My entry for CONTESTS! YAY! The theme for this month, is loss.
I thought I'd give poetry a try, instead of writing a short story-although this is like a short story in a sense.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harvest Moon.
P.S. For some reason, FanFiction is not letting me add spaces in between stanzas. So to clear up any confusion, every three lines is a stanza, with the third line rhyming with the next third line in the stanza after it.
Stepping on Thorns
White walls, sterile needles, nine months due,
Screams, relentless tears, and a face of reddish hue,
This is it, the waiting is over, now she can breathe,
Grip like the Earth's orbit to the sun, never letting go,
The silver-haired cowboy gives up his hand, he knows,
She needs him, the pain alone brings her to her knees,
A flurry of blankets, water and soothing words in her ear,
Her pounding heart, screams, and gasps is all she can hear,
She want this to be over, she wants it all to be done,
One hour turns into two, and two hours turns into three,
The pain is like a volcano, she shouts; "get this thing outta me!"
But the battle is not yet over, the battle is not yet won,
She tries to push, she tries to breathe slowly,
But she is too scared, what if the child thinks of her as lowly?
"I'm not ready to be a parent," she thinks. "It's too soon!"
Finally, the pain decreases, she no longer has to try,
After nine months, she finally gets to hear that baby's cry,
There is a quiet murmur, and the doctor leaves the room,
The baby is with him, why is he not crying?
But she feels so tired, all that escapes her lips is sighing,
The silver-haired cowboy pulls up the blanket to his wife,
She sleeps what felt like a moment or two, but it was a night,
The room is dimly lit, with her husband sitting to her right,
"Where's the baby?" She asks. "Where is this little life?"
The silver-haired cowboy's eyes fill with tears, he trembles,
"He's gone, Chelsea, a still-born." Chelsea's heart goes in shambles,
This isn't right, he was supposed to be here! His life was about to start!
A wail travels through the hallway, through the doors, and flew outside,
Nothing, nothing in the world has ever made her feel this awful inside,
Her son, her only son left as quickly as he came, it shattered her heart,
Days later, a crowd dressed in black visits the church, flowers in hand,
A little ivory coffin is ready to be buried in the soft sand,
Hushed whispers and solemn hugs are given and returned,
Beads of tears fall down their faces, a sob escapes once or twice,
The grief displayed here could even melt the hearts made of ice,
It could wither and slink, reach out and sympathize, or sadly burn,
Flowers are setting down, leaning against the cross on the beach,
One by one, the people leave, feeling happiness is too far out of reach,
The couple stay behind, silently left to grieve and mourn,
Chelsea hugs the silver-haired cowboy, trying to stop the tears,
But is of no use, even with consolation, she can feel her fears,
For even a loss like this, is far worse than stepping on thorns.
I wish everyone the best of luck in this contest, it looks like it's going to be a good one!
- JakunenNeesan
P.S. Happy Easter everyone!