Alice went to sleep on the morning next to her boyfriend at the Community Housing complex. He too was drunk and stoned. Somewhere towards daylight she must have realised that she was having troulbe breathing as she reached for her Atrovent puffer. Her boyfreind woke up flustered because he was late for work, and when he asked Alice where his cigarettes and she didn't answer, her realised that something was wrong. He ran around in a panic waking others up. They decided to get rid of all the evidence of their drug taking. Her boyfriend rang his Dad, panic stricken. His dad told him to ring an ambulance. The ambulance came, but it was too late. Alice's Dad, Mark, and I were at work that morning, having earlier taken our car for servicing. Mark received a phone call from our son, James, to say that Alice had been partying and something was wrong and she had been taken by ambulance to Calvary Hospital. Mark and I bundled ourselves into a taxi and sped off to the hospital. By the time we had arrived, so too had our two eldest sons. About an hour after arriving we were told that Alice had died. Our youngest son then arrived. Our lives were never to be the same.