Melody

Chapter 3

And so it was decided, I would go to the doctor about the spot on my left shin. Mum and dad would both be there. Ready to restrain me with hugs if ever I got nervous. The appointment had been booked.

3rd July. 2013. Ready. No I wasn't ready, the sheer thought of going to the doctors about the spot was enough to bring me to tears. I stared into the mirror.

Brown hair hanging straight and limp. Barely brushing my elbows. My green eyes reddened with tears, I stared at my reflection. I haven't always been this pathetic. I used to be brave about going to the doctors.

I had a rigorous course of needles because of my allergies when I was younger. I would sit there, waiting for them to prick me with a smile on my face.

That entailed blood tests as well.

I didn't get even remotely scared.

Then the terrible news came.

For as long as I could remember Aunt Lucy had been a staple in my life. I had loved her dearly, she was my mother's sister. She would tell me stories, we would play games, as I grew older we would often just chat. She had a way with words. She would enthrall me with tales of my mother growing up.

They were ever so close.

They would argue quite vehementy on occassion. Yelling and screaming. Yet no sooner than the conflict had been resolved they would be hugging and chatting as if nothing had ever transpired between them .

I would watch Dad's face on these occassions.

He looked perplexed.

Auntie Lucy, was negligent when it came to her health.

Her health was none too good.

When mum had been pregnant with me, Lucy's health was in jeopardy.

She had had simple surgery, yet it failed drastically and came within a hair's breadth of killing her, she made it through, yet longterm health ramifications ensued.

I was never told the full story. I couldn't really harbor any animosity on that point however, who would tell a young child such horrific storeis. And afterall I discovered the truth eventually.

Auntie Lucy and I were like two peas in a pod.

Like we were sisters.

She was like a sibling to me. I liked being an only child. I am quite an introverted person, so the solitude suits me. I love my parents with all my heart.

A common misconception about only children is that we are spoiled.

We are not spoiled.

Rather we have come accustomed to being alone. We have acute imaginations, we can entertain ourselves, we are not so very proficient at interactions between youth of our age, yet one can make small talk with adults all too easily. Well that was true for me at least. I'm not sure about the rest of us. 

But back to Aunt Lucy,

It was a day like any other, Dad had arrived home, looking weary, yet ready for a chat. He sank into the cushy armchair in my room and we were engrossed in conversation about some new scientific finding.

The phone sounded.I could hear mum answering the phone and thought nothing of it.

Dad and I continued our conversation.

10 or so minutes had passed.

A choked voice called for my dad, he leapt out of his chair, heading towards the kitchen, he gestured for me to stay where I was.

What felt as if it were an eternity passed.

Curious, I headed through. (It may seem as if I were a bit dim-witted, yet I was only 9 at the time)

It was there that I found Mum, tears pouring down her face, in dads arms.

He explained to me what had happened.

I gasped.