shared spaces - no place of my own

I was sleeping on a mattress on the floor in a vast room, the size of a small church hall. Other mattresses were laid out on the floor all around me in neat lines; the room seemed to be a bedroom for about thirty people although no one else lay sleeping on the mattresses. I roused myself and crossed the room, stepping over the mattresses, into the adjoining room where other people were stirring, and then outside to where other early risers were going about their early morning business. I looked briefly around for my good friend and, upon not finding her, went back into the room where I had slept, determined to go back to sleep. While I had been outside, a few people, both adults and children, had gathered and were sitting on my mattress, talking and laughing quietly. I decided to move to another mattress so as not to have to move them on, but found that I was now unable to get back to sleep.
Next, I was living in a small apartment with my entire family plus a few other people. The apartment had a few security issues and we were all a little on edge as we listened to groups of drunk people pass by our door as they searched for their rooms, up and down the corridor. At one stage, my father ventured outside in order to check the hall and safeguard our apartment. I was concerned and followed him out so I could be by his side to face whatever we must face. Another group of drunken louts rioted down the corridor and mistakenly attempted to enter our apartment, thinking that it was theirs. We blocked the doorway and did our best to move them on, suggesting they try the next floor up. They left and we closed and locked the door. I leant against the door, looked at my father and told him that I was not sure that I could stay here very long, that I wanted to move somewhere safer.