Lumbering back to my mums car in the pitch black I struggle to cling onto the one dozen pizza boxes.

 The heat coming from the mouth-watering pizza distracts me from the vibrating phone that’s in my pocket. I reach down with one hand to grab my phone. But then everything stops and fear strikes into my heart  I feel one of the pizza boxes slowly slipping out of my greasy hands.

“NOOO! Not the pizza!” (SPLAT!) 

The boxes are piling on top of each other, stringy cheese spreading all around the filthy concrete. It looks like a warzone down there.