Electric euphoria crackles behind his eyes like canned lightning. He lowers the pipe and smoke curls from his lips with a sigh. A slight smile comes across his face; he giggles quietly at his inner joker.

Both the smoker and the room in which he sits are a wreck.

None of the others would help him. Most of them wouldn’t even acknowledge his existence; for that’s what it is – an existence. You couldn’t call it a life. Life is when people appreciate you, love you, and want to be with you.

Now his days are filled with drugs, alcohol and abuse. Each day is the same; a haze of pain and loneliness.

A noise catches his attention and he turns his bloodshot eyes towards the window. He watches as the others walk past; he can hear them coming through the front door.

Then she starts to sing.

The noise grates in his ears, he presses his hands against them and he rocks on his heels. Tension squirms in his gut like an oily snake.

He groans, gets to his feet and stumbles forward to the door. He stands with his head bent, hand against the jamb and takes a breath to steady himself.

He slams open the door and walks forward into the large kitchen, the singing stops.

Snow White stands, hands on hips, lips pursed and an accusing look in her eyes. The other dwarves are avoiding his sweeping gaze, embarrassed to be in the same room as him.

‘Well if it isn’t our eighth brother,’ Doc sneered. ‘sober again I see?’

Dreamy sways on the spot, looking between Doc and Snow White.

‘It’s your fault you bitch, we were happy before you came!’ He roars.

Getting down from his soapbox he turns to walk back to his room; it’s at this point his mind decides otherwise and he falls silently to the floor without bending. He goes down like a very short tree.

Doc looks at him, shrugs and turns to the others, smiling.

‘I don’t know about you,’ he winks conspiratorially, ‘but I’m still happy! Coming to bed Snow White?’