I woke around two in the morning, worrying about Sunny. I knew he’d still be playing on his box, now in his bedroom, so I crept upstairs to tell him to sleep. Predictably he started to shout and swear, and I retreated. I am sad and hurt. He is immersed in his virtual life and lives during the night. He sleeps in the day. He does finally start a cherry-picking job on Wednesday which he must be up for by 7.00am. The only reason he is going for this job is because he needs the money to pay for cannabis (and other drugs too I'm guessing), the other part of his fantasy life. He doesn’t engage with real life, has no interests other than his games and drugs, doesn’t want to travel, let alone learn how to drive. He is narrow and not interested in growing. He takes no exercise and is thin, white and sleepy. Exhausted by doing nothing.
Around mid-day I hear the dreaded click of Ma’s walking sticks demanding my attention. She looks like death and tells me that she couldn’t breath in the night, and that she fell out of bed.