Real lives
Mine and my mum’s favourite film was Practical Magic, and those witches gave me an idea to find my soulmate…
Sitting at Mum’s bedside, I handed over her tablets and a glass of water. ‘Thank you, baby girl,’ she said with a smile. No matter how poorly she was, she always had a smile for me.
‘You’re welcome, Mum,’ I replied.
‘You’re such a star, I love you,’ she cooed as she gently stroked my cheek. ‘I love you too,’ I said. I was 12, but I’d helped my stepdad look after her for years.
Mum had lots of health problems and she’d had a stroke. She also struggled with mental health and was often bedbound from being so unwell.
The responsibility of caring for her and my little sister made me mature faster than other kids, but I always cherished being there for them.
I checked Mum’s blood sugar and helped her shower — anything to help. While I gave her plenty of emotional support, she gave me stability and unconditional love.
Not only were we mother and daughter, but we were also best friends.
We spent so much time in her room, chatting away and giggling like teenagers.
If I ever had a troubling day at school, she listened to me.
There were always lots of warm hugs and loving grins too.
We adored cuddling up together to watch our favourite film, Practical Magic, starring Nicole Kidman and Sandra Bullock as a pair of witches.
It was our film, and it brought us both comfort whenever we felt down.
As my 13th birthday approached, Mum seemed to improve. She could leave the house more and swapped her usual dark clothes for brighter numbers.
But one morning, I walked into her room with her medication and said: ‘Here’s your tablets, Mum.’
But she was just lying still on her bed.
‘Mum?’ I called again, and gently nudged her shoulder. Then it hit me… ‘Mum!’ I screamed. My stepdad ran in and what happened next was a blur. Numb, I sat sobbing as paramedics arrived. But it was too late. Mum had passed away. My mother, and my best friend in the whole world, was gone.
My heart had shattered into tiny pieces.
I barely had time to process it as I moved from Newcastle to Brighton, where my dad’s family lived.
A month after her death, my 13th birthday went by in a haze.
Without her, I felt lost and alone.
All I wanted was a knight in shining armour to ride by and scoop me up into his arms.
I wanted someone who would love me unconditionally, look after me and keep me safe.
I remembered our favourite film and how one of the witches made a wish.
She wanted to find her true love, but she also wished that he’d have one green eye and one blue eye, so she’d know it was him.
So I
