Sorry it took me so long to update. I'm actually in a school play, which opens last week. Which means I'm at school until 7:30 every night. But, I've been getting an overwhelming amount of pleas for me to update, so I kicked it into high gear. As always, thanks muchos for reading my stories, and all the positive feedback. But more feedback is always appreciated!
Making this trip so many times a day was something Elizabeth was not going to miss. She gripped the hand rail firmly as she carefully made her way down the stairs, one at a time. Her belly was making it extremely hard to stay balanced.
Mary never troubled me like this, Elizabeth thought. Every half an hour or so, she'd have to make her way to the bathroom, which was located outside. Though, I didn't carry her this long, did I?
No, she'd given birth to tiny, blue-eyed Mary Alice when she was only six and a half months along. Now, with little Cynthia, she was due any day, and the baby was lying right on her bladder, it seemed.
It was the beginning of December, and frost was sapping the life out of the vegetation. The wooden porch was especially slippery and cold, so Elizabeth made her way across very slowly, planting each foot firmly before moving the other. It usually took her near ten minutes to reach the outhouse, another two to empty her bladder, and ten again to get back inside. These trips happened more often in the middle of the night than in the daylight.
Elizabeth yawned as she made her way out of the outhouse, and back towards the house. Going up the porch steps was always the most difficult part; if you slipped going down, you fell on your back, but if you slipped going up, your stomach hit the stairs. And that was where Elizabeth's precious hope hid away, biding her time before she left the womb to make Elizabeth's life much brighter.
So, Elizabeth used extreme caution while climbing those three or four steps up the porch. She carefully placed each foot as close to the next step as possible, as she gripped the handrail for support.
All this time, up stairs little Mary Alice was tossing and turning in her sleep. Sweat made the silky fine black hair stick to her face, twisted in some pain she saw in her dreams. They were always more like nightmares than anything else, her dreams, yet Mary never once complained. She didn't know any different than the nightmares, so why should she fuss over them?
Her tiny body grew still, and her perfect featured face went blank. She stayed this way for several moments, before…
Downstairs, Elizabeth was just about to undertake the last, steep step when she heard the piercing cry of her daughter, a floor above. Instinctively, Elizabeth threw her head back, towards the origin of a sound, and let go of the handrail in surprise. In doing so, she lost her balance. A startled cry escaped her lips as she tried desperately to grasp the handrail, but it was too late. Elizabeth fell backwards, hitting her back on three steps, her head colliding with the frozen stone walk way with a resounding crack.
Mary, of course, knew what had happened; this was why she had uttered the scream. She vaulted from her little bed and raced down the hallway into her father's room. "Daddy!" she screamed, as her fists closed on the front of his pajamas, and her arms shook the heavy form with all her might. "Daddy, help Mother!"
Nicholas's eyes flew open at once, but he was disoriented and confused. "Mary? What… what's going on?"
Tears poured out of Mary's eyes as she tugged her father's hand towards the door. "Mother fell outside! Help her!" Comprehension seeped through Nicholas's brain. He wrenched his hand away from Mary's and he ran, with all the speed he had, down the big oak stairs and towards the backdoor. He wrenched the thing open, pulling it from its hinges partly, and froze at the sight before him.
Mary had been right. There Elizabeth was, lying half on the stairs, half off, her head bleeding on the walkway, her legs bent on the stairs. The most startling thing, however, was the blood slowly flowing from between her legs. Nicholas stifled a cry of horror as he flew forward towards his unconscious wife. He felt for her pulse and upon finding it, though it was terrifyingly weak, screamed the name of the maid, whose apartments were next to the back door. It took what seemed like an eternity for the maid to show up at the door, "Sir, what's happ- oh, Jesus, Mary and Joseph!" the young woman exclaimed as she laid eyes on the frozen form of the mistress of the house.
Nicholas was still bent over, attending to his wife's bleeding. He didn't look up as he ordered Anna to run to the Doctors house, which she did obligingly. Meanwhile, he scooped his injured wife up in his arms and carried her to his own room, where Mary stood, frozen, where he had left her. He called her name out, and asked her to move. She didn't respond, however, and he didn't wait for her to. When he tried to nudge past her, he bumped into her, and she fell to the floor, without resistance. Nicholas looked down and caught sight of her face; blank and completely void of emotion, Mary's eyes stared straight ahead, with no sign she had even noticed falling. Nicholas hurried his still unconscious wife to the bed, then turned and scooped his tiny, comatose daughter up, and took her into the nursery. By the time he had returned to his room, which was located across the house from the nursery, the maid was back with the faithful doctor, who was busy staunching the flow of blood. Upon his entry, the Doctor turned around from his work, and motioned Nicholas to the bed side.
