Is it wrong to scared of being home alone at eleven o’clock in the morning when it’s as dark as midnight, it’s tipping it down with rain, there are big crashes of thunder and the blinding flashes of lightning?
I mean, I’m nineteen now. Perhaps not grown-up, but technically I am an adult. I should be able to cope.
It’s fine, I tell myself. That crash isn’t some huge giant lumbering towards our house.
That dripping isn’t the blood of its victims.
And that screaming isn’t from the school children down the road (or perhaps it is, after all they’re only five – they’re allowed to be frightened)
Keep calm, switch on the TV and pretend your not here.
That’s it, deep breaths.
Actually, no, I can’t do this. Mummy – come home!