My dad is a Caseworker for children, I'm not allowed to read the files he brings home. I read them anyway.

When I was little, my dad would often bring home these green folders filled with papers that he would read over and over again. My dad works as a sort of Caseworker for children. Essentially he's a Caseworker, only he's a manager so he has to make sure his own cases go well, and that other's cases run smoothly. My dad doesn't work with adults, he works primarily with children. I don't think it makes a difference, but my dad's job is very similar to that of a foster care worker. Most of the time our dad is out on meetings, constantly having to take little kids to these places to see other people. My dad is sort of a bridge between the kids and the schools, social workers, foster carers, anything like that. He's incredibly busy.<br><br>Whenever he's away, the information for his cases is kept in that big bag of his, it's a PVC bag with a lock on it. He never leaves it at home, but he always brings it home at the end of the day. Usually these green folders are in the bag, but sometimes he'll take them out and read them over. Sometimes he'll stay up for hours reading them, and my mum will say things like "Why don't you just go to bed, you can read them in the morning." But he's always like "No, I need to read this." My dad will stay up to the early hours of the morning reading these folders and it's become normal to me. Sometimes I'll wake up in the middle of the night and he'll be sat in the kitchen, reading those files. They're that important.<br><br>I should mention that I'm 19 years old, I'm a university student in my third year and I'm currently staying with my parents while my flat is being renovated. It's been a pretty smooth ride, I spend most of my time in my room reading and watching TV, and I don't really leave the house very often. <br><br>My dad has talked about his cases to me before, but not often. I'd say he talks about it more than most dads talk about their jobs, but not all that often. Nobody in my family likes to talk about what's in those files, they're sort of a secret, I think. The one thing I do know, is that colour coordinated files are used based on the severity of the case. It's pretty basic, and I'm sure other agencies use the same method as well. <br><br>* Green files are for cases that aren't severe.<br>* Yellow is for cases that are severe.<br>* Orange is for cases that are very severe.<br>* Red is for cases that are extremely severe.<br><br>I'm not entirely sure what the difference is between a green case and a yellow case, but what I do know is that yellow cases are sometimes sent to court. Up until recently I'd never seen an orange or red case. That was until I read one of the files.<br><br>The other day, my dad was out on a meeting, and he left the green bag on his office. The office is a big pretty room that my parents use to work in when they're at home, it's not often that my parents spend a day at home working, but sometimes it happens. Anyway, I was wandering around the house when I looked into the office and noticed the big green bag sitting on my dad's desk. I don't know what made me think of that day, but I remembered my dad saying something about an extremely severe case that he had to take care of. He'd said it was filed under a red folder, the first he'd ever seen.<br><br>At that moment I had the urge to open the bag and look for that red folder. I had never done it before, and I don't know what drove me to do it, but I wanted to know what was in that folder. I felt like I had been waiting for years to see what was in it. <br><br>I walked over to the bag and opened it, it was unlocked, despite my dad hating the idea of it being unlocked. It was full of green and yellow folders, there were maybe 30 or so of them? I looked over and saw there was a little section on the side of the bag, a hidden pocket. It was Zip-locked shut but I could see through it, and I saw an orange and red folder. I unzipped the pocket, and I pulled out the files. Two files, one red, one orange, and a white envelope with a letter and photographs. It was all I could do not to shake as I walked away with the files, blowing off the feeling of guilt. I closed the door and I walked back to my room, with the files in my hand. <br><br>I read through the files. I read through the orange one first, and the red one second. I don't know why I saved the red one for last, but I felt like it was logically the most severe case. <br><br>I'm going to go ahead and talk about what I saw in the files, I'm sorry if you believe that I crossed a line, but I need to talk about what I saw.<br><br>The orange file belonged to a young boy, he was 10 years old, he had no siblings and his parents were divorced. His father had committed suicide, and his mother was a drug addict, she was unable to care for her son properly, and she beat him frequently. My dad had arranged for this boy to be fostered by a different family. It was his birthday the other day, so I looked up the boy, and I found his social media account. He's doing pretty well, he seems happy enough. <br><br>The red file was different. I read through it, and I felt like I had punched in the gut. The red file belonged to a young girl, only a few years older than me. My dad had been assigned to this case recently but it was an old case. I read through it and I felt so horror-struck I couldn't stop shaking. I'm not going to lie, I broke down and cried. I felt sick, and I couldn't stop my hands from shaking. I had to read it twice to really grasp what was happening. <br><br>The girl's mother had locked her in her room as a toddler, she couldn't leave the room until she was 7 years old. Apparently this changed her, and she began to act like an animal. She would scratch and bite, and she couldn't speak. Her mother was a drug addict and she didn't care for her daughter, she would leave her to starve for days at a time, and she would beat her frequently, and damage her body. From what I read it appeared she had no teeth, she was incredibly thin, she had almost no hair, and she had burns all over her body. She was unable to walk, she was unable to communicate, and she was unable to function at all. I saw the pictures in the envelope and it made my stomach flip. <br><br>The girl was placed in a foster home, she was given medical and physio treatment, but she was unable to ever recover. These days she is an adult, and she lives in a special care home for disabled people, apparently these sorts of places are funded by the government. I read that she has been placed on life support, and she has been unable to communicate at all her entire life. She'll never be able to function on her own, she'll be locked away for the rest of her life, unable to talk, walk, or have any sort of life. <br><br>I read the files, and I put them back. It was the strangest feeling, like I was stealing something I wasn't supposed to see. I can't tell my dad about it, and I don't think he'd care if I did. He's never forbidden me from reading the files, but it's like a silent understanding that you don't read them. I don't plan on telling him what I did. <br><br>The files really made me think, about my life in comparison. So many children, young kids, living with the worst conditions, treated like animals and they'll never really live a life. I feel so bad for them, I feel like I'm so lucky, I've always had food, a home, and my parents are kind to me. It's insane to me that I complain about tiny things, when these little kids are living like this. Most of them I bet don't even know any different, and if they do, they'll never experience anything else. It's sickening to me that there are parents out there like that. <br><br>I just wanted to share what I saw. I don't know why, but I wanted to tell someone. I feel a little better now, but I know it's going to stick with me forever.