My dad died when I was 9. Cancer. I remember the day he was diagnosed and the last time I saw him. I cried myself to sleep each night until the age of 14. My mum tried to comit suicide after. She would go on suicide runs with my sister to Beachy head, a local suicide spot in england. She never let me go with her, so I would wait at home. She always came back, but I was broken. I once caught her swallowing pills. She was hysterical. Scary. My older sister’s boyfriend moved in. He was like James dean. He threw his mother down the stairs and broke her arm. He punched my mother and sister in the face. I attacked him with a cricket bat. His friends took drugs. I had my first blow back. I spun. My mum slept with him. And his friends. She was lonely.