R v Miller

So I thought it would be a cool idea if I started writing little stories based on cases I learn about in law. This is my first one, sorrry if its bad or if I got the ways of smoking wrong, it's kind of based on the case of R v Miller. 

The house was cold, too cold, so I curled up tighter under the frayed rug I had found in a cupboard under the stairs. The broken springs in the mattress pressed against my hip and shoulder and the chilling breeze coming through the broken windows sent shivers down my spine. Pulling my knees up to my chin, I closed my eyes and tried to get some sleep. My efforts were useless however and soon I was sat up again, savouring the sweet taste of nicotine from my last cigarette. I didn't know how things had become so bad, one minute I was graduating from university, the next I was homeless, jobless and alone. I sucked hard on the cigarette, hoping the fumes would make my thoughts disappear, but they didn't. The cloud of smoke left my lips but the worries stayed inside of me, feasting on my brain and soul, damaging me to the core. I took out a bottle of vodka from inside my trench coat and tried to drown my sorrows. I drank and drank, my vision becoming more blurred by the mouthful. Eventually, the hazy darkness took over me. I fell against the mattress, passed out, cigarette in hand, one end burning a bright orange.