Thirty Days: Part One Read Online Free PDF

sobbed into her ear.
    A minute later she was gone, and I died along with her. Everything that belonged to that part of my life was extinct now.
    ***
    A single tear slides down my cheek. Hurried hands wipe it away and no more follow. Parvo virus took her life. Parvo virus took her from me.
    “I need you, girl. Life is not fair. I’m sorry I’m cursed.” I lie down on the couch and pull my mother’s blanket to my chin. “Bella.”
    ***
    I’m awakened by something tickling my cheek. “Baby girl,” I say, half asleep.
    “No, petal, it’s me.”
    “Mum?”
    “Yes, sweetheart.”
    Grabbing her arm, she topples on top of me. My arms wrap around her tightly. “I love you, Mum.”
    “Oh, Abigail. I love you, too.”
    I’m scared to let her go, but I release my hold.
    “Do you want to talk about it?” She smiles a half-smile. The look in her eyes tells me she needed to hear me say those words. I can’t actually remember the last time I told her I loved her.
    “No, thank you.”
    “How long have you been asleep on the couch?”
    “That would depend on what time it is.” We both laugh, I’m not sure why. “I’m going to my room, okay?” I begin to feel foolish and embarrassed.
    “Okay,” she whispers as an unsuspecting tear streams down her face.
    “Mum?”
    “Run along, petal.” She turns away from me, hiding her face.

Intervention
    Déjà vu wakes me with the sound of an air horn blasting. My body jolts upright as the door bangs against the wall.
    “Sammy, fuck off!” I yell. She laughs. Cow . “Why are you here?”
    “Would you believe it’s because I missed you?”
    “Would I believe it’s because you like to torture me.” She laughs harder. “You’re evil,” I say, flipping her the bird. She just winks at me. Her flawless makeup and black dress suit that shows off her curves annoy me. My infuriation increases. “No lunch. No water tipping. No nothing,” I state firmly.
    “Good, because that’s not why I’m here. Just making sure you’re going to be at Trish’s tonight. You promised.”
    “I said I would. Now leave.”
    “Good.” She walks over to the bed and bends down towards my face. “Sleep tight, Dorothy.” She squeezes my cheeks together.
    “Ouch! Fuck off, Ginger.”
    “Big baby,” she teases.
    I throw my pillow at her, but it misses.
    “See you tonight.”
    The door closes. Her giggling lingers.
    I hate Sammy.
    ***
    Walking out to the road, Mum asks how I plan on getting home tonight. She has to work the nightshift again. Why she works so much is beyond me. Dad’s life insurance covered everything we’d need.
    “Taxi or something,” is my initial response. But she shakes her head and purses that damn mouth of hers. “Someone will probably give me a lift, Mum. Don’t stress about it.”
    “Please don’t drink too much, Abigail.”
    “M...U...M!”
    “I worry.”
    “You never worry, shut up,” I say, climbing into the Gecko car. It’s a Ford Festiva that is green in colour. Somehow it got that nickname. How, I’m unsure. “Trish’s house is not far. I can probably walk home if it comes to that.” I shrug, turning up the volume of the radio so Mum stops talking.
    “You look pretty, petal.”
    “Whatever. I’m only wearing an everyday dress, nothing spectacular.”
    “Well, I like the green on you. It’s pretty against your eyes.” She stares blankly at me.
    “Watch the road, will you?” My hands shelter my face in pretence of a likely car wreck.
    “Really, Abigail?” she tuts, annoyed.
    “What?”
    “You know your eyes are just like your father’s?”
    “Yes, I know. Mum, stop talking.”
    She does.
    We pull up outside Trish’s. It’s a three-storey monstrosity. Trish comes from money…a lot of money. She’s also marrying into wealth. Her dad is a big time solicitor, her mum a paediatrician, and she has grown up and become some sort of shopper. No, seriously, she is an interior designer, I think. Trish spends most of her days shopping