I almost fly to the hospital. She is in my arms, twitching in pain with her hands over her stomach. Moans escape her lips now and then. She is pale, pale as an immortal, all her strenght has gone to the red stain in her legs, and it is all my fault.
How could I? How could I do that to her? But then again, why didn't she tell me she was expecting a child? When I hand her to the doctor and he checks her, he tells me that she was almost four months pregnant. Why did she keep it a secret? Does she not know that what I want the most is having children with her? Didn't she see how thrilled I was when our son was born? Desperation eats me while I wait in the hallway for news. I walk and walk, like a lion in a cage, guilt and anguish corroding my whole being. Then the doctor comes out, wearing a stern expression.
"Doctor, how is she?" I demand. "And the baby? Is the baby safe?"
He looks at me and then speaks. "She's a bit weak, because she lost a lot of blood, but other than that she'll be fine. About the baby... I'm so sorry. There was nothing we could do. The injuries were too serious. I'm truly sorry."
She lost the baby. No, I made her lost the baby. I killed it. Such a monster...
"May I see her?" I ask.
"Sure. This way, please."
"Does she know about... this?"
"Yes. But she's very calm, not a tear, not a cry. Maybe she still needs to assimilate it, and, as I said before, she's also weak. Just be careful with her, she might break down at any moment."
We go into the room. There she is, my Alice, pale as a ghost, her blue eyes dark, sad. You would never guess she's seventeen, her usually soft features are sharpened and her head is raised with an impressive, mature dignity. She looks at us, her eyes expressionless.
"There you are," she says softly. She sounds so tired...
"Sorry to disturb again, miss, but we need to go through a few things."
"No problem. But don't call me miss, that's too formal. Just Alice."
"All right, then. Well, Alice, I have a few questions. How old are you?"
"Twenty-two," she answers calmly.
"Really? You don't look twenty-two. I mean, your body's development is that of a... sixteen-, seventeen-year-old."
"I'm small for my age. Always been."
"If you say so. You're young, I suppose this is your first pregnancy."
"Second. I have a son, he's almost four."
"But then you gave birth at what, nineteen? That was too early, way too early, and more for your body. An early pregnancy might be the cause of this-" Alice looks at me and then away again. "-incident. But what happened here? This wasn't a spontaneous abortion."
"I... I f-fell. Yes, I fell downstairs."
"And the stairs gave you these?" he shows her her own forearm. There are bruises on her skin, and when the doctor places his hand on them they perfectly match fingerprints. Damn it.
"Yes," she said.
"And this?" asks he again, brushing lightly the left side of her face. It's swollen and becoming slightly purple. I look at her from behind the doctor, trying to stop her from making unnecessary noise.
"Our stairs are made of stone," she insists. "If you fall, they leave you the weirdest bruises."
"Hm," frowns the doctor, still unconvinced. He turns to me. "I'd still like to talk to your daughter's boyfriend, if possible."
"What?" I ask, puzzled.
"Yes, whoever lives with her," he explains, gesturing at Alice.
"This girl is my wife. This was my child."
"Oh," mumbles the doctor, realizing his mistake. "Well, in that case..." I look at Alice, whose lips are curled in a sarcastic, sad smile.
"Could you give us a minute?" asks she.
"Sure. Anything you need, just let me know," he says. She smiles, more sincerely now, and he leaves.
I sit on the bed, beside her. I can't think of anything to say.
"I'm so sorry," I finally whisper.
"Never mind," she says quietly. "It's over now."
"I didn't mean to hurt you, I swear," I insist.
"It would have been too much, that you had actually meant to do this," she replies.
"But why didn't you tell me you were pregnant? Why?"
"I... I didn't know how... and whenever I tried you were too busy, you wouldn't listen to me... and then you left, and then... this happened," she looks down.
I'm surprised at how calmed she is. Not a tear, not a cry, not a reproach. Any other woman in her situation would be devastated, furious at whoever provoked that, yet Alice... and so young, just going on eighteen, and-
"Do you need anything else?" she asks. "I'd like to be alone."
"Oh. Yes, sure. I-I'll see you later. Bye."
When I'm about to leave the room she speaks again.
"I want to see my son. Bring him."
"I will."
While the door closes behind me I try to think of a way to cheer her up. Maybe flowers, or gifts, like when I courted her. But no, I need something better, this is no simple thing. Who can help us, who can comfort her no matter what? It would need magic, a special talent, a... wait. I know who that person is. I take out my cell and phone Jasper Cullen.
Hope you liked it. And, don't forget it, you can find me in Facebook under the name Alice Michelle BrandonWhitlock, or with my e-mail, sxyvamp_. And for you Twitter people, I think I'm RoviCullen, but I'm not sure, so please use the above mentioned e-mail adress. See ya!