1996 February 4^th, Lori is 18 years old, Tally is 2 hours old. She looks me in the eyes and it’s love at first sight. The smell of newborn baby overpowers the sterile smell of hospital chemicals. Pillars of afternoon sun sneak in through the window and gently caress her slowly rising chest.  I kiss her tiny head covered in fine black hair like mine; hold her small body close to me. Her body is foreign yet familiar in my arms. In this moment Tally is my perfect little girl, and I silently swear to her that I won’t ever let anything hurt her. I don’t need her scum father, I only need her. 

2013 February 4^th, Tally is 17 years old, Lori is 35 years old. Mum and Steven are passed out in the lounge room, Steven’s Guns N’ Roses shirt is plastered in his own vomit. They’re always getting stoned out of their minds; mum has forgotten I even exist. I think of the way she looks at me blankly, not seeing, and how Steven looks hungrily at me a little but too long when she’s not looking. I creep out the back door, just loud enough to wake them, but they don’t stir, so I jump the fence and pick my way down dirty alleys ridden with broken bottles and crudely discarded syringes. The cold city air creeps through my bones and gently tugs at my ebony hair, the only thing me and mum have in common anymore. Over the hum of cars and horns I can hear music about sex and weed coming from Jessica Thomas’ house. She’s always hosting parties with loud music and drinking, every kind of drug I’ve heard of and more nudity than an American Pie movie.

 I can smell the booze at Jessica’s from a few blocks down. I’m used to the smell; our apartment reeks of it. She used to be just on grog, but now it’s anything that she can get her bony hands on.

 A few kids from the party at Jessica’s are staggering towards me. It’s three boys from school who I have classes. “Tally!” Harley Baylee and Mark Holland holler, and Josh West gives me a hug, his mouth uncomfortably close to mine. His yellow hair practically glows under the cheap artificial light from a street lamp.

“It’s going off at Jess’. We’re just going to get some more drinks then heading back, and you should come with us. What do you think darl?” 

He smiles widely and puts his arm around my shoulder.

When we get back to the party, I can barely think from the music, and I like it. It makes me forget about how my mum is always high and I’ve got nothing to live for. But it wasn’t always like that, when I was young mum lived for me. She used to dry my tears and kiss it better every time I scraped my knee, she protected me from everything, but she forgot about all the promises she made when she started dating Steven. No thanks, I’d rather not think.

There are a few girls in the room, two are leaning over the bin holding each other’s hair back from spew, so I stand on my own. Josh makes his way towards me holding a Styrofoam cup. “What’s in it?” I ask.

“I’m not sure,” he says as he places it on my lips and starts tilting it, “but it burns a bit on the way down.” And it does.  

A slower, less aggressive song comes on and Josh’s face lights up. “I know this song! Dance with me, Tally.”

He holds his hand out to me, but I shake my head. “No thanks, I don’t dance.”

“Oh, I have something that will make you want to dance. Here,” Josh whispers into my ear, as he places something in my hand. I look down at the little white pill in my hand.

 “I’m not taking this,” I try to place the toxic thing back into his hand but he won’t take it.

“Aw, are you scared?” He teases me, his face still close to mine, and his vile breath on my ear. He swallows his pill. “Are you scared about what mummy might think?”

“I don’t give a f*ck what mummy thinks.”  

2013, February 5^th, Lori is 35 years old, Tally is 17 years old. The room spins when I sit up. A voice vibrates around my head before I can process it. “Lori, where’s Tally?” Steven is asking. I think.

I rub my eyes and he materialised before me with a somewhat anxious face. “What do you mean, is she in here room?”

I lay back down, but the world keeps spinning so I walk to the kitchen and pour a cup of Coke. “Loki, did you hear me? Tally isn’t here.”

“What would you know,” I growl, “you’re drunk. Go have a shower, your shirt is filthy.”

“I’m serious, Lori, Tally is gone.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Steven goes to the bathroom as told and I stagger to Tallys room. “Tally,” I coo. I pull back the sheets, but where a living body should be there are only cold lifeless pillows. My heart thuds faster as horror and panic set in.

Ring ring. Ring ring.

The room starts spinning again.

2013 February 5^th, Lori is 35 years old, Tally is 17 years old.

A slower, less aggressive song comes on and Josh’s face lights up. “I know this song! Dance with me, Tally.”

He holds his hand out to me, but I shake my head. “No thanks, I don’t dance.”

“Oh, I have something that will make you want to dance. Here,” Josh whispers into my ear, as he places something in my hand. I look down at the little white pill in my hand.

 “I’m not taking this,” I try to place the toxic thing back into his hand but he won’t take it.

“Aw, are you scared?” He teases me, his face still close to mine, and his vile breath on my ear. He swallows his pill. “Are you scared about what mummy might think?”

“I don’t give a f*ck what mummy thinks.” 

2013 February 5^th, Lori is 35 years old, Tally is 17 years old. I look into her eyes but she looks through me, not seeing anything. I squeeze her hand but she doesn’t respond. “Baby, I’m sorry,” I weep to her, although she can’t hear me. I lean over her and kiss her forehead; the smell of alcohol on Tally overpowers the stench of the over-sanitised hospital. All I can hear is the drip of medicine going down the tube into the needle taped to Tally’s arm, assorted beeps coming from assorted machines monitoring my daughters’ vitals and silence, silence louder than I’ve ever heard, silence that shouldn’t be there, silence that should be filled with the sound of my little girl breathing. “I’m sorry baby,” I sob again, “Tal, I’ll get clean, I promise this time and I mean it, just come back to me. I’m sorry I couldn’t keep my promise before, I really mean it this time, I promise. Just don’t leave me, please."

 Her hand squeezes mine back.