Abigail

Chapter seven.

Chapter seven.

"Abby!"

I pushed my headphones off my ear and sat up, my eyes instantly meeting Noah's worried ones. "What's going on?"

"Abby," he breathed heavily, "its dad."

"What do you mean its dad? What's going on?" I asked, frustrated.

"He's... He's... Hospital," Noah gasped.

I frowned. "He's coming to see me?"

"No Abs, he's been admitted. He... He had a stroke." Noah's face was laced with concern and worry, his hands shaking. My face dropped; my stomach dropped. No. No. "I've asked if you can come off ward to go and see him but they said you have to wait until dad is in a proper ward and settled."

"I want to see him now."

"You can't, Abby. Ashton is on his way up and as soon as you can come and see dad, I'll let you know."

"But-"

"He's in the infirmary, you're in the children's hospital, and they're two different departments so it's going to be difficult getting you there."

"But you don't even have to leave the building to get to the infirmary!"

"It's not my decision! Stop stressing at me. I'm going to go and see how he's doing."

"Well it's alright for some, isn't it?" I hissed.

He rolled his eyes and left the room, shutting the door behind him after muttering a 'whatever.'

Day six of chemotherapy and already, there's been extra stress put on me. All I wanted to do was see my father who was also in the hospital. Why was that a big deal? I don't need babysitting for goodness sake.

I spent the best part of half an hour researching strokes and panicking. He could be paralysed. He could have to leave work. His life could be tipped upside down. He could die.

"Abby."

I looked up to see my best friend. "Ashton! Can we go?"

"No, I'm sorry doll," he frowned.

"No? Are you kidding me?" I raised my voice, "Why does nobody care? Why can't I see him? He's my dad for goodness sake!"

Ashton sat on my bed beside me and pulled me into a hug, to which I struggled against. I didn't want to be in his arms; I didn't want comforting. I wanted to see my dad, but he wasn't going to let me. His arms tightened around me. No. I struggled more.

"Abs, it's going to be okay."

"How can you say that?"

"Because it is. Your dad's going to get better and so are-"

"No!" I shouted, cutting him off. "You can't go around saying stuff like that! What if he's not okay? What if I don't respond to treatment? What if we both die? Then what?"

He didn't say anything. Ashton's arms wrapped around me even tighter and he rubbed my back, in attempt to soothe me. Tears ran freely down my cheeks. My eyes closed and I dozed off, in hope that everything would be better when I wake.

I was stood in the middle of a massive corn field, wearing jeans, a t-shirt and my green parka jacket. My hair fell in loose curls, reaching just under my boobs. To my right was an oak tree - a tree house sat comfortably about half way up.

Further down the field, sat Noah and Ashton in a bubble. I took a couple steps closer towards them, intrigued, but I was stopped in my tracks. I was unable to go any further; I was unable to get inside of the bubble. Panic took over. I shouted. I screamed. I cried. But whatever I did, they couldn't hear a word.