Author's Note: No, I have not disappeared, I was merely excited to find that my story was more at home in the book category than in the movie. This story just kind of came to me and I hope that you enjoy it.
The world beyond her was an indistinct haze of swirling, churning blurry masses. No forms distinguishable or identifiable. She fought against the confusion to decipher what was there in existence, and yet she could not muster the strength to make the path clear. She could remember nothing of why she was in this spectral world that billowed around her like a ball gown caught in the wind.
Beside her and surrounding her there was a soft rustle of fabrics as people, nameless and faceless, continued to labor around her. Cool hands brushed her face tenderly, and yet it did not make sense. And she was both searingly hot and icily cold in turn. What had happened? Her mind tried to recall, and yet there was no answer to the question.
She was terrified, as terrified as she had ever been in her life. She longed for her mother's hands or mammy's hands to soothe her and wash away this feeling of aloneness and fear. At times she was powerless to fight against the blackness that seemed to be pulling relentlessly at her, and given no other option she surrendered to its strength.
Slowly the world began to make sense again as bits and moments of lucidity surfaced, and yet with that awareness came intense waves of pain so strong that she could feel the bile rising in her throat. She had not known that such pain existed. It was beyond the intensity of childbirth or a broken arm for it did not fade, and she was incapable of doing anything to control it. She struggled against the pain, moaning even as vague memories of the events that preceded this swirling world of agony assaulted her. She could not isolate any specific memory only an amalgam of joy and anger and then fear. And yet it all tumbled together so that it was impossible to distinguish where one began and the other ended.
She tried to speak, tried to beg for someone to ease this pain, stopper the tremors of misery that was ripping through her body in waves of white hot fire. And yet she had no voice. When her mouth opened, all she managed to expel was a faint moan.
But that sound seemed to compel action for suddenly the rustling of skirts seemed to quicken as if more bodies were rapidly trying to quell the sounds that she was making. A familiar voice boomed "Doan you know that this chile caint be 'llowed ta feel dat pain. I tole you yah had ta make shu that she had the medicine, you fool!" And even as those words were spoken, she felt as if she were being lifted up and the something cool and smooth was upon her lips and something wet was flowing down her throat.
And suddenly she knew what she needed, she tried to force her mouth to work, to make those gentle hands understand what she needed, but again she could not manage anything other than a weak moaning that sounded very far away. And each sound seemed to float farther and farther away as the pain seemed to ebb until she felt nothing else. Each time that she tried to resurface, she was pushed back down firmly by whatever was being forced through her lips.
When awareness next seemed to come around, the haziness was fading quickly. Some of the searing pain was gone, leaving only an undefinable ache in its place. For the first time since she had fallen into this other world did she recall what the joy she had been feeling before this spectral existence came upon her was. "The baby." She remembered. She tried to lift her hands to caress her abdomen which had only begun to reveal what her secret had been, but she did not have the strength to do so. Her hand only fell limply to her side.
But apparently her actions had not gone unnoticed for the smooth object was again meeting her lips, but she did not want to be sucked under again. She wanted to know what had happened. Nothing made sense and she needed answers, so she turned her head away from it. Gentle hands tried to hold her head so that they could force her into the darkness once again. Finally mustering all of her strength she whispered "No!"
How odd. Her voice did not sound her own. It was raspy and hoarse from disuse and so weak and faint that it very well could have been coming in from another room, through a wall. She struggled to open her eyes which were matted shut. "Eyes." She rasped. And immediately she felt the warm moisture and the rough texture as someone was carefully washing her eyes lids with a cloth to free them from the accumulated crust..
Finally freed, she pried her eyes open, and at first the world held no more shape or logic than the land in which she had been floating. It was an all encompassing blur with no edges or planes of existence. Slowly though, her eyes began to focus on the room around her. And the first face that she saw was one that had been with her for many years by now. She welcomed the site of her, though many times she had not. "Melly..." she sighed.
