Another wave of pain hit me again. This time, liquid gushed out of me.
Oh no.
No. No. No.
This can’t be it. I read about this. I was sure my waters had broken. I pushed my hand inside my pants, feeling the wetness, before pulling my hand out to look at the liquid on my fingers. It was clear with a tiny bit of pink.
The next contraction made more fluid come out of me. The contractions were now coming less than two minutes apart. There was immense pressure within me. I was pretty sure the baby was coming, but I didn’t want to accept it until another contractionhit, and it felt like I’d poop myself. I banged on the door again, but nobody came.
I pushed my pants off and crawled onto the bed. I didn’t know what I was doing. I knew that I had read that book over and over again, and this was what labor and delivery were like, except it was happening way faster than it said. As soon as I reached my hand down between my legs, another contraction came. Something hit my hand. I lifted and looked, and between my legs sat my baby.
I reached my other hand down and gently grabbed the baby—a boy—the tiniest baby I’d ever seen. My eyes flashed to the clock—seven-zero-three. He was making small squeaking noises. I pulled him to my stomach, the umbilical cord still attached. His eyes were still fused shut. His little arms jerked slightly. He made little gasps, trying to take in air. His skin was nearly translucent. He was about a foot long, almost fitting in one hand. He made another little whimper, his little chest rose, and then fell. Never rising again. I put my lips over his nose and mouth and breathed into him.
He was gone. I looked at the clock.
Seven-zero-seven.
Four minutes.
The loudest, most primal scream tore out of me. Tears flowed down my cheeks. Liquid flowed out of me, then something else followed. I reached down, and it was the placenta. Blood soaked the mattress beneath me. I didn’t know what to do. No one was coming for me, but part of me no longer cared. If I died, then I’d be with my baby again. I laid back onto the bed, pulling his tiny body next to me, holding him against my chest. I sobbed until there was nothing left, and even then, I couldn't stop.
Chapter 11
Light streamed into the room. My eyes strained to open. Everything was hazy. Wait. What happened? There was blood everywhere. My little baby was in my arms. Oh Lord. This wasn’t a nightmare. This was real. This happened.
My eyes moved to the light, to the open door. Quinnlyn stood there. Eyes wide, mouth open. I couldn’t keep my eyes open.
“WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED HERE?” Quinnlyn screamed.
My eyes shot open again. The guard stood next to him now, pure terror painted on his face. My eyes closed again.
A sharp crack pulled my eyes open. Then another crunch. Quinnlyn was on top of the guard. His fists came down over and over, blood hitting the walls. Darkness pulled me back under. I could hear bones cracking, and I wanted to open my eyes, but I couldn’t. My whole body broke into goosebumps and then trembled.
“Get the fuck out of here!” Quinnlyn shouted.
My right eye and nose throbbed, reminding me why I couldn’t fully open my right eye. I opened my left eye to see Quinnlyn standing in the doorway. Blood was splattered all over his face and hands. He stared at me. His eyes moved rapidly around the room before he locked onto what was in my arms. My tiny little baby boy laid there. He was hard and ice cold, but I wasn’tready to let go yet. Tears rolled down my cheeks and onto the mattress. I wanted to stand, but my legs wouldn’t move.
More people entered the room. I couldn't make out how many of them there were, but several figures were standing behind Quinnlyn. My eyes felt so heavy. Everything was so cold. Quinnlyn turned around, and my eyes fell closed again.
“No,” Quinnlyn shouted, jerking me back out of the daze.
“You will… do as…” Ravik said. Wait. What did that mean?
“If you… you… dirty… work…” Quinnlyn said.
“Get rid of her, now!” Ravik yelled. I forced my eyes open. Ravik was ordering him to get rid of me. To kill me. My baby and I would die a day apart. Images of Aspen as a newborn floated through my vision. Footsteps pounded out of the room. I could make out the fuzzy shape of the door. They left it open. I needed to live for her. I could run. I could get out of here. Quinnlyn stood in the doorway, staring at me. I’d never outrun him. He was going to kill me.
He turned around and walked out of the room. He left me there. He was going to come back and finish it. I had nothing left for sobs. Only tears. The mattress was completely covered in blood. I could feel it weeping out from between my legs. The placenta was still next to me, still attached to him.
My heart was beating faster and faster by the second, and my breathing turned shallow and rapid. He didn’t have to kill me—I was sure I was dying anyway. Something was wrong. Everything felt so heavy. So cold.
Feet pounded into the room. I opened my eyes. I wanted him to look me in the eyes when he did it. He was standing there with Benji and Calliope next to him. Their eyes were wide, Benji's cheeks were wet. This was it for me. I clutched the little guy tighter, bringing him closer to my cheek. Aspen would be okay without me. I had to believe that. I’d join my little boy.
Quinnlyn walked into the room slowly, staring at me. I gazed into his eyes—bloodshot, blood caked in his hair and stubble.
“We gotta do this quickly… Your truck is at the side entrance,” Benji said.
“I’ll walk ahead of you and whistle two times if the coast is clear,” Calliope said.
