Back at the house vaguely remembered more convulsions, and more violent shaking. She couldn’t remember being put into her bed, but she could remember her mother lying next to her. Her mother was praying frantically, trying too sooth the little Scarlett all the while getting weaker and weaker herself. Though the soothing did little good when Scarlett was being showered by her mother’s endless tears of sorrow and despair. She also remembered long periods of blackness. Then her mother was getting weaker, fighting to stay alive for her daughter. Her mother’s arm became limper and limper but she stifled her own screams of pain. Scarlett also fought to be strong, but she was so scared. More scared than she would ever be again, for her mother’s comforting words were getting quieter and weaker, some made no sense at all, and sometimes Scarlett would fall limp and then her mother would muster the strength to shake her. And she would be awake again just for the same thing to happen over and over.
As the hours went on, they clung to each other. It was as though her mother was giving all of the life she had in her to the thing she loved so much more than her own life, and as Scarlett got slightly better her mother’s life drained away. Scarlett was much more aware of her surrounding, though not any stronger.
Her mother managed laboriously to wrap her arms around her daughter’s tiny frame and whisper ‘Find others... I’ll see you in heaven.’
Scarlett remember being weakly frantic.
‘Don’t leave me mum, please don’t leave me. You said you would never leave me.’ Scarlett cried again and again.
‘Mummy has to rest... I love you’ And with that Scarlett’s beloved mother died.