Prologue
(July 23rd, 1982)
Screams echo throughout the hallways of the pristine hospital as a woman struggles to give birth to her third child. This one had been a surprise and likely the last. She was after all, past her prime. At forty-eight years old and having given birth only just the year before, she was weak. "Push!" the doctor encourages as she gasps for air and her bleach blonde hair sticks to her forehead from the sweat dripping down her face. With a determined glint in her ice blue eyes she gives one more mighty push before collapsing back onto the bed as the nurses' rush to clean up her baby. It's silent though. The baby isn't crying, with fear in her eyes she watches as they desperately try to save her little baby. Her little miracle. It's a grueling three minutes before weak little cries rend the air and everyone breathe a sigh of relief.
One of the nurses wraps her little child in a blanket and places it gently into her weary arms. "Congratulations!" she whispers. "It's a boy." With a smile she turns around to give the mother and child time to connect while cleaning up the tools used. The woman stares at the little boy in her arms with awe and a little fear. He's so small, she wonders. Much smaller than his two big brothers were when they had been born. With careful hands she brushes back the pitch black baby hair growing a top his little head. He squirms for a moment before settling down in her arms, content to fall asleep. A few minutes pass as she watches her little miracle before her husband comes in carrying their little one-year-old boy and their eight-year-old son trailing behind. With a smile she trades children with her husband before the smile slowly falls from her face as she watches the two of them. "We almost lost him," she whispers in hoarse voice. "He wasn't breathing for at least three minutes after being born."
The father looks carefully at the little being in his arms before he turns to his wife and eldest son. "Then we'll take good care of him. Protect him. We won't let anything bad happen to our littlest boy." Determination filled the eldest son's dark blue eyes as he listens to his father and watches his youngest brother sleeping in his father's arms. The light glints off of his auburn hair as he turns to his mother who has a sleeping toddler tucked into her side. Wild black curls going every which way and a chubby hand fisted in her hospital gown. "What are you naming him, mummy?" The young boy enquires, "Nothing dull I hope." The mother gives a soft laugh in response before connecting eyes with her husband and they all then look at the little miracle sleeping on obliviously.
"Erie. His name will be Erie Edward Holmes."