No Choice But Murder

8

I woke up to Farah sleeping peacefully on my right. She was snoring softly, as if asleep in her own room, adorned with all her stuff and no broken chairs. I turned to my left, to the sofas where James' and Carter were still asleep. The room looked the same as it had when we had first come in.

I had no idea what time it was. there were no windows, just lights, so it would look the same if it were morning or night. I shuddered, looking around for a clock. There was a little digital clock, perched on the mound of rubbish on the coffee table. I squinted to try and focus my eyes on the red blur of numbers. 6:45?!

I turned to Farah and shook her. 'Hey, Farah, hey, wake up!'

She murmured and turned around. I shook her brutally.

'I'm awake! I'm awake!'

'It's 6:45! We all need to wash and dress by half 7!'

Farah sat up and yawned. She rubbed her eyes and blinked rapidly at me. 'Ok?'

'Oh, for gods sa- 'I shoved the linty duvet off the both of us and trundled to the armchair that contained the pile of clothes. I grabbed a mauve maxi dress and pastel yellow tracksuit bottoms that reached just below my ankles. I glanced up to look at Carter and James' passed out bodies on the sofas. Carter's head twitched.

'Hey, Farah?'

'I thought we all had to wash and dress by half 7?!'

I rolled my eyes. 'I'm heading to the bathroom right now. Wake up Carter and James and tell them everything.'

'Yes, mum. You go and wash now.'

I raised my eyebrows as I started to walk to the bathroom, clutching an armful of old lady wear. God, she's so patronising.