Morgan was a friendly, affectionate, happy boy who turned 7 on the 10th October 2013. Football was his passion and he played for Chelsea's development programme after his school football coach spotted his brilliant rainbow kick. Morgan had asthma which didnt often interfere with his day to day life, he never let it slow him down and was using a ventolin inhaler and a seratide inhaler, he never had an overnight stay in hospital and had no trips to the GP until 5th November. This visit was to get some more inhalers as he had recently ran out because we'd been moved to a different borough after being evicted from our previously private rented home. The new GP prescribed a different inhaler this time for reasons unclear to us and a few days later on the 12th November in the evening his chest became tight and wheezy. We gave him his inhalers but they didnt appear to help so we decided to find the nearest hospital and drive there so he could use the nebuliser machine as he had done on a few other occasions. He walked out the front door and got in the car and it was at this second our whole world crumbled around us in the most terrifying nightmare you could ever imagine. He stopped breathing and went rigid, Chris grabbed him and pulled him across the seat to get him out the car at the same time as calling 999. We layed him in the middle of the road and tipped his head back, trying to open up his airways. The terror in my head at that second made me rigid with fear, I could hardly think straight but I tried to remember what little I knew of cpr, I breathed into his mouth and saw his chest rise but couldnt tell if he had a pulse or not. Two sisters opposite heard the noise and came out, one of them got on her hands and knees and tried to help Morgan while the other ran inside for a blanket. An ambulaunce came round the corner followed by another and a car and at that point I thought thank god, he'll be ok, they're here now. They picked him up and got him in the back of one of the ambulaunces and I saw them doing chest compressions. I was frozen to the spot. I remember them somehow getting me and Chris in the front of the ambulaunces and the whole convoy driving with sirens blaring to Kings College hospital where they rushed him into A&E and about 30 docters and nurses were rushing around his bed, still doing chest compressions and shouting about adrenilin. The thing I remember most about the next 10 minutes or so was hearing the words 'another 2 minutes', 'another 2 minutes' and I remember repeating over and over 'come on Morgan', while rocking back and forth. I also remember screaming in my head 'GOD' 'GOD' because I couldnt string a sentance together so I thought just keep screaming his name because he will hear you. But he didnt, eventually they told us they were going to stop and took us to his side where we held his little arms and stroked his little face and had to say goodbye. I told them this was impossible, he was alive 20 minutes ago, children dont die, its nearly christmas so this can't have happened and all other sorts of useless mumblings through my tears. Eventually we had to walk out the door because the kids at home were calling our phones repeatedly and we knew we couldnt answer because they were going to ask 'is he alright?......' Life will never be the same again for any of us without that wonderful little boy driving us all nuts, saying funny things like 'fat boulder' and 'you look like Jonny Cash doe', dancing around in his Mr Happy boxer shorts and kicking a football at every opportunity. The only way to keep my heart beating is to find positivity daily, positivity that he's still here with me, positivity that I'll hug him again one day... I love you forever my little superstar...