Okay, so this is the first story I've done on this website or on any website for that matter, lol, so tell me what you think!
Chapter 1
She woke up slowly, the consequences of last night's actions now beginning to set in. For Ronnie Mitchell had drunk too much alcohol for the 3rd night running this week and had started to make it a habit rather than a treat. She listened for any proof of life in her flat, and was satisfied when she'd heard nothing at all; she always ended up rather embarrassed about the way she ended up after an alcohol-fuelled night. The only thing that she could hear was the gentle patter of the rain against her bedroom window, which was a much better sound than the consistent drumming in her head at the current moment. On sitting up, she had noticed two things:
That her clothes from last night had disappeared from the floor as if it had a life of its own, and walked to the top of her chest of drawers, where they lay neatly folded. And
Next to her clothes, there was a cup of what appeared to be water and a piece of paper next to it. She reached out for the note, getting annoyed at her inability to stretch far without wincing in pain. When she'd finally accomplished her somewhat painful task, she opened the note and read it.
'I've left you a glass of water with some aspirin, take the medication please, it's for your own good. There's food for you in the microwave, I heard fry-ups can cure a hangover, but I wouldn't know... I hate fry-ups! x'
Ronnie smiled at the note, her first genuine smile in what appeared to be a few weeks. She was used to plastering on a fake polite smile, a very convincing one too, but this note had given Ronnie reason to smile, as it was from her housemate, Danielle. Danielle was just younger than Ronnie and was helping Ronnie majorly with the rent. Roxy, Ronnie's old housemate, couldn't handle Ronnie's 'special' organisational skills and left her to fight it alone. Ever since moving in, Danielle had been trying so hard to get along with Ronnie, tidying up whenever she can, cooking whenever she could etc. Ronnie couldn't be happier that she wasn't alone, she detested being lonely at times, but there was something about Danielle that made Ronnie feel on edge...
Ronnie grabbed the glass from the top of the drawer, and gulped down the medication and started to search her room for her dressing gown. In her head, Ronnie knew that this little drinking habit of hers had to stop. She'd seen how much Phil had changed due to alcohol, and was sure that she didn't want to end up like that. However, she knew exactly why she drank. She drank to take away the never-ending aching and pain of losing her precious daughter. Ronnie had given birth to a gorgeous baby girl aged 14, due to a wild night of raving, alcohol and sexual games with her then-boyfriend, Joel and their mates, only to have the life and joy sucked out of her when her mother decided that she would rather keep living a life filled with pride than one where she was ashamed to call Ronnie her daughter. Ronnie had begged and pleaded to keep her little girl, but her plea fell on deaf ears because she knew her mum wouldn't ever let her keep Amy, and her father, who sided with Ronnie no matter what, couldn't control the situation due to being quite ill at the time. So Amy was adopted and was never seen or heard of again, every mother's nightmare. Ronnie paused in her tracks to think about her daughter, she had done this every morning, so it wasn't unusual. Making her way to the kitchen to get the food Danielle made for her, she checked the time on the TV. Half eleven. "Shit!" she screamed and ran towards the shower. She had to be at R'n'Rs for midday for a meeting with the bank manager and her business partner and best mate, Jack Branning.