Just a short one... Sorry!
There were photographs I wanted to take, things I wanted to show you. Sing sweet lullabies, wipe your teary eyes. Who could ever love you like this?
Her sobbing body draped across her husbands lifeless form, crying against his chest that only moves because machines keep it doing so. "I'm so sorry Mrs Connor, there was nothing we could do." The biggest regret of her life is that he died not believing she loved him. Yet still, she repeats that same mistake again, and it's much too close to home.
...
"I don't love ya." But she does, she loves him more than she could have deemed possible and that is why her legs collapse beneath her as his body is wheeled away, that is why a part of her dies with him too. That song will always remind her of him now. "Oh I don't love you, but I always will."
...
Laughter. Thats what she remembers most about the last time. "I guess I'll be seeing ya." "Not if I see you first." What measly last words. She should have thanked her back. Thanked her for never giving up, for being her diamond in a sea of rocks. She should have told her she'd look after her left behind husband because she would, she had. She always will. Another friend, another life that has touched her, snatched away.
...
Pain, agony, emptiness, loss. Her bump hadn't had a chance to grow and now her baby was taken cruelly away. She's barely said hey, she's barely said hello and now she's saying something else, she's saying goodbye. The conversation cut short, now she's saying farewell.
...
Memories haunt Carla as she screams out in agony in the emptiness of her new house. Hers and Peter's new house. She knows this feeling too well. Something being so in reach and then just.. not. Gone. No explanation, no reasons, just a huge gap, a hole.
Unfillable. Irreplaceable.
It's too early. It's too soon, her little girl isn't strong enough yet, she's not ready. A few more weeks, Carla begs. Just hold on a few more weeks. But she knows begging is futile because water soaks the floor around her and pain grips her very being. This baby is waiting for no one.
"Peter!" Carla screeches and yet she does not know why because he isn't there. No one is there, "Please someone help us, help my baby." She is crying endlessly and she wishes she could hold herself together long enough to crawl across the floor but the pain is too much. She needs to reach her phone, just get some help, be the strong one.
But she isn't strong. She never was.
That is why everyone always leaves, one way or another. Everyone leaves because she is not good enough and she cannot truly blame them. Her daughter is doing as her sister did and pressing eject before she too can be damaged beyond repair.
She has made it to seven months and sometimes she could wake up and not panic, not hold her breath until she felt a kick or a wiggle. Rarely though. Because everyday she had woken she had been consumed with this new life. Her new home with Peter. Their own house with a nursery and a spare room for Simon just five minutes from the street. Decorating and new furniture. The nursery is nearly ready now.
Awaiting an arrival that will never come home.
She cannot move now, the agony in her stomach as she practically feels the life leaving her just too much to handle. She lays on her side on the newly tiled kitchen floor and she cries. Carla holds the teddy she had been about to place in the nursery as though a thief were about to take it from her. The first thing they had brought their daughter, something so precious that now seemed so futile. She cradles it to her chest as she cries in agony and loss.
"Baby, baby girl please just hang on. We can do this." Her voice is broken, so believing she is a ready too late.
Carla doesn't realise her dress is now seeped with blood, or rather she does but she cannot fathom what it means.
She just wants the pain to end now and she does not mean physically because she is too numb to feel that any longer. She wants Peter to hold her hand and tell her that their baby will be okay, that this is just a bad dream like all the others but he can't because he isn't there and this isn't a dream.
This is her reality.