3,471 Miles [Undergoing Editing]

Thirty Two- I Picked Well.

My dad got over the tattoo, well sort of. He wouldn't have anything to do with it, he wouldn't look at it, speak about it, he wouldn't even listen to the meaning behind it, which was frustrating.

On Monday night I had set my alarm for half eight, determined to wake up early and spend some quality with my dad before I left. But my body had other idea's.

At six thirty, I woke up frantically distressed because I wasn't able to breath. The sun hadn't even awoke yet, so I flicked on the light beside my bed and nearly had a heart attack when I glanced down.

My clothes, duvet and pillow was covered in bright, red, blood? My nose was pouring so heavily that I thought I was going to pass out from blood loss.

I jumped out of bed, coughing and choking the blood out of my throat, gasping for air. It literally felt as if someone had spun the the top of a tap full blast.

I sprinted to the bathroom, slammed the door and locked it. If my dad woke up and saw me, there was no way on this earth that he'd let me go back to New York, no way.

I held my hand over my nose to try and suppress the blood flow whilst I frantically searched the bathroom for something, anything to stop the bleeding.

"Rhiannon?" I heard my dad yell as his bedroom door opened, "What are you doing up?"

Crap. I pulled a towel from the rack and sat on the toilet, leaning my head forward so I wouldn't choke on my blood again.

"I'm just, I'm just showering!" I replied as I turned the taps on.

"At this time?" His voice grew closer and I heard him gasp, "Rhiannon Megan Lewis, open this door right now. Why is there a trail of blood coming from your room?"

Double crap. I sighed and stood up, flicking the lock on the door. My dads face was mortified. He quickly ran to his room and grabbed his phone.

"Hi, yes, can I have an ambulance please." He said, making his way back to me as I sat back down on the toilet seat lid.

The blood had soaked through the towel and started to form a puddle at my feet. How long could humans actually bleed for without dying? Surely I was close to acceding that.

After my dad told the ambulance what had happened and gave him our address, he hung up and gave me a stern look.

"What's wrong with you Rhi, why wouldn't you wake me up?" He said as he removed the towel and gave me a fresh one.

"Because," I sighed through the towel, "I knew you'd over react and freak out, I don't want you stop me going back."

"Are you surprised? Look at you!" He yelled, clearly frustrated. His eyes were huge and his posture was stiff.

After ten minutes, the ambulance arrived and rushed me to hospital. In my opinion, they were being complete drama queens. It was a nose bleed for Christ sake.

"Have you got any medical conditions?" The nurse asked as I was brought into the accident and emergency ward.

"I, erm, yeah l, Kind of." I stuttered, not quite sure how to put it. I looked to my dad for help, who still hadn't lost that panicky look in his eyes.

"She has leukaemia." He sighed as I was wheeled into a room. A wheelchair was completely unnecessary, I hadn't lost the use of my legs.

"Actually, I don't think I do have leukaemia. There's a one percent chance I don't have it. So I'm holding onto that. I live in New York, we'll as from tomorrow I do. So all my tests and what nots are going on over there as we speak." I stated.