Abigail

Chapter ten.

Chapter ten.

Have you ever been in that state of confusion when you first wake up and there are increasingly loud voices surrounding you? Have you ever woken up to your family having a shouting match, for some reason unknown to yourself? Have you ever...?

You, my friend, are very lucky if this is not the case. Oh how I would have loved to go back to sleep but no, my family had other ideas. Why they insisted on arguing in my hospital room was beyond me. How inconsiderate can you get? Don't answer that.

"But mother, that's not safe! We didn't tell her she missed New Year for a reason, so why would we take her out to see fireworks and stuff as a makeup celebration? Can you imagine how upset she'd be when we tell her that it's the second of January and not only did she miss Christmas, but New Year too?" Noah stressed, pacing up and down.

I didn't really process what he was saying because I was too busy focusing on my mother's voice. "Noah, she's not a stupid girl. Just because she's sick doesn't mean that she hasn't realised she's missed New Years. She'd find out eventually anyway! What's so bad about taking her out to celebrate?"

"Uh, maybe the fact that she has leukaemia and she has restrictions on where she can go and what she can do? Or do you just simply not care?" He hissed.

"Noah-"

"Shut up," I groaned, holding my head. I didn't sleep well last night for some reason and the fact that I had awoken to Noah and mum fighting, didn't really help. I had a headache and was feeling quite sick.

"How much of that did you hear?" Noah asked me, his eyes laced with worry. He was worried that I'd pick up on the fact that he had slipped up; worried that I might freak out because I've missed my two favourite holidays of the year.

"Enough to know that it is the 2nd January today," I mumbled.

Noah shot a very... nasty look towards mum whom simply rolled her eyes at him. I had to feel sorry for mum in a way. I mean, she was trying to share her time equally between her dying daughter and her comatose husband. Mum's a very strong woman but even though it may seem that she is coping well with it, her eyes have become duller and she had started to form wrinkles. She was stressed and worried.

"I just wanted to take you out, sweetie, to make up for what you've missed. Maybe a shopping spree or to see a film or a play you've been wanting to watch?" She suggested, hopefully.

I frowned. Didn't she realise that I was still going through chemotherapy? That I still have drugs pumping around my body and will do for today and tomorrow? Didn't she realise how sick I was? That they hospital didn't even want me to travel to another ward? Did she even care?

"Mum..." I trailed off, not knowing how to put it. I mean, mum has a lot on her plate at the moment so I guess it could kind of be excused. But, then again, she did stay by my side two years ago during chemotherapy, so she must remember that I wasn't allowed to leave my ward.

"She's still got drugs going through her body, mum. How's she going to go out?" He taunted, belittling her.

Her whole attitude changed. Her happy-go-lucky personality went out of the window, allowing Noah and I to see how she was really feeling. It was then that I noticed that her hair was all out of place and her makeup was slightly patchy - not that I'd ever tell her. She wore a black jumper that she bought years ago and some jeans that were ripped and frayed at the bottom. On her feet, she wore her oldest UGG boots. Just from her appearance, I could tell that mum, in fact, was not coping.

She never left the house without her makeup and hair in place, wearing the nicest clothes she owned. I noticed that she was shaking slightly with nerves, appearing that she was trying her hardest in order to not mess up. Her body was slumped compared to her normal, perfect posture. And, her voice wavered as she spoke; "I'm sorry."