Drabble - Birth - Sequel toTears
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Drabble - Birth - (Sequel to tears) - Sam’s P.O.V.
“Kiss me...” Brigitte whispered. I knew then that she would die. It didn’t matter how hard she tried to convince me that she was going to try to live; she was giving up.
“Of course” I whispered. How could I deny Brigitte her dying wish, especially as it was a wish that I shared. I moved her hair out of her face, wanting to see her one last time before she died. However her face held all the pain and fear that she was in, and so I kissed her quickly before the image of her dying face could be burnt into my memory forever. She tried to kiss me back, but her attempts where weak. I wrapped my arms around her to bring her closer. Her arm’s twitched as she tried to put her arms around me, but she obviously didn’t have the strength. I felt tears of grief sting my eyes, but fought them back. I couldn’t upset Brigitte in her dying moments. “Love you Brigitte,” I muttered. I wanted her to know that I loved her before she died. I felt her lips curve upwards.
“I love you too Sam,” she said. I caught a glimpse of her eyes then. They were darting around frantically, as if she couldn’t see me.
“Brigitte!” I cried, hoping to keep her with me. But her eyes closed. I sat up and pulled her with me. Her chest was still rising and falling, but ever so slightly. “Come on Brigitte!” I cried, shaking her. She didn’t respond. “You can’t die on me Brigitte...” I whispered, finally letting my tears fall. Her chest movements were starting to slow down. I pulled her against my chest and held her close as she slipped away. Brigitte died in my arms that night. Nothing was ever the same after that.
Her mom invited me to her funeral, but I couldn’t go. It’s not that I didn’t want to, I really did, I wanted to say goodbye to her, but I just couldn’t do it in front of her family. Pam might have been able to pretend that I wasn’t the local drug dealer, but I don’t think anyone else would be able too. Especially not her father. I’m sure to him, I was just a cherry hound that was after his daughter. I wish he didn’t think that.
But just because I didn’t go to the funeral, didn’t mean I wasn’t there. The morning of her burial, I hid in a tree by her pre-dug grave, and I watched from a distance as her coffin was lowered into the ground. Not many people attended. It was obviously just her immediate family and a few others. I recognised a few teachers, but that was about it. It was only then I realized how alone in the world Brigitte must have been.
It was growing dark when everyone finally left, but I waited until darkness had completely taken over the graveyard before I lowered myself from the branches. I was silent as I approached the mound of earth, topped with a single wreath and a few scattered bunches of flowers. I couldn’t think of what to say, and I knew even if I could, I wouldn’t be able to say it. It felt like my heart was in my throat, and I didn’t dare open my mouth for fear that it would leap away and never return. In my hand I held some monkshood I’d found in a craft store. It felt fitting that I should leave some at her grave. It was after all, what brought us together. Tied to the stem was a note, that simply stated ‘An eighths fifty’ they were the first words I ever said to her. I stood at the grave for what felt like hours, and just stared. I couldn’t bring myself to move, to think... nothing. The idea of doing anything hurt too much. Finally I set the monkshood down, separate from all the other flowers, and walked away, uttering two simple words as I departed. “Bye Brigitte,” When I returned home, I drank and drank, until I passed out.
The next few months were a blur. I went to work, I dealt, but I wasn’t ever there.... I was gone. I discovered the only time I was ever happy was when I had sex - and not because of the obvious reason, but because when I was having sex, I could imagine I was with Brigitte. Not so much in a sexual way. But just with her. And that made me happy. - And so I had a lot of sex. I never remembered the girls, never asked for their names but I didn’t regret any of it. I needed them, needed what they gave me. They in return obviously needed something from me. And if they wanted something more? Well that was their problem, because I always made it clear that it was just sex.
It was a year to the day that I met Brigitte that she came to me. I was at home alone, looking at the Lycanthrope picture that Brigitte had once dropped at my van when I heard a knock at the door.
“FUCK OFF, WE’RE CLOSED,” I cried. I really didn’t want to be disturbed, not now, not today. The person outside however, decided to knock again. “Fuck! Fucking idiots, can’t they understand fucking English?” I muttered as I headed to the door. The person knocked again. “I’m coming!” I yelled as I ripped open the door. “Didn’t you fu- oh...” The woman in front of me was vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t remember her name. I’d fucked her a few times since Brigitte’s death. However it had been a while since I’d seen her, and in that time, she’d got a bit... bigger.
“Sam, can I come in?” she asked. Shit, I couldn’t turn her away! I held out my arm and moved to let her past. She sat down on my bed, and attempted to say something, but failed.
“It’s mine isn’t it,” I said, pointing at her swollen stomach. She nodded.
“I’m not keeping it. I’m giving it up for adoption. Well, I think I am. After thinking long and hard over all this, I decided you should get a say in what happens to the kid.” She said, her voice completely lacking in emotion.
“Why didn’t you just get rid of it?” I asked. She laughed.
“I found out too late, if you must know. What you think I choose to put my body through this?” she said as she tugged her top over her stomach. I shrugged. She laughed again and lit a cigarette.
“Won’t that hurt the baby?” I asked, eyebrow raised. She took a drag before she answered.
“Like I care, once the fucker is out of me, it’s out of my life... but if you want the thing and don’t want me to smoke, I won’t.” She said.