"Hush, darling. You must save your strength." Melanie's voice cautioned. Her warm eyes held such sadness. Why was Melanie sad? Why was there such fear and grief in her eyes? Surely it could not be so terrible, for she was awaking now, wasn't she. The worst surely must be over.
"Do you need a drink, darling?" Melanie asked softly.
She could do little more than a whisper of a nod, and then a spoon was held to her lips and cool water flowed into her parched mouth. For a moment she lay there trying to recall what had happened to put her in such a situation that Melanie or anyone would be taking care of her. She had always been the caregiver, and the change in the roles was bewildering to her. She could recall nothing other than the overwhelming feeling that she missed him. She missed Rhett. He was who she needed. He was the one that she wanted to see.
She wanted him – needed him to tell her that all was right. And yet as her lips began to form his name, ghastly images began descending upon her in rapid succession so brisk and sudden that it stole her breath. There had been such bitter angry words that they had hurled at each other, when she had wanted nothing more than to have him hold her and tell her how happy he was about the baby. And yet then she recalled the words that he had spoken, "Maybe you'll have a miscarriage...". She was afraid and heart sick and for a moment completely defeated.
But no, she would not be deterred. With renewed determination her hands shakily rose to feel her abdomen which was as flat as it had been during the starving times at Tara. She knew with certainty that the child was gone. Whatever had happened after those angry words, had taken her baby from her. Suddenly she wrenched onto her side and began heaving though nothing could come of it. There was little inside of her to dispel. She was completely empty. Waves of agony, both physical and emotional ripped through her causing her to tremble violently as tears began coursing down her face.
She sucked in air trying to gain control, but she had no strength left to accomplish that feat. She did not struggle when the spoon was once again pushed into her mouth. She welcomed the darkness. She needed the oblivion to forget for a moment the anguish that she was feeling. And yet even as Melanie was carefully repositioning her on her back, weak tears seeped between her eyelids that she could not stop. Her heart ached as the blackness descended again.
But even in the blackness she felt no relief to the pain. Her body did not hurt in the same searing manner, but her heart and mind made up for the physical relief. And as she lay there in agony, her mind replayed the day on the stairs. She would not be allowed to forget the terrible things that she had said. There would be no end to her pain.
It was worse than the nightmares of the fog, for her mind had combined all of her worst nightmares into a frightening blur. And she wanted to call out for Rhett, but she knew that he would not want her. Self-doubt assailed her. All through her youth she had managed to fight off those doubts of her beauty and charm never being adequate, and yet in this engulfing darkness she felt wholly unworthy of anything other than hate and resentment. She was in an abyss in which she could only dwell on her failures and transgressions and the pain and agony of losing her child.
When the darkness began to fade, she made no movement as to reveal her return to coherence. She was not ready to face the blame for the mistakes that she had made, nor was she prepared to deal with the sympathy of even those who knew and loved her best. She wanted only to be comforted by the arms of the person with whom she had shared her child, and yet she was not willing to see the hate and loathing in his eyes. As grieved as her heart was she could not tolerate to look into his eyes and see anything other than the same grief that was destroying her.
But as her brain cleared, her stomach began to rumble. She was famished. She needed something in her stomach, something to quell the churning acid. With no other option, she slowly opened her eyes to see Melly sitting beside her, always Melanie. It wasn't that she wasn't relieved to see someone who she knew loved her to be at her side, but she was bewildered as to why even in half lucidity she had not heard Rhett's flat Charlestonian drawl.
"Melly," She whispered through dry cracked lips. "I'm hungry."
Melanie's eyes jerked to her sister-in-law's face. "Oh, darling, I'll be right back. Please, darling, don't try to move." She cautioned.
Scarlett whispered a quiet agreement before Melanie slipped from the room. She considered disobeying, but the memory of the pain from the last time that she had tried nearly caused her stomach to revolt. No, for the moment she needed to lie still until she could ascertain her ailments.
