[COMPLETED BUT WONT LET ME PRESS THE COMPLETED BUTTON AHAHHA]
Aurora Lockheart was once the sunshine girl-bright, kind, and full of life. But one night changed everything, leaving her a shadow of who she used to be.
A year later, just as she's be...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Shan had stayed overnight at the hospital with Marie, Dad was wherever he was, so it was just me and Joey looking after the boys.
I couldn't go into school Wednesday morning, Ollie had been up all night with his guts so I was the one looking after him today. Joey tried protesting that I should've gone to school, but there was no way I was leaving him alone with Dad all day.
"Right, give me a few minutes, and I'll go get you some toast, 'Kay?" I whisper as Ollie gives me a nod, his tired eyes lighting up a bit at the promise of a warm late breakfast.
While I'm making my way downstairs, my phone buzzes.
'Am I allowed to Claire's tonight or is it a bad idea?'
Ive never felt more guilty, she should be allowed out with her friends,she's fifteen not a seven year old.
'He's on a warpath today, I'm sorry Shan :('
'It's okay x' she put back as I sigh, walking into the kitchen.
I grab a couple of slices from the bread bin, making sure the permission slip for Donegal is on top. Shan and I had already checked with Marie about going, yet there they sat, still unsigned.
The school required the signatures for the overnight trip. I felt a pang of guilt for wanting to go, but Joey had given me countless reasons why I should.
"Make me some toast too," Dad mumbles from the table, a cigarette dangling from his lips.
"Give me five, I need to get this to Ollie."
"He can do it himself, he's not dead."
I couldn't be arsed to argue with him, so I handed him Ollie's two slices, tossing two more pieces of bread into the toaster.
He takes a swig of his drink just before munching on the toast as I start on the washing up.
"Should've left it for Marie to do," he mutters.
I didn't care much for the woman, but I couldn't help feeling sorry for her in a few ways; being stuck with him was just the beginning.
"Easier if I do it," I mutter as the toaster pops.
"Don't give me backchat," he snaps, clearly annoyed. "Where's my money then? You were meant to hand it over this morning."
"Jaysus," I mutter, spreading butter on the toast.
He dumps his plate in the sink and approaches me.
"Well?" he demands, his breath reeking of alcohol.
"How much d'you need?"
"€80."
"I've got €60, I'll sort you the rest later," I say, handing him the money.
