The smoke in the room was so thick, that her vision was somewhat tainted by it. Personally, she hated smoking, with a passion. So many times she had talked to someone about her issues with smoking. A few people had listened, and actually thought about it. A few people, two in fact had acted upon what she said and quit. At least it wasn't pointless her rambling about the reason smoking is bad for you. Not just for your health.

As with most things, her hate of all things smoky began with her parents. Neither of them smoked, and she had always believed that it was 'bad' the girls smoking behind the bike sheds were held on ignore throughout the day, and the thought of someone she cared about in the least smoking made her stomach churn. Her deciding factor to actually talk to people about smoking had nothing to do with smoking at all. However, it gave her a real perspective on life.

It was summer, nearly three years ago now. A fairly young family moved in next door to Sophie. A Mum and Dad, a brother and Trisha. Although there was a difference in ages, Sophie and Trisha 'hit it off'. Sophie was sixteen at the time, and Trisha thirteen. Through the age gap, they got on well, extremely well. Both had their fair share of pain in life. Sophie's father was barely around, spending time either at work or at his girlfriend's house, and Trisha's mother had suffered from Breast cancer two years ago. Sophie’s father scorned upon their friendship. He had no idea what his daughter would have in common with a girl of such a young age; he accepted it, just like he had accepted her addiction to the Internet. It would make a good argument from time to time.

For two years, the pair became best friends. So much so that Sophie had almost become a sister to Trisha. She stayed over at their house, talking to Trisha's parents into the night. Stayed for tea on various occasions, even met members of their family. It was then that disaster struck. For four months, Trisha's mum had been complaining of chest pains. Suffered with colds, coughs and an array of other nasty sickness bugs. It took a long while for the doctors to listen, and on one extremely painful day, they were told that Trisha's mum had secondary cancer.

The news shook everyone, especially considering this time. She wasn't going to make it. The cancer had spread into her lungs and through her blood stream to various areas, and was untreatable. They gave her two months. Sophie witnessed the most heartbreaking thing in her life to date over the next three months. From Trisha's brother beating himself up, to the numbness of her once jolly father. Trisha herself suffered from the same numbness. When her mother was finally rushed to hospital, everyone knew it would be the last place she would see.

She was set up in a room of her own. A television, a bed, a radio, even her own toilet. She had gone visiting Trisha's mum with the others. Trisha's brother hadn't come; he couldn't bear to see his mum in the state she was in. She'd lost stones, and looked frail like an old lady. She guessed that was what cancer did to you. Eating away at your own life source. It wouldn't eat at her memories though. Tears were shed, and on Sophie's part, it was to be goodbye. She leaned in slowly and hugged the woman who had become a very close friend of hers. A Whisper of 'Thank You' brought on more tears, if she'd have had the strength to; she would have thwacked Sophie for six because of it. How else would she be able to tell her though? Through all the crap her father had out her though, Trisha's mum had been there when he wasn't, why did she have to suffer like this?

Her funeral was held in late July. It was a hot day, but the tears cooled most people down. Sophie sat on the family side of the chapel. Invited by many of Trisha's family. Thankfully, they were prepared with tissues.

Sophie was daydreaming, staring off into space in the smoke filled room. All these people were forcing cancer on themselves, when it was already a threat to them anyway. Why give something that would kill you an extra chance? Didn't they know the pain of death? Didn't they stop to think, just what would happen when they didn't even reach their fortieth birthday party, leaving a couple of children behind and their partners widowed? Sophie glanced across at everyone. Only three people out of the 20 or so bar staff at the club she worked didn't smoke. Including her. How on earth was she going to convince nearly twenty people that they should quit what they were addicted to? How would she make them feel the hurt she felt every time someone lit up?