‘Hello, Panic, My Old Friend’ iii. My twelve-year-old cousin started playing indoor cricket and his mum asked me to take him to the Centre. I didn’t know how to say no. But I didn’t know how I could say yes. I couldn’t go out. I told myself that it was just the Centre, where I’d gone hundreds of times. But those hundreds of times I could always leave. Now I’d be anchored there. What happened if I had problems? What would happen to him? What would happen to me? The first game I took him to, I felt fine on the drive up as he yapped away. Once we got…