How to Kill Your Family

by Bella Mackie

I’m not somebody who gets depressed. I sometimes feel a rising panic in my throat and a need to escape, but I’d never understood people who get so sad that they retreat from life.

He ended the letter with a clichéd passage about how he didn’t expect me to forgive him (why do people say this when just the mere fact that they’ve got in touch with you to say it means they clearly expect forgiveness?),

It was a facsimile of a family, but it was what I had.

These girls didn’t just spend obscene amounts of money on clothes, anyone rich can do that. Walk down Bond Street and laugh at the idiots who think shearling-lined Gucci loafers and fur-trimmed puffer jackets are the epitome of style and you’ll see what I mean.

Ah, mental health. The get-out clause for all bad behaviour.

All the men in my book are complete bastards and you are the total opposite. You told me I was a writer long before I ever called myself one. I am so very lucky to have you by my side.