Chapter Thirty-Five

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In the morning I'm slightly disorientated. Make that very. I squint through blurry eyes. Huh? It looks like a washing machine... I rub the sleep out of my eyes so I can actually see. I'm layed out across the backseat of a car, Phoebe next to me. I can tell I haven't been in this position all night because of the slight cramp in my arm.

The first intelligent thought I have is, Mike and Layla are going to be worried. I check the clock on the dash, it reads six-thirty. I've slept through all of yesterday afternoon and night. I don't want to wake Phoebe but I don't really want to leave her here alone either, I debate whether to wake her. Then I notice a note on the dash.

Got your number from the hospital and informed your parents that you would be gone until today. That Mike guy seemed real nice. We're in the Maternity ward room 26. We'll give you a lift back.

A wave of confusion hits me and I sit staring at the note for a while before I understand. They called Mike and thought he was my father! To me the difference between the two is so great. Mike is nice, he cares. Which is more than I can for my father. Its why I didn't immeddiatly see the mistake. I breifly wonder how they got the number, before deciding it doesn't matter.

 I climb into the passanger seat, unwilling to go out into the cool morning air. I then pull down the sun viser and look in the mirror. My hair is surprisingly tame for a change. Curls still bounce around my face but it looks nice. I'm still dressed as a fairy and everytime I move the silver sparkles glitter brightly.

A wave of sadness washes over me as I remember what happend to the crown of the costume. I feel so guilty for just leaving her there, at the side of the road. I try not to think to much of the details and surprisingly, it works. I think I dropped the wand so I could cover Phoebes eyes. But my skirt, wings and glitter I'm still wearing.

I begin to take of my wings before a hand stops me. I jump slighlty at the touch, I didn't hear Phoebe stir. "Leave them, there pretty. Can we see the baby?"

I reach over and ruffle her curls. "Sure thing." I answer softly. I open the car door and a wave of refreshing cool air gushes into the car. I hop out quickly and close the car door harder than nessacary.  

Upon reaching the materninty ward it's a simple matter to find the correct room. The bland walls remind me of the nursing home I frequent. I correct myself. The nursing home I used to frequent. Now that grandmothers gone I don't see any reason why I should want to go back. The only thing it offers for me now is sad memories. I push open the hospital door and the first sound I'm greeted with is the crying of a baby. I smile at the sight of Marie tutting as Steve awkwardly holds the baby. Steve complains playfully "I don't see you doing much better!" Marie blushes bright red.

I walk over and hold out my arms for baby Asha. Steve gratefully hands her to me. I cradle her head gently and rock her back and forth. "Hi Asha. How you doing?" I whisper. I think its strange how people coo at babies. There still people, if only tiny ones. Her crying hushes as she looks at me curiously, her large brown eyes absorbing information.

I hand her to Phoebe but Marie immeditly snatches Asha from her. The baby begins to wail. Phoebe frowns in confusion. Marie rocks her absentmindedly as she scolds me "She's only a kid! She might drop her."

"How old do you think I am?" I ask curiously my head tilted to the side.

She shrugs "Old enough to hold a baby."

"Phoebe won't drop her." I assure.

 Marie hesitantly hands over the baby. Phoebe holds her and watches as the baby scrunches up her face, about to cry. However something Phoebe does makes her face smooth out into an almost smile. Then she gives the baby to Marie.

"I think there letting me out today. Why don't you girls go get something to eat?" Marie asks holding out a note.

I shake my head unwilling to take her money. Steve however has no objections as he whips the money from her hand and drags us after him. "Lets eat!" Phoebe races after him. I'm not hungry so I sit on the end of the bed listlessly.

When Marie is finally discharged from hospital we get into the car. Most of the way back I gaze out of the window. When the car pulls up we exchange numbers. Inside the house we're asked curious questions. So I tell Phoebe to go upstairs and tell them the story from start to finish.

The moment I've finished speaking Layla announces "I'm going to the police station to..." She trails off unwilling to say it aloud. I nod, my toungue like sandpaper. I feel so guilty I just left grandmother there.   

I tilt my head back and appologise mentally to the celing. Unsurprisingly no answer greets me. I imagine grandmother tutting while she looks down on me from heaven. I hope that the streets of gold are twenty-four carats like the bible states because if there not I feel sorry for all those who must endure her wrath.

I smile happily. But a worring thought passes my mind. Police are going to be involved in this mess which means my secret might just come out. They'll send me back or even worse, send me away.

Mike must have seen the look on my face because he reasures me softly "They won't find out."

I look at him "But what if they do? They'll send me back Mike. Then if they find out about why..."

Mike looks to me concerned "Emma. What happend?"

I know he's asking for my end of the bargin. He tells me his story, I'll tell him mine. So I take a deep breath "My mother got drunk one night and ended up with me. I wasn't supposed to happen, she was still young, only seventeen. 

About two years later they met up again. Mother was head over heels, and father loved her too. They got married and Phoebe was born. Phoebe was everything father ever wanted. I wasn't. They were going to adopt me and then they could be one big happy family. But Phoebe wouldn't let them.

So instead father left. Mother was prescribed pills but she mixed them with alcohol. The side effects were..." I grimance at the thought of the side effects. "Bad."

"Then when Phoebe was two and I was six he came back. She was so happy. So so happy." I remember that time. She was over the moon, she stopped the alcohol and the pills, for him. But she never stopped for me, never for me.

"I was still there biggest problem, father didn't want me. This time it didn't matter about Phoebe. He sent her with me. We went into care for a few months. Except we were split up."

Mike eyes widen as he tries to imagine Phoebe without me, and vica versa. "Was Phoebe okay?"

I snort "No. Neither was I. Imagine worrying about someone twenty-four seven and never being able to see them once. They gave me pills for who knows what but I wouldn't take them."

Mike asks in a whisper. "Because of what they did to your mother?"

I nod. "Father left and then mother wanted us back. Somehow she regained full custody. Then she started drinking again. She was put back on the pills. Thats when she started to hit me." 

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