(no subject)
Every cupboard i open has FiL (Father in Law) stuff in it. Or BiL (Brother in Law) stuff.
Every room has the same old fashioned decor and 45 year old, threadbare carpets.
Everytime I walk past the bottom of the stairs, I see FiL sat there, talking gibberish. Paramedics all around him. Me sat behind him, begging for everything to be alright. Monitors, drips......people. So. Many. People.
I cant be here, in this house, anymore.
I just cant.