CARLA JENKINS LIKED TO START HER DAY WITH COFFEE. It was a habit she had grown into; the caffeine woke her up, kept her alert, and when enough sugar was added, it tasted rather pleasant.

     Every morning, the first thing she would do was make herself a cup of coffee, stirring in enough sugar to take away the bitter edge, and throughout the day she'd have at least two more mugs.

      So, how did she know it was going to be a bad day? First of all, she had woken up to the sound of a man getting thrown out of the bar on the other side of the street, swearing and shouting drunkenly.

     Slowly, eyes blinking once, twice, three times, she turned to face the clock on her bedside desk, and saw it was just gone six in the morning. Far too early for any sane teenager.

     Knowing there was no chance she would get any more sleep, Carla groaned, burying her face in her pillow, before clambering out of bed, not realising her bedsheets were tangled around her legs until it was too late and she landed with a heavy thump on her hard floor.

     That was how she ended up with grazed knees and watery eyes from the stinging impact of the fall. To make matters worse, she was out of coffee granules.

     And that was the moment Carla Jenkins knew it was going to be a bad day. She was right, of course.

     It was a bad day to start an even worse week.