You've heard of Shopaholics, but have you heard of Chocaholics???
My eyes swept round the room, scanning the faces of each person, recognising each expression as I went.
Anger. Pity. Embaressment. Laughter. But that was aunt Judy laughing, and she's on anti-depressants so that particular emotion doesn't technically count.
"Look" breathed my mother, her face looking livid, with purpley-blue veins popping up and weaving themselves round her wrinkled, weary face."We know what you've done, and if you own up to it now, we can help" she said that last word like it had forced its way out through her thin lips, like she would not have chosen the word otherwise.
I looked down at my feet, watching them sway about an inch above the floor, even though I am tall for my age. I absentmindedly grabbed my long ponytails, trying to think of what to say.
"I didn't steal it" I mumbled at the floor, finding that a lie was much easier to say rather than the truth. I looked up at my mother, whose expression was now looking smug, as though she knew something I didn't.
"Well then, if you didn't steal it, why did I find these underneath your duvet then, hmm?" she triumphently thrusts her fist forward, which she then opens, to show telltale crumbs of chocolate, almost melting in her sweaty palm. Damn. I thought I'd cleared those up.
That's how it all started, me just innocently stealing a chocolate easter egg out of the fridge. But now, chocolate rules my life...