5:00am. Again. Loud banging on the wall pulls me out of my sleep paradise. Next comes yelling. It's a normal routine. A routine I live with, after all this is the only place I've got to call home. It's a simple flat really, damp curls the wallpaper, a small fridge and stove sit in the corner. My ragged bed lies in the centre of this humble abode with a small mattress next to it, a tiny shower and toilet in the next room. 6:30am. Has it really been that long? Work starts in an hour. Even if I am 15 and it is a Saturday.
