It was Christmas morning; my alarm clock went off. "Well wish it could be Christmas every day," came a song from the late eighties. I turned it off, sat up in bed and lit up a cigarette.
It was 3.30am, and still dark outside. Trying to be quiet, I slowly got out of bed and with my eyes still closed, went into the bathroom and turned the taps on the bath. I proceeded to the kitchen; where I filled the kettle with water and switched it on to boil.
I lived in a ground floor maisonette with my boyfriend and an old friend from school. I remember the way everything always seamed louder in the…
