow is my third visit to the Homeless Person's Unit since my son was born. It's Heaven for some people; it's Hell on Earth for me.
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2 comments:
We were housed in an emergency once. I hope this happens to you. Your situation is absolutely dreadful.
I met a mum in the homeless person's unit yesterday who has been bounced for seven years and the journey is still not over for her or her three children. Hostels are no longer 'emergency'. Hostels are 'temporary' amd 'suitable' for families with a composition such as mine and hers. The whole thing makes me sick. Rosie, thank you for understanding x
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