By Lisa BreenAustralian Financial Review article Posted March 18, 2018 10:07:23It was a stormy night.
My house was just a block away, and I had just taken my last breath in the comfort of my home.
I was lying on the bed, my eyes shut, and a lump started to form on my forehead.
I’d had enough.
For the past two years, I had lived in my parents’ house in central Sydney.
There had been a storm, the weather was still a little chilly, and the house was in disrepair.
My parents had just finished a renovation, and they had spent about $150,000 on the house, the equivalent of about £30,000.
We’d just bought the property in December.
We’d been in a house-flipping frenzy since we moved in, with the property sold to a buyer for a tidy sum and the proceeds going to fund renovations.
I’d never had a house sale before, and it felt surreal to be in the same building as an old-fashioned Victorian mansion.
The renovation was complete and the property was now in good condition.
I didn, however, think that the house would last for another two years.
I had a lot of questions, and in an effort to help answer them, I took a few hours to visit my parents.
They were sitting in the living room, a big, wide window showing a wide, grey expanse.
I stood in front of the window, my arms crossed, my head bowed.
The lights were dimmed and the curtains drawn, and my mum and dad were talking quietly.
“Are you okay?” my mum asked.
“I’m okay, mum,” I replied.
“We’ve got to make sure you’re OK, too, and that you’re comfortable.”
“Yeah, but Mum, I don’t know how we’re going to get home.””OK, OK, just relax, we’ll talk later.”
I was standing in the dark with my arms folded, my back arched, and staring into the darkness.
My dad was standing behind me.
“It’s OK, honey.
I’ll do it.
I’m just waiting for you to come downstairs.
You don’t want to hear me.”
I shook my head, my shoulders hunched.
“OK, mum, I’m OK, I’ve just got a headache.
I’ve had a couple of beers and I can’t think straight.
I can only remember getting into this house.”
My mum had stopped talking.
“No, it’s OK,” she said, holding my shoulders again.
“There’s nothing you can do.”
“Well, there’s nothing I can do.
I sat down on the couch and started sobbing.
My family had been through a lot together. I don