Alix finds herself without her mother on her birthday; though, hope isn't all lost.

(At the moment, this story preview does not have any formatting – this means character thoughts aren't differentiated from plain text.)

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Hey Kiddo, How Are You Doing?

“Finally, after almost eight days of fights on the streets, buildings being lit on fire and roads being blocked, protestant crowds have dissolved. Police have made countless arrests and issued double that in fines--”
“Police have put a stop to the violent protests that have raged through the inner-city, stopping any traffic in their path and injuring thirty-seven people. However, two young police officers have also given their lives in order to protect our city. They--”
“--has really been a hard time for our police stations, we’ve had to call in more officers from nearby towns and cities. It is absolutely vile and it saddens me that--”
“Many of the called-in officers are now able to return home after eight gruelling nights of brutal and aggressive protests. Back to you, Sar--”
The small girl slumps further into the leather couch and breathes a heavy sigh. She mutes the television, not wanting to hear any more. She’s been waiting for her mother to come back since the start of the protests; every night she watches the news, hoping she doesn’t hear her mother’s name. Not out of spite, but she fears for her mother.
Though, a petite smile begins to grow across her face. She won’t have to watch the news or hope she doesn’t see her mother in a list of those injured. The little girl rises from the couch in excitement of this realisation, Mum is coming home.
Suddenly, she instinctively jumps half her height in the air; however, no longer in enthusiasm. Three knocks in series sound obnoxiously from the door. With a haste sequence of stifled thuds over carpet, she reaches the door and unlocks it with subconscious precision. The slim and relatively tall figure of a man is revealed by the thick, interior wooden door. “Hello, Reggie.” The girl says with tonal indifference.
“Hi, Alix. How are you this afternoon? What have you been up to?” He makes sure he locks the doors behind him once he enters the house, placing an empathetic hand on Alix’s shoulder.
“I’ve been... just watching Tv.” He gives a dubious look from the corner of his eye, and walks a little faster into the living room.
“Alix...” Thoughts begin to race in his mind. He wants to tell her not to watch the news all the time, it can easily develop grief and disconnection from other things. But, is it right to do that? He wonders. To not allow her to know what’s going on with her mother.
Alix quickly pointed to the television, still flashing in different colours from the other news specials, with a large grin on her face. “The man on the Tv said that all the policies are coming home! Does that mean Mum will still be here for my birthday?”
Reginald slowly looks down to her, pain shines in his eyes for a second. Again, there are so many different things he wants to tell her, but he doesn’t know

which one he should. “I’m sorry, Alix. I don’t think she would get home in time. You might just have to settle for the phone call.” He looks down softly at her, watching as she stands silently with watery eyes.
By reflex, Reginald bends down and wraps his arms around the little girl. She quickly locks her around his waist, but – much to his surprise – she doesn’t begin to cry. Alix’s grip loosens, so he takes hold of her shoulders and moves her in front of him. “Your mother loves you, Alix. More than you know, and more than anything else in the world. Everything she does is for you, and I’m sure that she is trying to get home as fast as possible to see you again. Okay? It’s alright.” He pulls her into another hug. “You are the strongest little girl that I know.”
Alix starts to giggle and pulls away from his hug. “How many times do I have to say it? I’m not little! I turned eight today, remember?”
Reginald begins to chuckle as well. “How could I forget? I watched you open your presents this morning!” He uses a single hand to roughen up her hair a little. “And...”
“What? What?!” Alix jumps up and down, her energy clearing in excess from not doing much for the day.
“Well, while you weren’t looking this morning, I snuck the largest cake I could find into the fridge.” With an exasperated gasp, Alix flicks around to face the kitchen and almost takes off in a sprint. Reginald, however, still had a hand on her shoulder and managed to pull her back into his arms. “No peeking until we have dinner-”
“Aw... can’t I just see a little bit?” She starts pouting and looking cutely into his eyes.
“Come on Alix, it’s almost six. Your mother would kill me if she finds out I let you have cake before dinner this late.” Reginald gets off his knees and walks over to the kitchen. While he finds the necessary food-items and ingredients for spaghetti bolognese, Alix tries to sneak a look at the box for the cake.
Reginald now has the spaghetti boiling in a pan of water, Alix watches the thin line of steam rise from the bubbling water. On another pan, the mince and bolognese sauce crackle with the heat; Reginald uses a wooden spoon to ensure it’s all cooked properly.
“No calls yet?” He asks, still focusing on the mince.
Alix is slumped over a stool, leaning her arms on the counter/bar bench. She looks down to the home-phone nestled between all ten of her fingers, sighing lowly. “Nope. How much longer until dinner is ready?”

Reginald takes a look at the spaghetti, it’s all clearly softened and erratically piled at the bottom of the sauce-pan. “Right now.” He turns off the two cook- tops and takes two bowls from the cupboards to his left. He loads up both bowls with spaghetti and mince, placing a fork in each and sliding one to Alix.
The quiet atmosphere is then abruptly disrupted by the ringing of the phone. Alix’s eyes dart to the now vibrating phone in her hands; as soon as she spots the answer button, she presses it and throws the phone up to her ear. “Hello...?”
“Alix! Hey kiddo, how are you doing?”
“Good, Mum. Reggie made us some Spaghetti for dinner; he also said that he got me the biggest cake he could find. But, he’s not letting me have it until after dinner-” Alix presses the loud-speaker button on the phone and places it on the counter, using both hands to twist a fork-ful of spaghetti.
“Well, he should. You know that you need to have dinner before dessert.”
“Mum...” Alix begins, melancholy thoughts rush past behind her eyes.
“What is it, honey?” Silence radiates from the phone, Alix’s eyes dart across the counter as she works up a reply.
“I was re-really scared, Mum. I say the fires and the bad people on the news, and the news man saying violent and other big words. I was... I’m-- Mum...” Alix slowly begins to cry, a few tears and stifled sobs seep through. Reginald is quick to hold one of her hands in both of his.
“Alix, I love you; you know that. I never did and I never would have given up on getting back to you. Not for anything. Don’t cry, little bear. You’re perfect... and the absolute best daughter any mother could ask for.” Alix uses the sleeve of Reginald’s outstretched arm to wipe most of the tears and watery streaks from her face. Once her sobs quiet down, she notices the distinct sound of a car’s blinker over the phone.
“Are you driving home, Mummy?” She asks innocently, thinking that her Mum may make it home in time for her birthday after all. Mum wouldn’t want to miss out on cake, Alix thought to herself.
“Yes, honey. But I’m not sure if I’ll be able to make it back tonight. I’m really sorry...” Alix’s smile immediately turns into a frown; she looks over to Reginald, who gives an empathetic gaze.
“Okay...” Having already cried, Alix just slumps down further onto the counter and shoves another fork-ful of spaghetti into her mouth. She notices that Reginald looks up towards the door, but doesn’t pay it much mind.
The low humming from the phone ceases, Alix figures that her Mum has

stopped somewhere – to get dinner, maybe. “Don’t worry, honey; I’ve got a surprise for you.”
“Oh, yeah? What’s--” Alix is interrupted by a soft knocking on the door. “Um, someone’s at the door.”
“It’s fine, you can go get it. I’m right here.”
Alix looks up to Reginald who gives her an affirming nod. With a rushed series of soft thuds over carpet, she reaches the door and slowly unlocks it – just now considering how peculiar it is that someone is knocking on the door at this time in the afternoon. She gingerly pulls the white, wooden door open.