New Chapter! That last one was a doozy, wasn't it. This also has a warning for a birth scene, it's not real graphic, just rather painful. Just a warning. Also, I wrote this in a slightly different style, so tell me what you think. :)

Amelia lay in the boat, still, staring at the sky. She could not feel anything, and was only aware of the sky above her, bright blue with a dash of white clouds, as though a painter had added them as an afterthought. There was no pain, just a deep feeling of lonely emptiness. She stared at the sky, then closed her eyes, pitying the child she was carrying, because it would likely never see this world. It was not as though she would survive this.

She felt herself slipping into unconsciousness and welcomed the emptiness, the neutral darkness that felt nothing, meant nothing, and did nothing. As she slipped away, her last conscious thought was, I love you, Arthur.

The dark-skinned boy walked along the beach, searching for anything useful that might have washed ashore. One could find all sorts of things, if one just looked, and the village was always looking for more. The sea was quiet today, but he hoped there had been a storm further out, so he could find something good. He never found anything interesting. All the other boys did, but all he ever found was driftwood. Speaking of driftwood, there was a huge chunk floating just off shore. It was huge. The village could probably use it for building.

He waded out into the waves and began to swim towards the driftwood. As he got closer, it began to look less and less like driftwood, and more and more like a small boat. He reached it and pulled himself up into it, shocked to find a pale, blonde woman, lying in it. This was new. This was definitely interesting. He began guiding the boat with his hands, turning it into the tides so it was gradually brought into shore. He dragged it up onto the beach, then glanced at the woman laying in it.

She was breathing, but very lightly, and her skin, though pale, was peeling. She was also incredibly thin and she was wearing thin, filthy rags. She was covered in a light coating of salt, and he assumed she must have been at sea for a while. The most amazing thing, though, was her stomach, which bulged most unnaturally. She looked quite sick.

He frowned and picked her up out of the boat. She was lighter than he expected, and most of the weight was concentrated in her bulging stomach. Leaving the boat, he carried her back to the village. The moment he entered people began running to him. They asked him what was going on and he told them what had happened. He was soon surrounded by a crowd of men and boys, curious about this strange woman. Then, the matron of the village pushed through, thoroughly irritated. She told him to follow her and she led him to her house. She instructed him to lay the woman down on one of the mats, then shooed him away. She shut the door and he had no choice but to leave.

The matron examined the girl. She had obviously been through quite a lot. It was amazing she was pregnant at all, let alone as far along as she was. She sighed and began collecting herbs. The girl's skin was in terrible condition, and it was probably only making it worse for the rest of her body.

She gently began removing the rags from her body, then gave her a thorough, if gentle wash. She applied a poultice to the most severe injuries and sunburns. She found an old robe and wrapped the girl into it, then covered the girl with a blanket. She also made a thin gruel and began force-feeding the girl. The girl was still alive, enough to swallow the liquid being forced down her throat. The girl did not wake, or even stir, the whole time.

The matron began to worry that she might never wake. And, from the looks of it, she was probably four to five months along. Poor thing, she had had quite the rough time. Probably the victim of pirates. Those men were insatiable bastards, using women like toys, and throwing them away when no longer fun. She scowled and brushed some hair out of the girl's face. But, at least she was safe here.

Amelia took a deep breath and realized that the air was different. It was drier, not quite as salty. She also realized that, though there was dull pain, there was no real pain anywhere. She opened her eyes and saw a series of wooden beams above her. She tried to swallow, but her throat felt like sandpaper. She moved her arm and felt her abdomen, which felt tight and swollen. She lifted her head slightly and saw that her stomach was huge. She smiled slightly. It seemed like the baby was okay. She let her head fall back and then looked to her side and realized that she was in some sort of hut. The door open and a dark shape was silhouetted against the sunlight.

Her mouth went dry and she began to panic. The shape moved forward and she squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the pain. Nothing happened. She opened her eyes and saw an older woman, dark with grey hair, bending over a fire pit. The door was closed. She relaxed slightly. She opened her mouth to speak, but all that came out was a low croak. The woman turned around and smiled, her few teeth white against her skin.

She picked up a cup and poured liquid into it, then brought it over. She gently helped Amelia sitting up, Amelia cringing at the contact, then helped Amelia drink and swallow the water. Amelia gave a small sigh of relief. "Where am I?" she asked in a quiet voice, throat still rough.

The woman looked at her, raised and eyebrow and smiled. She said something in a friendly tone, but Amelia had no idea what language it was in. She shook her head. "Amelia," she said pointing to herself.

The woman nodded. "Oma," she said, pointing to herself. She got up and served a bowl of something out of the pot hanging over the fire pit. She handed it to Amelia, who looked at it and made a face. She looked at Oma who mimed drinking it. Amelia sighed and raised it to her lips, hands trembling slightly. She swallowed the bland gruel and then lay back down. Oma took the bowl and smiled at Amelia. Amelia smiled weakly and then closed her eyes, letting sleep take her again.

Four months later, Amelia could sit up and eat on her own, but was bed-ridden because of the baby. Amelia had no idea where she was, and had not met anyone but Oma. And, honestly, she did not care. She trusted Oma, but she was frightened of meeting anyone else. She did not want to experience that kind of pain again. And, though she had blocked most of the memories, the fear was still there.

She was sitting up, doing some mending that Oma had given her, when she felt a sharp pain in her abdomen. She gasped. It happened again, sharper, and she cried out. The door flew open and Oma hurried in. Amelia clenched her fists and gasped again as the pain happened again. Oma pushed her flat onto the bed and Amelia tried not to cry in fear. It hurt so much.

The pain happened again and she threw her head back, giving another cry. Then she felt a warm liquid staining her legs and screamed. She began to thrash, sobbing in fear. Oma placed a cool hand on her head and said something soothing. Amelia tried to relax, but the pain kept coming. Amelia struggled against the pain, but felt her lower muscles contracting. She tried to breathe and forced herself to remember where she was, and what was going on. She closed her eyes and screamed again as she clenched every muscle in her body.

Oma whispered something in her ear again and Amelia continued pushing. Then, with a final scream, the pain stopped, becoming a dull throb and she heard a sound that made her heart leap. The cry of a baby. Amelia felt tears fill her eyes. Oma brought the child over, wrapped in clean rags, and handed the baby to Amelia. She checked the gender and smiled. It was a boy, as she had thought so long ago.

He had bright blue eyes but barely any hair. She smiled and cooed at him. He made a little noise and she felt complete, something she had thought would have been impossible. He was perfect. Though wrinkled and pink, he was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

Oma patted her on the shoulder and Amelia looked up at the older woman, eyes glowing. Oma smiled and walked away. Amelia looked down at the baby, her baby, and smiled. "Welcome to the world, Alfred."

I am such a terrible person, no? Anyway, I hope you enjoyed. I decided to not have any real dialogue, because I wanted to try something different, and, being on a random island, it is very unlikely that the natives would be able to speak English. So, Amelia is getting better, and she has a little boy! ^^ Isn't that cute?

Also, I've never been pregnant/had kids, so I tried to go off what I knew, but if you guys have any suggestions, I'd love it.

Also, she had a little panic attack because the pain reminded her of being raped, slightly...so, poor Amy.

Please Review! Amelia's pain is basically over, so, be happy. I won't be too cruel to you people anymore. Thanks for all your wonderful reviews, and sticking with me.