Peter squinted at the mirror "Looks ugly mate." "What the graze?" "No your arse" "Thanks pal." "I can fix you up I’ll go and get the tool box." ...Well hurry up" Peter was back with the first aid kit and told me to turn around I did so and was greeted with excruciating pain. "What the fuck did you do?" "It’s cool, just methylated spirits" "Shit man." It’ll be fine a couple of minutes no problem. The graze was just under the line of my swimmers but still stung like a bitch. Stuff it that’s. I remember catching my breath as I realized what I was hearing. My mom was moaning, breathless. I knew what I was hearing but couldn't believe it. I reached the bottom of the steps and turned down the hallway to the kitchen. I was barefooted and wearing just a long tee shirt, so I'm sure I made hardly a sound as I traipsed into the kitchen. My eyes immediately found the door to the basement. The light was on downstairs and the door was slightly ajar. I crept past the little dining room. More

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