“I... I... don’t know...” I whispered. And honestly, I didn’t. Was I ready for a kid? Now? In the state I was in? Did I even want a kid? Maybe it would give me a reason to live... but maybe it would fuck up my life even more. “I guess not,” I said, after a few minutes of silence.
“So you’ll sign the papers then? The kid will be put in care when it’s born until they can find someone to adopt it. I can’t be bothered with meeting perspective parents... let the state fucking deal with it,” the girl said. Her words seemed a little harsh... but I was in too much shock to care.
“Um... yeah... but maybe, maybe I’ll sign the papers when it’s born. You know, in case I change my mind or something.” I muttered, looking down to avoid seeing her reaction.
“Whatever,” she said. God how I wished I could remember her name. “If you keep it, keep my name out of it,” she said. And with that, she got up and walked out.
There was only a month between Leah’s due date (she’d left a note on my bed with her name and number... thank god!) and the day she came to me, which really didn’t give me a lot of time to think. To be honest, I really didn’t think... I didn’t want too. The idea that I had a kid on the way was too much to handle and so before I knew it, Leah’s due date arrived. In fact, it came and it went without me realizing. It wasn’t until Leah called me to say that she hadn’t gone into labour that I noticed.
It was snowing that day. Leah had packed up and come to the greenhouse a few days earlier at my request. I wanted to be there when the kid was born. I figured that would be the deciding moment for me. When I saw my child for the first time.
“ARGH! Out of all the fucking days this kid could come, it had to be today!” Leah screamed as another contraction hit. “WE JUST HAD TO BE FUCKING SNOWED IN!” I attempted to comfort her, but she pushed me away and continued to pace around the room. It was true, we were snowed in. I’d called 911 when her waters broke, but no ambulance could get to us the snow was so deep.
“Come on Leah, at least let me hold your fucking hand!” I yelled. She’d been in labour for a few hours now, and constantly complained about the pain, but wouldn’t accept my support.
“JUST GET ME SOME FUCKING DRUGS!” She screamed, and, with that, she started to rain my drawers and cupboards. I ran to her and pulled her away, which resulted in her elbowing me in the face. I heard my nose crack, and felt blood pore down my face, but I felt no pain... might have been the shock, or because I was high.
“FUCK LEAH! LOOK WHAT YOU FUCKING DID! Now get away from the drawers, and go and lay the fuck down!” I screamed. I must have scared her, because she did just that. I walked into my bathroom and cleaned myself up. I wasn’t bothered about my nose being broken, especially since I couldn’t get to hospital, just about the baby. I was still undecided about what to do, but part of me knew that the baby was what was important right now.
“SAM... SAM... GET IN HERE!” Leah cried as I rummaged in my laundry basket for some cleaner clothes.
“WHAT?” I cried back, thinking it would just be another contraction.
“I NEED TO PUSH... AND I THINK THE BABY’S HEAD IS CROWNING!” she screamed. Shit. I ran back into the room, and it was immediately obvious that now was the time that the baby was going to be born. Leah held out her hand to me. “I need you...” she cried. I took her hand and supported her through the birth. It didn’t take long before we heard the screams of our newborn. Leah immediately dropped back, and, with no emotion at all said “Just cut the cord and get this over with, I wanna go home...” I ignored her and gingerly approached the crying figure between her legs.
It was a girl... a beautiful baby girl that looked strikingly like me. The eyes, the facial features... everything, expect the hair. She had Leah’s hair. Leah’s hair was the same colour as Brigitte’s...
“Oh my god,” I whispered as I picked my daughter up. She went silent in my arms and simply started up at me. I knew right then and there that I was going to keep her. There was no way I was letting her go... never... my beautiful baby girl Brigitte.
Brigitte was 5 before I took her to her name-sakes grave. It was a warm spring day, and the first time I’d been to the grave in years. It was unattended now. Pam was in jail for Trina Sinclair’s murder, her husband had moved away, and Ginger was still declared ‘missing’. I felt bad for not visiting before, but I just couldn’t find the strength. One day however, young Brigitte had found a photo of the Fitzgerald sisters next to my bed. Being the curious young girl she was, she’d asked questions. So I’d brought her here.
“Hey Brigitte,” I whispered, placing freshly picked monkshood at the grave. “I’m sorry I didn’t visit before... it’s been hard...” I wiped away a few tears. “I can’t stand the idea of you being under there, dead, alone...” I had to stop to pull myself together. “But my daughter wanted to know about you... so I brought her here. I didn’t know what else to do Brigitte, I didn’t know what to say...”
“You loved her, didn’t you daddy,” my daughter whispered. She scared the life out of me. I was so wrapped up in talking to Brigitte that I forgot she was there. I nodded.
“She was the love of my life my little Bee... but she died before we could get a chance to be together... I still think about her everyday... always actually...” I whispered. “But she loved me, and that’s all that matters I guess. I probably would be with her right now if it wasn’t for you...” My daughter wrapped her arms around me as finally, I broke down completely.
“You’ll be with her again one day daddy,” she whispered. I didn’t answer, I couldn’t, because over her shoulder I saw her. Brigitte. It was just a brief glimpse, and then she disappeared. But in the few seconds that she was there, she nodded and mouthed the words ‘one day...’ I knew then that she was watching over me, and that indeed, one day, we would be together again.