𝙉𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙢𝙥𝙩𝙤𝙣

The annoying sound of the alarm clock resonated around the room. I stuck my hand out from under the duvet to turn it off, missing the button a few times until the beeping eventually stopped.

"Erika?" The familiar deep tone of his voice captured my interest.

I slipped off the sleeping mask and switched on the light, blinding us both. "Dad?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." He propped himself up in the Deepdale chair. "You looked so peaceful, and the doctor said you needed extra rest. I hear you've been sleeping a lot more." He stood up and stretched his legs, indicating he had been sitting there for some time.

The digital clock read '07:15 a.m.' Once again, the hours slipped through my fingers, unable to register my whereabouts for the gap in time.

Pulling my legs up to my chest, I traced my finger across the floral design on my satin pyjama trouser. The word 'Forever' printed sporadically across the teal blue fabric meant nothing under my fingertip. "Well, you know what they say, 'Time flies when you're having fun.'"

"The doctor mentioned there were classes to keep you occupied while you're here." He perched on the edge of the bed; one side sunk with his weight. He wasn't overweight, but he didn't have a six-pack either, more of a slight Dad-bod instead.

I wonder what sessions are on today. Yoga? Cross-stitching? Origami?

"Yeah, Dad. I don't think knitting is my thing." I fluffed up the pillows, allowing more room for him to shuffle over.

His grey v-neck jumper looked snug as the collar of his white shirt stuck out untidily. He usually wore a tie when he was at work, but being a private investigator had him working around the clock. When he had hours to spare, he would yank his tie from around his neck or loosen it so it would hang down his chest.

"Hey, don't knock it until you've tried it. You could make Cuddles a jumper." Dad grinned, showing his humorous side. "At least Mr Cuddles is having fun." He pointed to the bear who had fallen face-first off the pillow and onto the duvet. "He does know that's underage drinking, right?"

"Very funny." I rolled my eyes at his goofiness and propped Cuddles up against the stack of pillows. No matter where I was, Dad always made me feel at home, and he did that with little effort.

His expression wavered a little as if he was searching for the right words. "We wanted to visit yesterday afternoon, but the nurse said you were sleeping."

We? Is she thinking of visiting?

I licked my lips and glanced towards the door. "Where is she because I don't see her?"

Dad didn't have to explain as I knew she had made an excuse to avoid the situation, which was her usual routine.

Whenever situations arose, Mum turned to alcohol to drown her sorrows, stumbling up the stairs like a naughty schoolgirl. Or the time when she had too much to drink and dropped her house keys down the drain, pleading through the letterbox for Dad to let her in.

I missed the mother who used to help me bake cakes and let me lick the chocolate batter off the spoon. She would sing to the radio and dance around the kitchen, fetching the ingredients. I didn't know how things changed, but one glass of wine a night turned into two, and nighttime drinking became a daytime habit. The more attention she paid to alcohol, the less time she spent with me.

My parents weren't best suited, surprised that they lasted this long. A person can only tolerate a certain amount, and I wasn't sure when my dad would finally cave in.

The dark circles under his eyes exaggerated the lack of sleep from my mother's late-night binging. "She didn't take the news well, kiddo."

That doesn't surprise me. Finding out your only child has cancer can do that to you.

I chewed on my bottom lip, knowing another breakdown was on the horizon, and I was the reason. She was the same, regardless of the circumstance. When times were tough, and she couldn't cope, she turned to booze.

Dad sighed heavily, scratching the light stubble on his worn-out face. "You're not to worry about her, Erika. You must focus on getting better first. Besides, who knows, maybe you will make friends here and won't want to come home." He tried lightening the mood, making the best of a bad situation.

The last thing I want is to make friends here. I have Cassie, and she is more than enough.

Having been out of school for a little over a week, I was afraid of the possible outcome of Cassie making new friendships while I was out of the picture.

We're best friends, but who's to say she can't have another friend?

My fingers longed for a distraction, anything to keep my mind busy from the time dimensional stuff and my diagnosis. "How's Cassie? Have you spoken to her?" My chest tightened from the mention of her name as the air around us became dense.

"I called Akio and Ingrid last night to tell them the news. Cassie will visit one day in the week," Dad replied.

I wrapped a short strand of my hair around my finger. "You know, I could still go to school and have chemo at home. Or what about homeschooling?"

"Erika, you know I can't commit to homeschooling, especially with my work hours," he replied. Since he did the cooking and picked me up from drama club after school twice a week, Dad was already pushed for time.

"Mid-term exams start in less than three weeks. We have a drama presentation for the mid-term production at the end of the month, and it's a scripted performance worth twenty percent of my final grade." I bit my lip in frustration as I had no say in the matter, but my grades would suffer from the result.

He cleared his throat and rubbed the nape of his neck. The palm of his hand briefly brushed the back of his head, smoothing down his stray hairs. "The teachers will give you notes on everything you've missed, and I will speak to Mr Hannagan about doing a virtual presentation instead."

Great. It's a damn struggle trying to decipher Mrs Moreno's handwriting. Her b's look like p's.

"When will I be able to get my phone back?" I unravelled the strand coiled around my finger, releasing a kink in my hair.

Dad rubbed his forehead with his thumb. An action he tended to do when he tried to remember things or when he was nervous. "Look, it's the Hospital's policies, not ours. When you come home for rest, you can have your phone back, but while you're here, you need to abide by the rules."

"It won't be for that long. You will be out in no time." He patted my knee like he used to do when I was five. Usually, his touch brought comfort in dire situations, but I hated how this was getting out of hand. I was no longer in control of my life.

Temporary, right.

A nurse entered, wearing the standard blue uniform with a pocket watch clipped to the seam. "I'm sorry, Mr Smith, but visiting times are over. Erika should rest before chemo." Her cheerful, chirpy tone lit up the dull room as her curls bounced back and forth with the movements of her hips.

Dad nodded and picked up his navy peacoat from the chair, sliding his arms through the sleeves. "Right, that's my cue to leave. I will be back soon, kiddo. Stay strong." He kissed the top of my head as I struggled to hold back the tears, not wanting to face chemo alone.

His breath tickled the inside of my ear, but his words were cold. Those words changed everything.

A/N

Word Count: 1,326

What do you think the words could be?

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