She lay there quietly in her bed listening to the faint strains of childish laughter that filtered though the door from down the hall. There was no one in the room with her, no one to caution her to be careful or fuss over her slightest movement, but that tranquility lasted only a moment, for almost immediately Melanie had returned with a bowl in her hands.
"Oh Darling, I am so thankful that you are awake. Everyone has been so worried for you." Melanie cooed as she set upon the bed with the bowl cradled in her lap. "Here Scarlett. Drink this." She instructed as she lifted the spoon to the open mouth.
Scarlett greedily slurped the first several spoonfuls down, but was already growing tired from the exertion and shook her head when Melanie offered a fifth spoon. "I can't." She whispered pathetically, feeling a fool for how little it seemed to take to deplete her of strength. "I'm sorry." She whispered, her eyes pooling with tears.
"Hush, now darling. You are on the road to recovery. You will be fine. We must simply take it one day at a time. You don't know how terribly weak you were." There was an incompleteness to what she had spoken, and yet Scarlett understood that the unspoken fact was that death had been all too close. She had nearly not only lost her child, but very nearly lost her own life.
The exertion of such a small meal had sapped her of her strength, so that she could do little else than lay there quietly until she feel into a deep sleep void of the nightmares. When she awakened she felt stronger, and she looked to her side to see Mammy sitting in the seat that Melanie had occupied.
"Mammy," she breathed.
The old woman's dark and wrinkled face lit brightly at the voice of the woman-child she had raised as spoke to her for the first time since she had fallen. "Mah Lamb," Mammy crooned, as she ran her rough hand against Scarlett's smooth cheek. "You was quite de site. You sho look bettah than ya did. Here, you need to eat." Mammy prodded already offering another spoonful of what must have been broth.
Scarlett sipped at the spoon's contents, which was immediately replaced with another until she could eat no more. "I can't" she whispered as Mammy continued trying to coax her into eating more.
"Come on, lamb. You kin eat jist a bit more."
"I can't Mammy. I ate all I could." She could see the worry lines still etched upon the ancient face. "It will just take a little time, Mammy." She whispered, sounding a bit more like her usual self. After a moment of silence she turned her eyes back again on Mammy. "Mammy, how bad was it?"
Mammy did not respond; she seemed to be holding back her pain to herself. Finally she opened her mouth. "De doctah will be heah dis afternoon and he kin tell you jist what things was like."
It was the lack of answer the frightened Scarlett more than anything. She tried to push the fear of the unknown aside, but it would not be relegated until tomorrow. It hovered over her like an ominous specter, ready to swoop down and smoother her. The answer was obvious to her now. Death had been a mere breath away. She shuddered as if she could feel the icy breath of the grim reaper grazing the fine hairs on the back of her neck.
"Mammy," she finally spoke. "Where is Rhett? Why isn't he here?"
"Oh, Cap'n Butler is bust right now. He took the chillun's to the park." Mammy averted her eyes and busied herself.
"But," Scarlett said trying to rise from the bed to a sitting position. "But I would be at his side if he were injured." She said as she winced from the pain of the movement, bewildered that he didn't even care enough to be at her side.
"You know they say that men folks, doan handle things quite like a lady does. Men folks aren't ready to see such stuff."
Hot, fat tears rolled down Scarlett's wan face. And as much as she didn't understand why she wanted him there, needed him at her side, she did. And yet it was as if in the fall something inside of her had broken, and she could not fight him. For the first time in her life, she knew of no way to maintain hope of anything changing. There was nothing left to fight for. And she closed her eyes in resignation and defeat for Rhett could never be hers. She would not call for him, would not ask for him. She would not lay down her pride, it was the only thing left to her name. She would not even hope for him to come, for if he had cared what had happened he would not be away now. And that fledging feeling in her heart sputtered and died. And she vowed to fight no more.