Yesterday morning, my son (18) was assaulted by two kids on the estate that we live on (16 and 17) on his way home from work – he works night shifts, cycles 7 miles there and 7 miles back... I mention this because these... individuals (or their friends... I'm not sure) literally ripped the wheels off his bike and stamped on the frame enough that it broke. I literally woke up to the sound of carnage going on outside (about 0745) and called my son to say “don't come home, something has kicked off, I don't want you walking into the midst of it”. Obviously, it went to voicemail (he'd finished early). The fight went from the back of the house to the front – so I hauled myself (I am disabled and pretty much bed bound) to the front of the house, because I just had an 'off' feeling, you know? Looking out of the upstairs front bedroom window, I realised that the fight was now on my drive – and there was an angry cohort of (and I am seriously so grateful for each of them) middle aged women in their pyjamas for the most part, trying to manhandle my son in through the front door whilst he was pacing like a lion in one of those circus cages that existed up until the '90s. The fight had disturbed them enough that they'd looked out of windows, realised it was my son, knew that I couldn't get to him and gone running...
One of them was punched by the 16 year old for literally getting between my son and his assailants. I was ordered by the women on my drive to call triple 9 (which I would have done regardless of whether it were my son being assaulted or one of theirs) and was told by the operator that they'd had “a spate of calls regarding the incident”. The police turned up within 2 minutes on blue lights... but by this point, the two little... boys who'd attacked my son had vanished. I go down (with these lovely women in their pyjamas worrying about me rushing in case I hurt myself), and my son's bike is a right off, he is hopped up on adrenaline and being a typical teenage boy when it comes to the police (because he thinks he can handle this by himself), talking to one policeman whilst these angry mothers in pyjamas are talking to the other. My son had blood all over his cheek from where a former surgical scar on his lip (to remove a tumour when he was 14) had exploded on the inside, and has scratches all down his neck/throat from where they'd tried to strangle him with his bag, and according to the women had been hit several times by these boys with the large nitrous oxide gas canisters that shops are selling for kids to get high off of. It took three of us to encourage my son to give a statement to the police. Even though they said they didn't necessarily need it, because of witness statements.
My son has been targeted by these boys for 2 years now, ever since they broke apart our back fence when I was too slow to return their football that they'd kicked so hard it hit my dog – and hurt her (priorities, right?). The police were called, did what little they could. Months later, one of them pulled a knife on my son – and we had an armed response unit on blue lights. Six months after that... suddenly one of their younger sisters (14) is messaging my newly 18 year old son in an effort to engage with him, shall we say? Which he not only shut down, but told me about. These boys screaming war cries this morning? My son is a nonce who talks to 14 year old girls...
My son is asexual/gay (he just doesn't broadcast this, for, perhaps, obvious reasons).
But as the police pointed out – who saw the screenshots of this girl's efforts that he took, just in case, talking to someone isn't illegal. There was nothing sexual about it. It was, in all probability, a set up to try to get him arrested – because I stood up against their bullying tactics two fucking years ago. These boys watched my son cycle off to work at 10pm last night, went to a party, got off their faces/out of their tinies, and by 2am were booting at my front door and causing chaos outside of the shop right behind our home. I listened to 3 fights spark off before the one that woke me just before 8 (and I'd only been asleep for maybe an hour or so at the time because of the hassle they were creating). They were out of it on nitrous oxide/alcohol, granted, but their booting the front door was – I'm 99% convinced – designed to intimidate me enough that I'd call my son and have him come home so that they could waylay him under the cover of darkness. Which I didn't do, because I've sort of gotten used to it over the past few months. Even my dog knows it's them so doesn't react, if that makes sense?
My son ended up in A+E, with a potential head injury/concussion, a severely strained thumb (I'm assuming where he tried to hang onto his bike), and an obliterated upper inner lip where the scar tissue exploded (which can't be stitched because he is severely allergic to anaesthesia). He also has a bruised cheekbone/eye orbit, and has a myriad of bruising coming up over his back and shoulders from being hit by these metal gas canisters (the size of tennis ball holders, but made out of metal rather than plastic). His bike is totally beyond repair.
AIBU to point out to the police (who did a fantastic job, faced with a load of angry pyjama wearing middle aged women...) that the two boys were with it enough to get themselves off my drive when I told them it was private property – so knew exactly what they were doing – and to demand that they press various charges against them, even though my son is an adult (and has given a statement – because he's listened to all of us saying what happens the next time, when the mothers in our road can't get to him in time because one of them's knifed him...). False allegations (which can demonstrably be proven), intimidation of someone classed as a vulnerable individual (me), assault and criminal damage (which are, coupled by the slander – because when challenged, they were screaming this alleged crime at the tops of their voices: “that cunt's son is a fucking paedo...”, for example, the ones I'm actually more concerned with), verbal assault, emotional abuse... I'm very worried that my son might lose his job because of his anxiety about leaving me here alone overnight 5 nights a week. Which is ridiculous, but given my disabilities, I can and do understand.
If he'd actually engaged in anything sexual with an underage girl – I would call the police myself. But, for obvious reasons, he hasn't. These boys tried to set him up, it failed, they bided their time, lay in wait for him... and literally two-to-one assaulted him.
Right outside of his home. The one place where he's meant to feel safest.
I am just so very grateful for the women who threw themselves out of their homes this morning, first thing, still in pyjamas because they knew it was my son and I wouldn't have been able to get to him fast enough. These mothers were literally between my son and these other boys, told the police exactly who they were and where they lived, gave statements, backed my (adrenaline raging) son up.
Awful thing is that the fight woke the family a few doors up, who discovered that their husband/father had passed away – and I feel so fucking guilty that they had to deal with a death whilst listening to drunk/high local thugs giving it what/for at the end of the road we all live in. In a naice middle-class area, too, which is...
Violence amongst teenage boys is happening regardless of class or social strata. But backed off prior to the police showing (very quickly, there were a lot of 999 calls made apparently) when faced with several pissed off middle-aged mothers in pyjamas.
Maybe we can change the world...?
Am I wrong to hope...?