In one breath, not sparing much time, the Doctor briefed Nicholas on Elizabeth's condition: the blood from her head was from a shallow, clean cut from the impact of her head against the path, though the blood flowing from between her legs was much more serious. "The baby isn't hurt, I don't think. She fell on her back, not her stomach, God be thanked. But it'll be a dangerous business for her, bringing this baby into the world. It's already a miracle she hasn't gone into labor yet, but she will very, very soon, so let's make ready."
Nicholas nodded and followed the Doctor's instructions perfectly. After everything had been prepared, the two men hurried to Mary's side, leaving the maid with Elizabeth. The tiny girl lay just as Nicholas had left her. Her eyes hadn't even closed; Nicholas was reminded of a wax figure.
The doctor ran a series of questions by Nicholas, all of which Nicholas answered as best he could. While the doctor was working on Mary, Nicholas paced to and fro. After the examination, the Doctor turned to Nicolas and began forming some theories as to what was wrong with little Mary. "Shock," he began, "is common in children who witness something truly, well, shocking. Their minds shut…"
Both of the men's heads whipped around as Mary started to whimper and then to move. Her eyes pressed together so firmly, the wrinkles created seemed to reach her eyebrows. She bit her lip till it bled; her hands clutched the bed sheets with an iron like force. Her legs kicked out at invisible beings and her cries began to gain volume.
Nicholas turned towards the Doctor, panic invading his voice, "What's going on?", but the Doctor could not answer. Usually, patients went numb during shock, but Mary seemed terrified, on the edge of hysterics. He had no explanation for it.
No, the Doctor could not have known what was troubling Mary, for it was all in her mind, yet it did not come from her mind. Mary was having visions of what was to come, and those visions were so dark, so horrifying, they were near torture for Mary. She lay there, unable to move, forced to see things she did not even want to imagine; her future, black and dismal; and alone.
The two men were in the midst of trying to arouse Mary from her nightmare, when Anna entered the room, out of breath for running. Her news was urgent: Elizabeth had awakened, and not long after, her water had broken. The baby was on her way and the Doctor was needed immediately. Nicholas insisted on coming too, finally making the choice between his beautiful wife and his troubled daughter. Anna was told to stay behind.
No sooner had the door closed behind the Doctor and Nicholas than Mary's eyes had snapped open. Her hair stuck to her face with sweat, and her eyes were frantic as they searched the room. "Mommy?" she whimpered, as she rubbed her eyes again. In an attempt to calm the girl, Anna went over and hugged her, cooing news about the baby's imminent arrival.
"Your Mommy's going to have another baby now, love. You're to be a big sister in a few hours!" Anna had meant the news to be calming, but it was anything but.
Mary's head whipped around, her eyes widened to unbelievable size as what Anna said soaked into her tiny, though over developed, mind.
Then, Mary let out a shriek so loud; it caused the neighbors to wake. She threw herself out of her bed and raced towards the door. Anna tried to catch her, tried to calm her, but the little girl seemed to have summoned up an incredible speed from nowhere. She was across the house before Anna was down the hall. The door to Nicholas's room was shut and locked, so Mary began to throw herself against the door and scream even more. She uttered words in strings of sentences that didn't make sense. "Mommy… gone… baby… dark…NO!" she'd scream, her tiny frame becoming even more bruised with every assault on the door.
Inside, the midwife and Nicholas were helping Elizabeth to walk around, a method often used to draw the infant out using gravity. The doctor was writing things down, readying some hot water, and monitoring Elizabeth's progress every few minutes or so.
When they first heard the screams and the crashes, Elizabeth almost fell again from surprise. Only Nicholas's strength kept her vertical. The Doctor rushed over and opened the door, right as Mary was running at it again; the result being that the force Mary had been using carried her halfway into the room before she fell, with no door to stop her. "Mary, what in the…" Elizabeth started before a contraction took hold of her body and her face scrunched up in pain. Mary lay still on the floor for a second, before struggling to get up.
