[[It's 4:30am …Eurgggh. I know I said I wouldn't be updating for a while, but here goes…its probably going to be rubbish. Oh and to Simon23 who commented, I really don't find that appropriate at all, so go do one yeah! Thanks for all the other reviews so far.]]
She lays in bed, willing her brain to give in, and let her sleep. There is no chance of that though. She knows full well that she will still be awake at 3am, when her daughter is due a feed. She knows full well, that nothing she tries in the next 2 and a half hours, will help her get even just a smidgen of shut eye. She should be used to it by now, but she isn't. Her body craves sleep. Her mind craves sleep.
Her eyes wander around the room. They stare in through the cot bars, taking in the way her daughter breathes in and out at a regular pace. Not a care in the world. Knowing nothing of what is happening around her. Knowing nothing of pain and suffering. Knowing nothing of hatred or loss. Ronnie wishes day in, day out, that this still applied to her.
She shifted her position yet again. She turned one hundred and eighty degrees, to see the back of her mothers head. Her silky hair still in a perfect bob around her shoulders. When she was little, she often got in bed with her mum. Whenever she couldn't sleep, or when she had had a nightmare, and even if there was just one clap of thunder.
A 5 year old Veronica Mitchell, stood in the door way of her mothers bedroom. Her eyes brimmed with tears threatening to spill. ''Mummy, I'm scared'' she whispered, barely audible, as her mother slowly opened her eyes and took in the way her daughter looked so frightened. Another clap of thunder roared throughout the street outside. Little Veronica almost jumped out of her skin. Tears immediately ran down her cheeks, as she stared directly into her mothers eyes. Glenda knew how scared her daughter was of thunder. Archie would always shout at her for getting out of bed, and instantly pick her up and remove her, taking her straight back to her own bedroom, where she would cry herself to sleep. It wasn't the thunder that made her cry though. Veronica was more scared of her father than she was of thunder. A sudden flash of lightening seeped through into the bedroom, lighting up the whole room. Rain splattered on the windows, creating a constant tapping noise. ''What's up darlin'?'' Glenda got out of bed and kneeled down in front of her eldest daughter. ''Its ok baby'' she said with a smile, as she wrapped her arms around her petrified daughter. ''Come and get in mummy's bed.'' she added. She stood up, towering over her dainty little girl, and scooped her up, into her arms, causing all the worries and fright, to immediately disappear from her daughter. Veronica knew she could always count on her mummy to be there and make everything better. She led in bed next to her mother, and snuggled deep into her arms, falling asleep almost instantly.
Ronnie let out a sigh. It echoed in her bedroom, making it seem at least ten times louder than intended. She shifted her body yet again, trying to get comfortable. Sleep threatened to take over her body and her eyes began to close. She blinked, leaning upright slightly, peering over her mothers shoulder, to catch a glimpse of the time. 01:17. She felt like she had been in bed for hours, but in reality, it was just less than one hour. Her mother appeared to have fallen asleep, as soon as her head hit the pillow. Ronnie lay her head back down, and yawned. Her eyes were finally giving in. This would the first time in years that Ronnie was asleep before 3am. She smiled to herself slightly, as her eyes eventually closed.
Within mere seconds, Ronnie's eyes widened and she jumped out of bed. What was she doing. Why was she allowing herself to sleep this early. She knew she couldn't allow herself to. She knew she had to stay awake. She had to stay awake, because every time she closed her eyes, she had that same dream over and over again. That same dream, where she had to relive the most sickening and gut wrenching moments of her life, that she wished she had never had to go through. That dream that she so desperately tried to avoid, so as not to see his eyes, looking down onto her with slimmer of self satisfaction. Not to hear his voice muttering those very words that seeped into her body, and made her skin crawl. Not to feel his warm breath on her, that made her feel nauseous. As soon as her eyes closed, she saw that smug grin of his, and she knew immediately that he couldn't allow herself to sleep, not yet.
Ronnie's stomach churned. She couldn't get his face out of her head, even with her eyes open. Bile rose in her throat, but she knew she couldn't get to the bathroom in time. Holding her hand over her mouth, she saw her bin out the corner of her eye. Running over, she proceeded to vomit into it. She tried her hardest to be quiet, but who can be sick silently? Nobody, she told herself. Tears started to form in the corners of her eyes. She hated the way he still had a hold on her. Hated the way, that even though he was dead and buried, he still had total control.
Ronnie wiped her mouth with a baby wipe and grabbed the bin, wanting to dispose of its contents straight away. She walked across the darkened landing, and went straight into the kitchen. She didn't turn on the light. She knew, that if she did, her eyes would ache, and it would take her longer to adjust to the light, than it would to dispose of the bag inside the small wicker bin. She walked back to her bedroom, where she intended to just sit and wait for her daughter to wake. There hadn't been even a stir from her mother, she Ronnie presumed she hadn't woken her. Ronnie stepped down into her bedroom. Her whole body ached and was begging her to just relax. A concept she had never grasped.
She sat down on the step slowly. From this angle, she could see her daughters innocent, trouble free face, sleeping peacefully. This tiny little person, who had changed her life dramatically, lay in her cot, not a care in the world. Ronnie made a vow, to always protect her little girl. To always keep her from harm. To always be there for her, to give her the world if it was possible.
Ronnie was so intent on watching her sleeping beauty, that she hadn't even noticed that Glenda was now sat up in the bed, just watching her daughter.
''What's up darlin'?'' She whispered. The sight of her 35 year old daughter, sitting in the door way brought back memories. Memories that Ronnie had thought of, not even 15 minutes ago. Ronnie's heart skipped a beat, as she was suddenly aware that her mother was awake. She could only just make out her mothers features, in the tiny shower of light, peering in between the gap in the curtains, from the street lights outside.
Ronnie hung her head. She wanted to tell her mum. She wanted to confide in her. She wanted her mum to tell her that everything was going to be ok. Just like she did when she was little. Only, Ronnie had learned not to trust people, not to let them in. If you let them in, your only going to get hurt. And, what if her reaction is the same as Roxy's was. What if she doesn't believe me. Thing is, I need my mum. I need her to make things better like she did when I was little. But this isn't just a clap of thunder. This isn't a silly little dream, where I wake up and realise that there are no such thing as the boogey monster, and there sure as hell isn't one in my wardrobe. This is much worse than that. This is a secret I have kept for 21 year. 21 years, that she hadn't even been a part of. Ronnie twiddled with her fingers unknowingly. She looked around the room, hoping to focus her attention away from her mother in the hope of thinking of something to say. I can't tell her the truth….can I? she asked herself.
Tears suddenly cascaded down Ronnie's face. I cant believe I'm going to say this. I never open up to anyone. Her train of thought came to an abrupt end, as a deep sob escaped her, causing Glenda to jump out of bed and approach her daughter. They looked into each others eyes, as if they were trying to work each other out.
''I'm scared mum''
[[I don't like this chapter, but I've spent 2 days writing it. Please R&R…constructive criticism always welcome]]