"My mother is a murder, psychotic one. She's locked far away in prison in and institutionalised area." I explain. "Well, my family is better. Well dead." He says.

"Aw David." I say, turning round to see him. "I mean my fathers death killed me, my mothers not so much." He spoke, I stroke his face and he closed his eyes. "I couldn't write anything."

"How not?" I asked, sitting up. "The paps of course, I hid in the loft as it had no windows. All I did was wait." He said, I sit my head in hands.

"This is my fault, isn't it?" I asked, he shook his head. "I mean if I didn't show up and waited a day then it would be okay." I sigh, he stroked my back. "Think of all the good things we did though." He said, I nodded. "Well I can hardly remember them..." I say in exhaustion.

"Well I explain the best part." He said, I nodded. As he told me every detail I smiled.