The Doctor rushed to the girl's side, helping her up gingerly. Mary had bit her lip in the fall, and blood was beginning to stream out. "What on earth is going on, girl?" the doctor asked briefly. He half let go of her, before grabbing her firmly after she began to sway. Her face had glossed over once more, her eyes rolled back into her head. Only her lips continued to move. Without sound, she seemed to be mouthing several words per second. The Doctor waved his hand in front of her face, he even gave her a tiny slap on the face, but nothing brought her out. He turned to Nicholas and asked, "Nicholas, can you please take your daughter back to her room and stay with her?"
Nicholas's eyes widened and his mouth opened and closed a few times before stating, "Absolutely not. My baby girl is going to be delivered any second and I won't miss it! Mary has these episodes all the time. Let her lie there! She's fine."
One look told the Doctor there was no reason for arguing with the man right now. He nodded his head, had Anna fetch a pillow for the girl, and turned his attentions once more to the woman in labor.
By now, Elizabeth's contractions were worsening. Every couple of minutes, her face would screw over in pain, and she'd have to rely solely on the support of her husband and the midwife to remain standing. The blood had a while ago stopped flowing from between her legs, so the Doctor was hopeful it was going to be a safe delivery.
Meanwhile, images were flashing through Mary's head: first, of a funeral, everyone dressed in black and crying over a woman with porcelain skin and strawberry hair, who lay motionless in a casket. Second, she saw her father holding a baby with green eyes and red hair, cooing softly as Mary sat in a corner, ignored. Then things seemed to go black. She felt cold, and afraid. She was alone, she felt. Then, a burning filled her body; it seemed to flow in ever vein. The pain was incredibly. Mary tried to scream, but she couldn't utter a sound. Then, the images were gone as quickly as they had come.
A child's mind is a simple thing. They relate things to happenings, to explain to themselves what is going on. Mary had just seen her mother's funeral, and her own miserable suffering, and she had also seen baby Cynthia. Now, in Mary's mind, Cynthia became the reason for all of the horrible things to come. It seemed to Mary that once Cynthia was born, Mary's life would never be happy again, and Elizabeth's would cease to exist.
It is with this knowledge that Mary made her next move. Without being noticed by any of the adults, she quietly stood from her makeshift bed, and pointed herself at her mother, who was slowly being led back to bed. Then, with amazing swiftness, she vaulted at her mother, screaming as loud as she could the reasons why she was doing this. Her tiny hands tightened into fists that hit Elizabeth's swollen belly. Again and again, Mary struck Elizabeth, hoping to kill the baby. Even at the size of a four year old, though she was years older, the little girl was strong beyond belief. All the adults were stunned momentarily, and stood frozen, dumbly observing the child beating her pregnant mother, who was gasping and crying for them to help.
Elizabeth was much to weak to simply push Mary away, so she pleaded with the men. After a few seconds, Nicholas threw his arm out and knocked Mary across the face, sending her flying across the room, where she crumpled into a pile.
Elizabeth let out a gasp and a cry of horror as a torrent of blood began to gush from between her thighs. The Doctor swore and quickly led Elizabeth to the bed. Nicholas was horrified. He wasn't sure if he had just killed his first daughter, and he was speechless at the amount of blood that was flowing; there hadn't been half that much when Mary was born and that had almost killed Elizabeth.
The Doctor calmly walked Elizabeth through the procedure. He was doing all he could for her, but her strength was going fast, and he feared the worse.
After hours of tears, sweat and blood, Elizabeth let out one last push, sending out one last gush of blood. Soon, a baby began to cry, and Nicholas hooted for joy. The Doctor handed the baby over to the midwife to be cleaned, but Elizabeth, who was quite faint, whispered her new daughter's name. The midwife turned to show Elizabeth the beautiful new life she had just brought into the world. A half smile flitted across the exhausted woman's face, and she reached her hand up towards the babe.
But it never made it there. With one last, shaky breath, Elizabeth's hand fell back to the bed, never to move again. The eyes widened and stared into nothing, never to see again.
Just like that, Elizabeth Brandon died, at the age of 29; killed by her daughter, who's actions were taken to save her mother's life.
