The mist was thick and claggy in the air. My breaths shortened as I walked towards the thicker mist. I tried to call dad, but the creamy coloured smoke wrapped around my throat, I couldn't. Nothing made sense to me, that's when I realised that I was still lying on the kitchen floor, drunk as I could a be. I suddenly felt the urge to be sick, so I ran up to the bathroom, perked my head over a mental bin, and reached. That wasn't my
house, and the windows were covered in a thick, white fog. I was delearious.
