Paragraph 1: It had been a normal day at home. My morning routine was complete in less than half an hour and I was on my way to work before eight. The sun was very bright and low on the horizon. Shielding my eyes with my hand while still holding the steering wheel, I wished that I had remembered my sunglasses. As I approached the traffic lights, I could see that the amber was about to glow so I pressed hard on the accelerator.

Paragraph 2: The house was just as I had remembered it, cold, deep red brickwork and tiles that needed repairing. I needed to visit it again to face up to my fears and try to rid myself of the thoughts that crowded my mind when my eyes were closed. Nobody could know what I knew, nobody could feel what I had felt in that place as a child. The door was open. I walked cautiously into the unlit hall and became the frightened ten-year old again. I shook myself back to the adult I had become and opened the door to the kitchen.