I lay my head on the pillow, a dull ache behind my eyes. Alex is watching morning telly, unable to sleep and the flashing is making my head hurt.
"You feel okay?" He asks, looking over.
"I feel weird."
"Don't puke."
"Thanks. No, not that type of weird. Weird like there's something wrong somewhere else."
"Abby's?"
"No, I rang to check. They're all fine." He sighs then looks back at me.
"Mom?" I nod, rubbing a palm across my forehead. I hate this feeling of helplessness. I'm not used to it, and I hate it.
"What you wanna do? Should we drive over there, you said you found the house."
"I dunno if…if she'd want my help."
"Luka, last time you felt like this she was in labour. Something big is happening." I nod. "How do you do it anyway? I mean, know if something's wrong."
"I don't do it on purpose."
"Still, it's pretty cool." He leaps off the end of the bed and grabs his wallet. "Ready to go?"
"You sound happy."
"I sound hopeful that we'll help her." He rolls his eyes. "Plus I might finally get to see my mom."
"Are you drunk?" He laughs.
"Why?"
"You forgave me a little too easily. Please try and get sober-I want your mother to know I at least I try /I and keep you under control."
"Sure thing pop." I sigh and walk out of the room. Why am I bringing my drunken step-son?
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He's definitely gone. Definitely. I heard him leave. I never thought I'd love the sound of the door closing, but it's as if I can breathe again.
"Baby, come here." I'm still not fully conscious but I know I need to get the phone and this pain means I can't physically move anything below my neck. Indy glares at me, mad for me passing out and leaving her with him. Her left wrist is bent and swelling. I'm beginning to worry about permanent damage to the nerves.
The upshot of it all is she won't move. Not for me, or anyone. I'm gonna have to try to find the phone if I want my baby to live. This is all for her.
I force my arms to my sides, feeling the crispness of dried blood coating the bedspread. I push on my elbows, knowing the best is yet to come.
Folding my stomach to sit up makes the white dots reappear but I fight them, force them back. Tears spring to my eyes but I breathe, concentrate on the open door. I daren't look down, knowing the mess I would encounter, but I manage to wrap a sheet around my body to cover up my nakedness. I don't really remember how I got in this state but I also don't really want to think about it.
Once upright the pain subsides a tiny bit so it's possible for me to walk if I shuffle and take short breaths. Indy watches my slow progress to the door and out.
The only phone that's connected is downstairs, in the living room. I make it down the stairs without too much of a hitch.
"Hello…I need an ambulance. My daughter is hurt." The operator assures me the ambulance will be here very soon. I think my quick breathing scared her.
I need to get Indy downstairs, she needs the help more than I do. My stomach is probably fine.
"India, come here. Please sweetie, come down. I'm here baby." I can hear her crying and my instinct is to run up the stairs. I get to the second step and my knees dissolve. I drift off to the sound of banging at the door.
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"Sam! Open up! Please, I need to speak to you! SAM!" I yell into the wood.
"Excuse me sir, are you looking for the woman who lives there?" A young man appears at my elbow and I nod. "I don't know if she's there. He left about half an hour ago. Last night, I heard the baby crying a lot, lots of banging and shouts. I nearly called the cops-it was 5am but it stopped." He frowns. "Is there anything wrong?" Suddenly an ambulance careers round the corner and 2 men run out.
"Is this 24 Walnut Drive?" I nod and the next-door neighbor frowns.
"Erm…I think something is definitely wrong." Alex wobbles a little as I bash my shoulder against the doorframe. Luckily for me the wood is old and rotten so it literally peels away and I fly into the hallway. The EMT's follow me in, peering into the kitchen.
The smell of alcohol and weed hangs in the thick air, making me choke. I round the corner to the staircase and nearly vomit.
Sam is laid on the bottom step of the staircase wrapped in a bloodstained sheet. Her face is gaunt and as pale as the sheet she is clutching to. Her once honey coloured hair is more sludge coloured and also laced with streaks of blood. Where the sheet is pulled away from her body I can see thin slices in her flesh. Suddenly the anger boils to the surface and I'm about to scream when I see a movement on the other side of the staircase.
Hidden behind the curve of the banister, India is stood half way up the stairs with tears drying on her cheeks. I call for the EMT's and while they delicately deal with Sam's withered and barely breathing form, I try to coax the little girl towards me.
"Hey sweetie, do you want to come down here? Mommy's sick but we'll make her better." She steps down a few steps, cradling her left wrist strangely. "Is your wrist hurting?" She nods. "If you come here I'll fix it for you." She stares at me, frightened but I smile gently and she steps down the last few stairs. I hold my hand out to her and she grabs my index finger. My first encounter with my daughter is perfect.
I slip my hands under her arms and lift her gently so I can carry her outside. On the way I grab a small coat I guess to be hers and the EMT's cram us into the rig. Alex holds Sam hand the whole time and I feel like crying-the first sight of his mother in over 2 years and she's like this.
India falls half asleep in my arms, refusing to be looked over by Jorge. I hate to think this tragedy has let me find my daughter. Now the woman I love's life hangs in the balance and I am helpless all over again.
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People rushing left to right
There's pretty faces left to right
I'm just frozen staring into space
Faster than the speed of light
I'm holding on, I'm holding tight
Cause stars are gonna crash into this place
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