Disclaimer: I don't own Ronie Mitchell or any other person used in this fic. The only thing I own is the little plot

Summary: Inside the mind of Ronnie Mitchell after Danielle dies


Why? Why would he lie to me...? Raping me at thirteen years old made me feel sick to the core, but that I could handle. Taking my Amy away from me killed me, but I handled it. Telling me my baby was dead just weeks before telling her to leave devastated me.

She was right under my nose the entire time... my little girl... All those awful things I'd said to her... I help her get an abortion and then told her giving away my baby was the best thing I ever did!

I had to find her before it was too late... I needed my baby. I could hear my own words in my head as I ran toward the tube station... so God knows what must be going through hers.

I shouted her name, called her my baby... And there she was... my beautiful Amy... and she was smiling back at me.

And then everything happened in slow motion

My baby was too frozen with fear to move but my head screamed at her to move out of the way!

Janine hitting her with the car...

My own scream barely audible to my ears.

I could feel her slipping away from me as I held her in my arms.

I knew an ambulance would arrive too late but I couldn't stop myself from shouting for one.

That heartbreaking moment destroyed ever fibre of my being as she used her last breath to say "Mummy..."

I had the devastating job of contacting Danielle's adopted father to come with me to identify her... I didn't need to I knew what my own child looked like!

My angel lay so peacefully I half hoped she was sleeping, but the blue tinge to her lips told me otherwise, and Andy couldn't hate me any more than I already hated myself from the moment I found out the truth and thereafter.

I could feel Stacey's eyes glaring down at me as I arranged the flowers on Danielle's grave as though I "were tucking her into bed" like Stacey said as we talked.

"She asked me once if I ever sung a lullaby to my baby. I was fourteen; lullabies were the last thing on my mind. I took this little radio in with me... I had it on all through labour, and all through until she was taken from me... It was the summer, and they kept playing this one song all the time... How could I sing a lullaby with the radio switched on?" I looked up at Stacey and then went back to arranging the flowers until Stacey left me alone.

And... For the first time, and the only time, I sang to my baby, clutching on to the teddy she used to own, and I sang until I broke down into tears.

I could still smell her on that bear, and that will stay with me until my dying day.


A/N: I know it's only short but it came to my head and had to get it down, please RnR