PEOPLE USED TO LAUGH AT ME BUT NOT ANY MORE
Pounding up the stairs, I crept into my room and closed my door quietly, checking for any sounds of my parents on the landing. Slowly zipping open my school bag and pulling out a multipack of crisps and two chocolate bars, I pulled up my mattress and stuffed them underneath, ready to gorge on later.
It was April 2008 and aged 15, that was my after-school routine – spending my pocket money on treats from the local shop or supermarket then hiding them in my bedroom before eating everything I’d bought after dinner.
Mum had no idea about my nightly picnics, but she must have suspected
