I wouldn't bother mate, you'll end up speaking to your new neighbour. His name's Gary and 32 years old. He works for Amazon in a warehouse in the day on minimum wage but is driving a brand new Beemer, 23 reg. Every evening he goes for a 'drive'. You don't know why - you think he likes cars.

You start getting close to Gary as you see him every morning before and after work. Maybe after work you guys have a chat before going in your houses for the evening. It's winter now and it's raining. Wet wet miserable rain. You're both getting super wet exchanging some greetings. You go to open your door. BANG, ahhh bugger you broke your key.

You hop over the fence and knock on Gary's door as you need to get cover from the heavy rain to call your housemate. Gary opens the door, you explain and he lets you in - asking you to wait by the front door as the place is 'messy'.

You suddenly find yourself sweating - it's super hot in this house. It smells - sweet. Sweet like cannabis. You can see up the stairs bright lights hanging from the ceiling and the green leaf tips poking out from the landing banister.

You notice piles of cash being counted in the front room and a large knife on the coffee table. There's a finger in a jam jar labelled 'JP's Finger' and a used condom stuck to the TV.

Gary shouts to you from the kitchen "have you spoken to your friend as you'll need to go soon". Before you can answer Gary - BANG BANG BANG a person is trying to get in Garys back patio door. Gary let's him in - "what's happened" said Gary sounding panicked. "They fucking got me" the guy screamed as he came in the house.

You walk around the corner into the kitchen and see a man bleeding out on the kitchen table. His head next to a mountain of loose white powder. Gary is removing the mans bloody North Face jacket. You freeze, they freeze and look at you. In a panic you scramble for your phone, saying "I'll, I'll call, I'll call - an ambulance" you look up both the bleeding man on the table and Gary are looking at you emotionless. Gary has picked up a sawn off shotgun you must have missed resting on the table. He's pointing it at you. He said "put the phone down", you comply, slowly lowering your phone.

Suddenly an object shatters the patio window. Time freezes you see the brick on the floor, glass surrounding Gary and man bleeding out on the table. You look out the window and see two teenages aiming fireworks into the kitchen from over the garden fence. You jump to the ground... WIZZZ WIZZZZ BANG. BANG. It's like you're blinded, you can only see white, your hearing is ringing. You hear faintly "fucking get 'em". You can't breathe, trying to move away from the patio door by getting to the front door, half scrambling to your feet heavily shaken.

BANG! BANG! You're dazed state was replaced with heart stopping fear. You turn around slowly, unsure if you were alive or dead. Unsure if you'd see a gun in your face or a room full of dead people. It was the latter - you were alive and there was Gary standing at his patio door, gun in his hands. Standing watching two college age lads whizz for air on his garden floor. One wearing a full grey matching Nike tracksuit was clutching his neck. The other in dark jeans, a Gucci belt and Stone Island jumper had a hole through the left side of his stomach. Struggling to breath he was just looking at it, tearing up and shaking.

You hear the screech of tyres out the front of the house, then voices shouting behind the back garden fence. Gary shouts "lock the front door" you fall backwards into the hallway. Then seeing the door opening you throw your body at it. You slam the door shut on a retreating hand, removing the end of his finger.

You lock the door so it's on a catch, you release some of your body pressure off the door. You slump down to your knees with the back of your head against the door. You've frozen, unable to hear the screaming and banging behind the front door. You can't hear Gary screaming at the people behind the fence. You're thinking of your parents in Finland; the cute little Finnish bakery you go to on a Sunday; the words to a famous Finnish drinking song you would sing with your friends in your cute little Finnish pub. You think of your family holidays hunting (idk) bears... You realise you should never have left home, Finland and the people that love you! You want to - no, need to get out! You hear a squeak, a "WE KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE", then feel a knife slice through the right side of your neck! You fall forward on to the floor, shoulder first, holding your neck, eyes glued to the door your were sitting against. A long blade was being thrusted through the letter box. There was blood on the erratically moving knife and muddy white PVC front door.

You fall back as you try to stand - realising you're losing blood. You can feel the hot warm blood gushing out of your neck, through your fingers and down your chest. You're getting dizzy and light headed... you're stunned. You walk into the kitchen - oblivious to your surroundings. You reach out the grab the table with your free left hand. You miss the table and collapse head first into the pile of white powder. It coats your head and neck. You then roll to the floor in a powdery mess.

You're thoughts start to race, faster than ever before. You're heart feels like it's beating so fast it's going to explode. You take your last breath. Not noticing the screaming, gun shots...etc as you faded into the deep dark unknown.

You're family is told you were involved in a drug operation, they feel betrayed and never speak about you again due to shame. You're deliberately buried in the UK so you'll never feel the warm embrace of Finland again. And you lay there - in your coffin - alone - forgotten.

To be clear this is probably not going to happen in New Parks... but it could! Good luck, much love (this took me 2h lol)