It makes me profoundly sad. But it makes me vengeful too. That we survived. They would not stop. But we survived. They needed to be somebody. But we survived. I feel scared to reveal this side of me. Crying.

Yesterday was a good day. I walked into town. I bought soil. I brought it back in my shopping trolley. When I was cleaning the window before, I felt for the first time I lived in my own life. I crawled and scrapped and scratched my way to my own life. It has taken me years. First without foundations. I wanted it to be beautiful. I wanted it to be curated in a certain way.

When we sold weed to buy our first home, I bought a huge Xmas tree with red baubles. It was as high as the ceiling. And they were huge. Some were huge. Some were slightly bigger than the other. I staggered them from the bottom. I’m learning about style. I stole 4 style books from the library. That might have been when we lived in Old Hall Lane. My next attempt to build a home for myself.

Leaving Cowesby St. I am 14 at the time. My suitcase is in my hand. I’m dragging it, it is as big as me. It’s because of a row with my mum’s daughter. My mum has been back to Ireland to hurt my dad. She has brought me back a pink jumper with a collar that is not straight and no matter how I try to straighten it you can’t. It has been sewn on wrong.

Yesterday the world felt sewn on right. He is gone. Tom. Who led me to see things in a different light. Who, when the judge is telling me off. No. it’s the prosecutor. ‘So, you told her to fuck off?’ ‘Yes, I told her to fuck off.’ And Tom shouts from the gallery, ‘How the fuck are you interrogating her? She’s the one that murdered him.’ I suppose I’m suffering from PTSD. Trying to make myself a home. Curate a home.

I bought a tall tree. Disproportionate. And a blue smooth navy carpet. You couldn’t walk on it for white shoe marks.  And Paul and Andy said the kitchen brown and green carpet tiles looked warmer. I keep missing out something about warmth. Warmth is missing, Now the angel is missing. But warmth is here.

I think I left the fairy in the flat. In Tom’s flat. While we were emptying Tom’s flat. After he died. To sell it back to One Manchester. I think Rachel put her in the Xmas sack. Along with the new angel and the Xmas stocking. Her Xmas stocking.

The Xmas stocking was before the weed selling. When we were simpler. When we believed in Maharaja. It wasn’t about believing. Tom was even poisonous abut that. People getting knowledge. There was a hierarchy to him of people getting knowledge.

I let Tom overtake my mind. Like Rachel let Michael overtake her mind. I’m not sure if you let them. Because they have completely fooled us into thinking they know something we don’t know. We need a knight in shining armour. In our world he has to be able to fight. To be unafraid of hand-to-hand combat. This is how he gets a name for himself. Then that translates into philosophy. Apes do the same. They do not pick the alpha male because he is only brute force. He has a heart. He can make meaningful decisions. Maybe if we lived in a savanna that would make sense. In a tribe. But surrounding our tribe are other tribes with alpha males. This makes our alpha male unhappy. Unstable. More needing to control his, hold onto his, he must have one disciple. One person who believes in him. He is always in the desert now the hand-to-hand combat has stopped.

John sitting astride Mandy’s knee is antagonistic to Tom. John is an alpha male. A rogue alpha male. A jester. Who defies the uptight with hand-to-hand up his sleeve. They are never sure who will win the grapple. So, they never engage so they don’t get hurt. He is flaunting in my chair that he can carouse Mandy. Flirt with Mandy in such an outrageous way. A way Tom can never attain. He has tricks Tom does not know.

And with all this, moving around in all of this, is my daughter, Rachel. She puts her favourite toy Mr Dog against the fire I have bought to make us a happy family. His ear is burnt. I go mad. He is here. In Tom’s box downstairs. But the fairy is lost. Rachel must have put her in the sack. And I am in a hurry to get back to star in my Factory International show and I see the sack but don’t take the minute to open the sack. I take the sack downstairs into Toms’s sister’s car and we drive it to the dump.