Magic isn’t real - everybody knows that, right? I mean, we’ve all had some point in our lives when we thought Magic was real. Perhaps when blowing out a birthday candle, or waiting tirelessly at the door for Santa to come. But I have a story - a story that can prove magic is real, but in a different form. It was December, and frost covered every inch of our home. Mum came walking through the door, clutching two mugs of hot chocolate. “Cheers,” she said, and we gulped it down. It felt warm and cozy in my stomach. “How’s school?” Mum asks “Horrible,” I groan back at her. We sit in silence for a while, and the only noises that could be heard was the clinking of mugs hitting teeth and a soft breeze. “Right,” mum says, after a while. “I’m going out to get some food for you,” “NO!” I shout. “You’ve got asthma, mum, you can’t go out in weather like this!” Mum’s had serious asthma since she was nine, and she still has it now. Because of that, she can’t work, run, or go shopping. So she opens an online store, exercises with her arms s l o w l y, and hires Jim or gran to pick up food. But Jim was late for his shift, and gran was on holiday. We sit in yet more silence, and mum finally gets up, pulling on her jacket. “I’m going, Lily, and you can’t stop me. I’m not starving my daughter!” “No!” I say, getting up, but mum was already out of the door. I sit back down, drinking the rest of my hot chocolate, but it tasted like cardboard now. An hour passes, and mum still doesn’t come. I’m worried for her, and spend most of the time pacing across the room, waiting for her. There was a sudden creak as the door opened, and I flew towards it. “Mum!” I cried. But it was only Jim. He looked baffled, and asked “where’s ya mother, kiddy?” I gloomily explained. “Well, ‘ere’s ya food lovey, find ya mother soon,” He answered, handing me some tomato soup. I took it and waited, waited, waited. “Honey! Lily!” Mum’s voice called. I leapt out of my slumber and snuggled in mum’s arms. “Mum!” But something was wrong. Her face was pale, and her breaths came in short wisps. “Mu —?” She collapsed onto a huge bundle on the floor. I screamed. Some of our neighbors ran out, and one of them called an ambulance. I just kneeled there beside mum, stroking her lovely long hair, crying silently through the chaos. Mum was now lying still on a hospital bed, all sorts of things plugged into her. She looked like a ghost, lying stilly on a bed in light, white hospital clothes that smelled ghastly. “Is she ok?” I stammered to the doctors. One of them turned towards me. “I - I think you’d better come out kiddo,” “But-!” They hustled me out. Four o clock. Five o clock. Time passed like trickles of water with me knowing nothing about mum. I counted sheep, bid prayers, and all sorts of things - yet the horrible thought would creep back to me every so often, and I’d try hard to squeeze it out, it couldn’t be, no, no... The doctors burst out. They looked tired, and fallen. They looked at me with round eyes, sweaty arms clasped behind their back. “She’s...gone,” “NOOOOOO!” I shrieked. “No! She can’t be, my mother, she’s alive, I tell you, please! D-do some more checkups! Anything! Please!” “We can’t-“ “Lily!” Yelled a voice. “Lily!” I turn around and see mum. She’s wearing a billowing white gown, and her hair is golden and wavy, topped with a shiny silver halo on top. I see the doctors far down, checking my body, heads hung down, far away, like a distant dream “I Iove you mum”
