Golden Birds

Chapter one

I have never been happy at 4 am.

As every room seems to wrap itself around you, like when a dog's mouth grips around a rubber toy; and how everything seems to have had its colour drianed away. Then all you are left with is an emptiness, a black void of negitative vibes. There is nothing to put a smile upon your face, no light bar the flickers given off the old night light, no noise not even from rowdy neighbours having a late night, no warmth just a crisp morning air to surround you, nipping away at your bare skin. How anyone could be awake at this time out of choice is unimaginable; it's completely lifeless.

But I was awake. And that was the problem.

You are probably wondering, if I despise everything about 4 am; why was I awake? Well I had no choice, my mind was at full speed powering away, worrying about every little thing that you could possibly imagine, espically given my circumstances. My brunette hair was sprawled across my pillow, my pyjamas hugged tight to my body and my quilt lay softly over me. I picked my phone up, which sat motionless on my bedside table; switched it on to read the time: 4:02, barely minute had past since I last checked. And yes, I knew quiet rightly, that checking my phone every second would 1. not help me get to sleep or 2. would not make time go faster. But how could one sleep if a beloved family member lay ill in a hospital over 45 miles away.

I eventually dozed off at some point between 4:30-5:00 am, unware of what the precise time was.

When I woke the next morning, the light poured through my wooden window, almost blinding me however having the light fill my room was more comforting then the dark, stillness of 4 am. I lay stationary for a while, monitoring all the noises around me; the little birds in the tree outside the white window in the hall, my dad discussing business over the phone, the constant click of my bedside clock, the Tuesday morning bin lorry and my brother rushing around searching for a tie or something. My brother and mornings never go well. But I couldn't go to school today, I was stuck to my bed, like a helpless turtle on his back.

Knock! Knock!

My door flung open, my dad stood in the door way with my brother;
"Oh, Kayla. Your mum will be ok."

Silence filled the air; as I tossed away from the door I pulled my blanket up over my shoulders.

"Kayla, your mum's strong."

Still I didn't reply, I was just waiting for what I wanted to her.

"Look. Kayla, if you don't want to go to school today, I am sure everyone will understand." My dad said and turned away. "I will call your school."  As he walked away I turned over again and lay there thinking. He said what I wanted him to say but it didn't make me feel better.

As I trudged down the stairs my eyes met the ruffled chestnut blonde hair of my dad and the midnight black hair, neatly pulled into two French braids, of Dakota. My jaw dropped in shock, her dark brown/black eyes dazzled in the sun, her tender milky chocolate brown skin shone and her hair stood out a mile. You could never miss my best friend even if you tried. Dakota gave me a warm smile, her teeth were like pearls so neatly placed, that you could almost feel her sympathy. No one said anything we just both sat around the table; my dad placed a bowl of cereal in front of me and told me to eat. I fiddled with the spoon, this was normal now; my mum regularly got admitted back to hospital it was basically her second home.

You probably wonder what is wrong with my mum, well it all started when I was 14. She fell sick one even, though instead of getting better after a few days the symptoms got more severe, infact so severe that in the night, three days after she started feeling queasy, my dad had to get an ambulance. The doctors told us she had breast cancer. Life seemed to stop.

Aged 15, nothing changed much, bar little things like my mum's gorgeous hazelnut brown hair fell out in clumps due to keno therapy. And her charming, lovingly hazel eyes were so droopy; you could quite obviously see she was unwell.

~•~

Dakota sat were my mum use to sit, all was so quiet that you could hear the clicking of the kitchen clock. The time read 9:32, normally we would have both been in period one- maths with Mr Canenbel. I was finally able to put my thoughts into words again; "Shouldn't you be in school right now?" I said gazing at her in confusion.

"Why would I be at school, my best friend needs me. Plus I told Lizzie to collect any work you and I miss, you can't get away with missing work that easily!" she stated, her smile still beaming towards me. I gave her a short, quick, uncertain smile back. "Your dad told my mum." she carried on.

We adventured up to my room, shortly after I finished eating, were we both sat on the bed, eyes glued to our phones. It was about midday before we both drew our eyes away from the small lcd lit screens. The sun, at it's highest point of the day, filled the room entirely of golden light, everything sparkled; it was almost magical- but even that didn't put a smile upon my face. It being midday, my dad brought us both up: a cheese sandwich- with a packed of lightly salted walker's crisps and a bowl of fruit to share. We both sat in silence picking at the food, Dakota finished her sandwich and crisps before I did. My dad came back in holding two glasses of water; "Everything alright?"

"Yes, everything ok. Thx dad."

"Right, ok. Good." And he left the room.

~•~

That evening, when Dakota had left, we (me, my dad and my brother) were sat around our dinning table eating my dad's equivalent of my mum's toad-in-a-hole, when the phone rang; me and my brother exchanged looks of concern as my dad walked out into the hall. The atmosphere had changed when he came back in, it wasn't peaceful or content anymore, it was tense and unpleasant. My dad looked so serious but he just sat back down without a word and carried on eating. After we all finished he didn't offer puddings like he normally would, he just said that 'we are all going to the hospital to see mum' and that was it, he walked out to the car and waited.

The street lights shone a yellow light as though they were trying to mimic the suns golden glow; the traffic jammed most roads causing the air to be cloggy and warm. My dad turned the music up high drowning the noise of the traffic; a green, white and red lorry pulled up behind us, headlights on full blinding all who dare try and look at it. You could faintly her other drivers get impatient and taking it out on the horn. The city had so much electricity at night, from the bright lights and vehicles to the pedestrians rushing along the pavement.

~•~

The hospital was hive of sick people and white lights, and the unforgettable smell, that would linger on you for days after, filled every crack. My mum was on the second floor, in a section called 'Inpatients B'; it was crammed with nurses rushing round, the hallway was like one out a horror movie as the end light flickered and the walls were a pale creamy blue.

My mum lay in a white bed dressed in a blue checkered gown, she looked so peaceful and comfortable for once- it was almost like she wasn't my mum as though what ever the nurses were doing was picking my mum slowly apart, piece by piece. My dad was knelt next to my mum, clasping her hand between his, he murmured a few words into mum's ear: 'You, we, can get through this, sweetie. Just keep on fighting, Martha, I believe in you.' At that point a doctor walked through the door, she was going on about mum's well being and how she thinks that mum should stay as a inpatient, well until she was stronger- but really that was highly unlikely. I walked over to a red leather arm chair in the far corner and slouched myself into it, as if to say 'why are we her, she isn't even awke'. The doctor's voice suddenly went quieter, so that I couldn't hear anything, she had a very serious face on now and she looked as if she was worrying dad.

On the drive home everything was dead, the electricity of the city had drained away leaving an outline of dark buildings and empty streets. Looking into the front of the car I stared at the screen; the time read: 2:49 am- no school for vaughn or me tommorrow- my brian thought. By the end of ride home it was about 3:30 am and my hair which had been in a neat pony tail was now a floppy birds nest; my brother, Vaughn, who normally had scruffy chocolate colour hair had made an effort to comb it back before we had visited mum now looked like he had been to the beach.

I was still awake by 4 am.

And I hated it.