Chapter 1

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I'm woken up by a sharp, deafening buzz of my alarm. As I groan and lean over to the source of the continuous noise, the bold red digits read;
6:58am
'Ugmm' groaning I start to push myself out, I'm not a morning person, I never have been. But I can push myself out of bed when I need to, which seems to be too often. As I leave the warm sheets, acknowledging the numbness in my hands and feet I curl my toes up and blow warm air on my hands, 'oh god the bill' I think to myself, we were always late with the bills and that means no goddamn heat or hot water. Deciding to warm my self up, I lean over and pick up the open pack of cigarettes that sit on my bedside table, pick one out, light it and lie back on my bed again.
Puffing away, I listen to the daily commotion starting in the house. The house seemed so quiet until Fiona shouted from downstairs her morning 'KIDS WAKE UP, SCHOOOOL' then everyone started to move.
I have a little bit of time until I'm last going into the bathroom, so I put the cigarette in between my lips and stand up. Stumbling over to the chest of draws I rummage through Fiona's sweater draw to find myself something thick to warm me up. I put on her navy hoodie that's covered in moth holes. Shoving some thick socks on, I walk out the room I share with Fiona and make my way down the corridor to the bathroom.
At the opposite end of the corridor my eyes meet with my brother Lips, he's just about to come out of his room that he shares with my other two brothers. We both stop in our tracks and stare at each other, knowing exactly what's about to happen and simultaneously dash for the bathroom door, running and sliding on the wooden floor, Lip manages to make it first and I'm greeted with a firm door shut in my face,
'fuck!' mutters under my breath and I bang on the door, my loss is making me wait longer for me to wash yesterday off my face.
Lip doesn't mind cold showers and the heating  bills late so he'll be a long time. I sigh and walk over to the boys bedroom, kicking the stray clothes off my path. I see Ian's empty bed, he must be downstairs already with Liam and Debbie.
I can see Carl refusing the day ahead with his pillow over his face.
'You need to get up Carl, we have school' I mutter whilst clearing the dirty clothes off the floor.
'No I don't' he sleepily groans from under the pillow, his voice adenoidal,
I put down the clothes in a pile and pull the covers off his small body.
'Hey!' He says more enthusiastic, he angrily removes the pillow of his face and looks at me, I give him a stern look.
'Fine' he moans, getting up he sticks his tongue out at me with his eyes barely open and runs off downstairs.
I walk out the room and listen to the shower running, Lips still in there so I follow Carl downstairs. Putting out my cigarette by shoving it down on the ash tray in the boys room.
As I get closer to the kitchen, the frantic noise gets louder, Fiona's stressing about the bills whilst trying to make breakfast and todays lunches. Debbies sitting at the table with Liam and Ian's just come in through the back door from his morning run. I walk over to the table and I get a gush of cold air from the draft in the door and windows. Winter in Chicago is the worst. I can tell it's freezing outside because Ian's dressed head to toe in layer after layer. He takes off his hat and thick coat and sits down. I start to pour the orange juice in everyone's glass, Debbie starts to transfer the bowls of cereal that Fiona made from the kitchen counter to the table, she hands them to Ian and he pours the milk in the bowls,
'Milks running out, when you going to the store?' Ian asks Fiona,
she sighs ' Not until next week' she's busy making lunches,
'Here hand it' she reaches out for the milk and Ian hands it to her, she fills it up with water and shakes the carton slightly,

 I start to pour the orange juice in everyone's glass, Debbie starts to transfer the bowls of cereal that Fiona made from the kitchen counter to the table, she hands them to Ian and he pours the milk in the bowls,'Milks running out, when you going...

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