Fix me

Chapter 1

'Fine, I'll... go and help Mam. I'll be right in the next room, so shout us if--'

'I'll be fine, Gary.'

I hear a door close and a light goes out. Behind my eyes I can see only flickering light, probably from the fireplace. 'Kim? Open your eyes, it's just us now, you're ok.' She says soothingly. She wraps a blanket around me tightly. I didn't realise how cold I was. Somewhere in my numb brain I vow never to touch heroin again. One of the woman's hands is holding mine, her warm fingers warming my own, and her other is resting gently against my forehead again.

I slowly open my eyes. But I don't believe what they're seeing when I do. I didn't know heroin could make you hallucinate.

'I must've died and gone to heaven.' I mutter drunkenly, 'cos there is no way Cheryl Cole is in front of me right now.'

She smiles a little. 'You look alive to me pet.'

'I'm hallucinating.'

'No, you're not. Sorry.'

I stare at her for a long time. Long enough for her to break eye contact, looking uncomfortable. 'Are you ok?'

'Not really.'

'It's ok. Me mam's making you a drink, and--'

'I'm gonna be sick.' I announce, trying to sit up, but my arms aren't really working. Cheryl Cole dives across the room and grabs what looks like an empty fruit bowl, lunging back towards me with it just in time.

She leaves the room briefly with the bowl, coming back with a mug in her hand. 'Drink this, you'll feel better.' She says. But I start to sit up slowly, shaking my head.

'No, it's ok... I'm sorry about... I'll go, thanks for... you shouldn't have... I didn't mean to... err...'

I use the sofa as support, leaning on it as I make my way to the door.

'You're in no fit state to go anywhere.' Cheryl says. 'Please sit back down, your safe here.'

'I'll be ok... I'm fine on my own...' I murmur. But I don't even reach the door. I stagger into the wall, failing to walk without the aid of something to hold onto, and, knowing I'm about to black out, I just let it happen, falling to the floor as Cheryl Cole shouts for her mam.

Chapter One

My earliest memory is not a happy one.

I think I was about four years old, and my brother would have been eight. We had had a fight and he had been told off for it. He got sent up to my room to apologise, then left with me to play.

He sat on the end of my bed, watching me, and he said, 'I hate you. I loved my life before you came along, mummy and daddy used to love me the best before you came along. I wish it was still just me and them.'

Then he got up and left me alone.

I know he didn't mean it, he was just a child. But I have never, ever forgot it. Isn't it strange how we can remember bad things so quickly and so easily, but good memories, we sometimes struggle to remember all the details?

I have no idea where I am when I wake up. The harsh January sunlight blazing through a gap in the curtains reveals a small room, painted purple with posters on the wall and clothes all over the floor. I sit up slowly and pain instantly shoots through my side and my leg, reminding me of everything. The drugs. That guy. The fight. Cheryl Actual Cole taking me into her house... no... that part must have been a dream.

But there she is.

She is next to the bed I'm in, curled up in a pink beanbag chair, sleeping. As if she knows I am awake and watching her, she stirs, stretching out like a cat and opening her eyes, looking straight at me. She sits up quickly. 'Don't panic.' She says, even though I haven't done anything. 'When you passed out last night I brought you up to me old room to sleep it off. And your bags right there.' She adds, pointing to the foot of the bed where it's between my legs.