I sit on my bed writing in my journal. Mum calls my name. “Kelly, can you come set the table for tea?” She says. I close my journal and put it on the end of my bed. I leave the room and close the door. “Yum,” I say as I smell the aroma, “roast chicken, my favourite.” My brother is already sitting at the table with his meal. “Hurry up with the cutlery Kel’s,” he says. “Why don’t you?” I say back at him.