Dawn. The crumbling tower blocks looked particularly beautiful this morning. Polluted clouds rolled past, withered pigeons searching for sustenance in the concrete wastes.
Nathan sat on a swing in the rusted, decaying playground and lit a cigarette. As he took a drag, he noticed his hand was shaking.
Inside the pirate ship climbing frame, wrapped inside three bin-liners, was Charlotte, his girlfriend.
He'd said he didn't want the baby when she'd tearfully confessed her pregnancy to him. He couldn't look after a child. Not at fifteen.
A disagreement had ensued. She'd stopped breathing.
And so had her unborn baby.