Heh thankyou, again :]
*trig* yada.
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March 15th 2007
06:24
Rosie awoke to the sound of retching and, wrapping her dressing gown around her, walked down the corridor to the door of the bathroom and knocked. To no reply she entered the bathroom to find her father kneeling in front of the white bowl, vomiting up anything his stomach had once contained. Collecting a glass of water from the sink above his head, she handed it to him and knelt beside the man she once looked up to, rubbing his back in a circular motion.
“Thanx Rose.” He managed to muster in between retching, “I really appreciate this, I’m really sorry, it was just a normal night down the pub, I don’t know why I’m like this, must’ve been something I ate…” the man trailed off as his daughter stood up suddenly.
“Something you ate? Something you ate?” Rosie was suddenly seething, “in case you hadn’t noticed dad, everything coming up into that porcelain bowl there is liquid, the only solids in there are likely from your breakfast yesterday. Don’t you dare try and mug me off with the “something you ate” story again. I’m not ****ing seven anymore, Dad. Lets not pretend any longer.” With that she stormed from the bathroom and back to her room. He forgot for another year because he was too wasted to remember anything. Well lucky him, she thought, pulling back the sleeve of her top and unwinding the bandages, at least one of us is allowed to forget. As she replaced the blade over the gashes one by one, reopening the wounds, she concentrated solely on the task in front of her. Her mind was free from anything that once consumed it in these few spare moments. All she had to think of was the blade slicing healing line after healing line of her arm, nothing else had to matter then. Once satisfied that every lesion was once again bleeding sufficiently she held the used bandage to her arm to stem the flow slightly, and redressed her aching limb…
March 23rd 1997
14:02
The girl cried out. She was lying in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the stairs after falling for the last two. Though sustaining no further injuries than a slight carpet burn she still cried out to her father to help her.
“What is it darling?”
Her dad made his way to her slowly, stumbling down the stairs slightly himself too until he reached the bottom and her.
“What’s wrong?”
“My knee, daddy, it’s all red and all the skins coming off, look!” The girl pointed to the slight wound on her knee.
“Now lets seeee what we can do about this” her Dad replied.
He attemped to lift his daughter in his arms but consequently ended up falling himself.
“Oopsie-daisy! Now there’s two injured people we have here!” he laughed as his daughter stared at him.
“Are you okay, daddy?”
“Yes, yes I’m fiiiiine sweetheart! Now lets zee to that knee shall we!” He got up slowly and walked to the kitchen cabinet.
“Now whereee can we find something to make that knee allllllll better?” he slurred.
“Daddy, mummy keeps the plasters in the bathroom cabinet…” the girl said almost hesitantly.
“Mummy USED to keep the plasters in the cabinet, Rosie. Mummy’s not here anymore. It’s just me” he snapped. He watched as his daughter’s eyes widened, and she dissolved into a fresh wave of tears, running up to her room as she did so.
He stood there for a few minutes, contemplating what to do. Cathy would have known what to do, he thought. But Cathy’s not here anymore. She thought it best to leave me here to do this on my own instead, what right way is there to bring up a child? He felt his eyes pricking as thoughts of his wife flooded his head, and he reached up to the cabinet behind him for another bottle of forget-her-not…
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