The End

I was 22 and it was the first time I had ever lived by myself. Beforehand I had moved in with my boyfriend and his parents and then we had bought our own house. Life being what it was meant that we split up, he got the house and I moved back in with my mum. But then I got this flat, a huge 2 bedroom flat in a slightly dodgy area of town. I kept myself to myself and I was working 12 hour nights so I didn’t have to mingle with the neighbours anyway. The flat contained very little, my bedroom had my bed, the living room had a sofa bed, telly and a phone, the kitchen was pretty much all second hand. I didn’t even have carpet, just those old brown council tiles and they were slowly rotting away. But I loved this flat, it was mine.

I came back from work one morning (a Tuesday I think it was) at 6am, tried to unwind for a bit and went to bed at about 8am. Sleep was so nice after working nights, so deep, so relaxing. I dreamt that the phone was ringing….and ringing and ringing. Then the ring finally worked it’s way into my consciousness, it was real.

I got out of bed, but my brain was still on the pillow, quickly looked at the time, 9.30am. Answered the phone, it was my sister, crying. She also worked nights so she understood that messages didn’t filter through quite so easily in the morning. It took her a good five times telling me before I realised that my dad was dead. Shit.

She told me to go back to sleep, yeah right! How the hell am I meant to do that? I was AWAKE now. I had a bath, got dressed and had something to eat. Put on my helmet and rode round to my mum’s house. She was quiet as was my sister, none of us cried. Turned out my dad’s girlfriend found him in his bed-sit first thing in the morning. He was in bed, but not sleeping. The telly was on, he was sat up with a can of beer in one hand and a roll up in the other.

The rest of the day was a bit of a blur until it was time for me to go back to work. My boyfriend picked me up and I told him what had happened and made him promise not to tell anyone. But it wasn’t long before they all found out though. The autopsy revealed paracetamol in his blood stream, so there was an inquest into his death. We were all questioned about him and all asked if he ever threatened to commit suicide, which he had. Because he had an inquest it had to go into the papers, not only the local one but the national ones too. The verdict? Death By Misadventure.

He just couldn’t be out of the limelight for one second could he?