I paced the uneven floorboards in the one bedroom flat. Still wearing an old, stained, grey T-shirt, I went over this month's rental costs and taxes in my head.

$1,500 for the month of January, and so far I could only come up with $900. I'd have to ask Peter, the landlord, if he could let my payment be late for this month--again.

I let out a long sigh, rubbing my eyes.

"Whatcha doin?" Bronwin yawned.

"You should be asleep," I gave her a pointed look.

"You should be too," she stubbornly, crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow.

"Ronni, I don't have time to play games with you. School starts in three hours, you need rest," I decided, ending the conversation. Her curly blonde hair was sticking all over the place, and she pouted sending me a glare.

"I don't wanna go to school," she complained.

I took this as an opportunity for me to let out a long, frustrated sigh.

"Everyone's boring, I have no friends. You aren't there, and the teachers! They won't stop talking!" She complained dramatically.

"I don't have time for this," I muttered to myself. "I don't have time for this today! You're going to school, and that's final!"

"You don't have to go to school--"

"No, I don't. You want to know why? Let me enlighten you, you have now become my responsibility! I have to feed you, cloth you, give you shelter, and my god I have to make sure you go to school! And this is all because you wanted to see the stupid orchestral concert for your birthday! You just couldn't not miss it, could you!?" My voice raised, and I felt heat flood my cheeks.

Bronwin's dark blue eyes started to water, and she wiped them fiercely.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to be such a burden!" Her voice cracked, and she turned.

"Ronnie--wait. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have--" I was interrupted by the slam of her bedroom door, the only room in the flat. "said that."

Letting out a loud grown, I chucked the closest object to me across the room. My hand curled around a knockoff Big Ben ornament, and my heart lurched out of my chest.

"Someday you'll create something as fantastic as Big Ben, causing people from all over the world to come see it," his father said. His blue eyes twinkling with pride, as he placed the 'Big Ben' in my small hand.

I collapsed onto the nearest chair, and held my head in my hands. What's going on with me? I thought, running a hand through my unkept hair.

Letting out a shaky breath, I tasted something wet and salty. There you go again, blubbering like a baby. I slammed the ornament onto the cold kitchen counter, and somberly strode over to Ronnie's room.

"Ronnie?" I called, knocking on her door softly.

No answer.

Of course she wouldn't answer!

"Hey, what do you say we go out to the Diner for dinner tonight? My treat?"

Still nothing.

"Ronnie?" I called, a sense of panic swelling in my chest. Gripping the doorknob, I twisted it back and forth.

"Ronnie? Open the door! Ronnie!" I shouted, knocking on it frantically.

"Ronnie!--"

The door slammed open, and the small girl's shoulders heaved. I grabbed her shoulders roughly, she was solid. She was intact. She wasn't hurt. She was safe.

"Christ, you scared me! Don't you ever do that! You understand me? You don't just ignore me Ronnie--what? What's wrong?" My voice lowered, now gentle. I relieved the pressure on her shoulders, and I worriedly searched her eyes for answers.

"Tell me it's not true!" She demanded, wailing.

"What? What's not true?"

"That--that they're lying," she sniffled, throwing her arms around me tightly.

"Ronnie, what's gotten into you? What are you talking about?" I asked incredulously.

"This," she shouted, hysterically, thrusting the newspaper into my hands. "Tell me they were joking. That it was a typo! You weren't really drafted were you?"

I felt last night's dinner crawl up my throat, but I swallowed hard; feeling the substance slide down my throat.

"Everything will be okay Ronnie," I whispered softly.

"What do you mean, 'Everything will be okay Ronnie'? They didn't draft you right? Right? Cause that's the only way everything will be okay! They have to be lying, they have to be. There's a typo--it must be a typo," she tried to convince herself, pacing back and forth.

I grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to look at me.

"They--they aren't lying. My name--it--it made The List," I searched her eyes, waiting for her to say she hated me--something.

But she just stared at me and shook her head.

"That's not fair. I-I can't loose you," she whispered covering her mouth with her hand.

"Hey, hey," I soothed. "Who says you're loosing me? I'm still right here, I'll always be right here."

"No-no you won't. They'll kill you, you'll die!" She sobbed, her fists curling tightly onto my shirt.

"You don't know that," my voice was strained, hoarse.

"You don't stand a chance," she whispered.

I know, I thought. I don't stand a chance. I'm going to die, it's what would happen. But I had to give her hope, something to cling onto.

"You can't get rid of me that easily," I teased.

"Why didn't you tell me," she demanded, still holding onto me in an embrace.

"I-I didn't want to worry you. You already have enough going on," I shrugged.

I felt her punch my shoulder, "That's not a valid enough reason! I need you!"

"I know," I whispered, my hands playing with her curls. "I know. I need you too. I need you to be strong. Be strong for Mom, Dad, and me. Do you think you can do that?"

"What am I supposed to do when you're gone?"

"I'll have to ask Peter if he could--"

"Peter's mean! His wife is even crueler! Don't get me started on the stuck up snobs they have for children--"

"Okay. Okay, Peter isn't an option. I understand. I'll--I'll find something else," I promised her.

"Or you could, I don't know, not go?" She whispered.

"You know I would do that if I could."

"I know," Ronnie sniffled. "can't you just let me be in denial?"

"Okay, okay. I'll try to find a way," I spoke softly.

I felt her nod subtly, as we sat there. My arms around her.

And I felt my own tears intermix with hers.

Who knew if I'd ever hold her again?

Who knew if I'd ever see her again?