Hey guys! Chapter 3 is now up! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far. Some people have been asking for some Rack (Ronnie and Jack) in this fic but there will not be any introduction of a male romance interest just yet I'm afraid or the reveal of Ronnie's daughter's Father. I can promise you though that I will reveal the little girl's name in the next chapter! Don't get too hyped up as it might just be a let-down for you but I hope you enjoy this chapter and please review if you can! xxx
Ronnie Mitchell cracked a can of lemonade open extremely slowly, desperately trying not to hurt her sore fingers where she had bitten the nails down to measly thin stubs from her worry and angst. She shook the can around in a circle several times, close to her face, inhaling the familiar smells of the lemon; the can so close, that she could almost feel minute bubbles rising from it's opening and making contact with her cheeks. She sighed heavily – something she did often, usually when she was alone, in complete silence, with only the sounds being of her worries whizzing through her body like rivers of acid – and so the face of the can became instantly foggy from the moisture of her breath. Ronnie swirled her finger round and round the top of the can to clear away the fog, wishing that it was that easy to clear away all of her worries and troubles and placed it down on the kitchen worktop, ready to give to her daughter when she awoke from her recent nap. It was an unusual favourite of the little girl's; flat lemonade. A rare thing occurred at that moment when Ronnie laughed out loud to herself – something she hadn't done in a long time – at the remembrance of the day when the little girl had told her mum her reasoning for not enjoying a proper fizzy drink. The enjoyable memory came flooding back to Ronnie as she opened up a can of lemonade for herself and slowly took a sip, the burning sensation of the fizz cascading down through her lips and tickling her throat as it progressed to make contact with her lower insides.
"Ouch Mummy," exclaimed the little girl, hurriedly placing her glass of juice on the floor and clasping both of her hands to her face, sheltering her nose.
Ronnie went straight into panic mode. She jumped up from the couch beside her daughter and placed both of her hands on the little girl's face, trying to hold her steady to examine what was wrong.
"Oh darling, what's the matter?" asked Ronnie speedily, her heart pounding right to the edge of her chest with fright and her eyes welling up in fear that this was the time for the fatal hospital dash that she had been terrified about making, but she was ready to sprint for all she was worth to fetch whatever her daughter needed to overcome this particular symptom of her cancer. "Do you need your painkillers, honey?" questioned Ronnie, desperate to get an answer as soon as possible so as not to waste precious time.
"No, Mummy, you're so silly," squealed the little girl in delight, in hysterics at the sight of her mother in such panic about something so silly.
"Wait a minute, what are you talking about sweetheart?" asked Ronnie, her voice submerged in a confused tone. "You're in pain, aren't you?" "Is it your poor head again?"
"No silly," replied the little girl, her voice absolutely ignited in happiness. "The fizzies in my drink went up my nose," laughed the girl, rolling back into the couch as she squealed in hysterics. "They tickled my nose and I didn't like it,"
Ronnie was astounded at how funny her daughter was. She was about to burst into fits of laughter just like the little girl and enjoy the unique moment where the word cancer didn't matter, but she held it back in order to have a little fun of her own.
"Oh really, it tickled did it, it must have been so annoying?" replied Ronnie, leading the child on, in an affectionate, apparently clueless voice. The little girl nodded furiously in agreement, her eyes alite with excitement.
"Well now, and I'm only guessing here, did this tickly feeling feel something like this?" And at that moment, the room was filled to the brim and bursting with the sound of a young child's infectious, mood-enlightening laughter as her mother tickled her around her stomach and underneath her chin, making her laugh harder than she had done in such a long time.
Ronnie was so unbelievably happy as she watched her daughter roll hysterically around on the couch, begging her to stop but at the same time enjoying and savouring this rare moment of cheeriness. Ronnie wished that time would slow down, just for a moment, to allow her to keep them both locked in this sanctuary of positivity and happiness because Ronnie was fully aware that it wouldn't be long before the cruel cancer time bomb gave in and another terrifying seizure or uncontrollable nose bleed was set off in her daughter's body and sent floods of tears falling from both the victim and witness's eyes. Why them? Why now? Why anyone at all?
But Ronnie couldn't focus on that right now. Whether or not time-travel really existed, she knew she had to savour these precious happy moments greatly as though they would never come again. And as another joyful, precious laughter escaped from her daughter's mouth, Ronnie Mitchell realised what a special and brave little girl she had. Nothing was going to take her away from her, take that happiness away from her and no one was certainly going to cause her daughter pain, so long as she could stop it.....
Ronnie's eyes burst open and she sat up hurriedly, a pain twinging in her neck as she realised she had been too eager to wake up out of the dream. She realised as soon as she had sat up, that she had fallen asleep at the kitchen table as she had remembered that sacred memory, but she wasn't sure what had disturbed this precious sleep. Until she looked beside her at the table. Her mobile phone was vibrating repeatedly, the inside of the phone almost screaming to deliver the important message. Ronnie shakily picked up the phone, still half-trapped in the dream world and opened it up. It was an alarm reminder that she had set for herself. A reminder which she was glad she had made. A reminder that ultimately confirmed that she had been brought back to reality.
ALARM:
12.30pm
M.R.I. Scan
Forest Way Children's Hospital
And so the cycle resumed. Ronnie sighed heavily at the thought of her situation. Would either of them be freed from this awful disease? Would her daughter ever lead a normal life? Would she see her daughter grow to be an adult? These questions were trapped in Ronnie's head 24/7 and nothing she could do would shut them out. It looked like they would remain there forever, growing larger and stronger every time her daughter had a seizure or collapsed in the school playground and nothing could stop them from smothering them both. But for now, the main, most important question in Ronnie's mind was:
"Would this brain scan show up any new, or even fatal brain tumours?"
Thanks again for reading guys! I've just read this back and I can't believe I based the majority of this chapter on a can of lemonade! I'm so weird! I guess it was because it was 24° here today Glasgow and I was sitting outside writing this all day, sipping a can of Coke furiously in an attempt to cool myself down (without much success). I get my inspiration from the strangest places! :-D Anyway, please review and I hope you enjoyed it!
