Here's the second chapter. Hope you guys like it. This story is rated T, but this is a slightly darker part of my story.
Ten years later……
I walked in the dark. My feet against the black rock, scraping every time they hit a jagged corner. I welcomed the pain. Nothing could hurt more than my loss.
The loss of my beautiful baby.
I remembered everything that happened. The look on the doctors faces as they came to tell me. Tears streaking down my face before the words had even come out. 'Were sorry,' they had said, 'there was nothing we could do. It was a lung failure, that's all we know.' Then I had burst into tears and I hadn't heard anything else they had said.
Tears streaked down my face now as I remembered.
I stopped, my toes hung of the top of the cliff. I caressed the sharp edge with my big toe and winced when it went over something sharp.
I want my baby so bad. I had waited nine months. I'd runaway from my abusive husband, so I could bring up my child in a good environment. I wanted nothing more than to hold my baby to my chest, to stroke his perfect little cheek.
A loud sob burst through my lips and my tears multiplied.
Well, I thought, If my baby couldn't be with me, then I'll go be with him. I closed my eyes and my hands clenched into hard fists.
I smiled at the thought of seeing my baby again. Then I walked forward… and fell.
I screamed as I was pulled towards the earth. The fall only lasted a few seconds, but the jarring impact was thunderous. The second my body had hit the hard ground, I had felt the pain. Every part of me ached. My legs, my broken back and ribs, my neck, and my face.
I felt my hot blood spreading across my face, staining my hair and seeping into my clothes. Why hadn't I died. I should have died! The pain hurt so much, it should have killed me. I wanted to die. To escape this horrible pain!
I heard someone scream in the distance. I closed my eyes hoping whoever it was would leave me alone. Blackness slowly started to seep in. Parts of my body started to go numb and I tried to smile, but I couldn't find my lips.
I was vaguely aware of my surroundings and the fact that people were talking and I strained to here what they were saying.
"……really no point, she'll be dead within half an hour," A rough voice spoke.
"True. Should we just take her to the morgue? I don't think her wounds will heal," said a light female voice.
I didn't want to listen anymore, so I just let the slow blackness seep through my body.
Waiting for this madness to end
Hours seemed to pass as I waited to die – but in truth it was only minutes. I heard the doors to the morgue open and I could feel myself being pushed through.
"Poor girl," I heard the same female voice say.
I heard someone else sigh. Was it that man?
"Always have a soft spot, don't you Mary?"
"Yes I do," I heard her snap.
I didn't here the voices again, and I was afraid to open my eyes to see if they were still here. Before I could think about anything, anything at all – I heard a low gasp.
"Esme!" Said a smooth, pained voice, "No, no, no!!"
I gasped too – I would recognize that soft, smooth, velvety voice anywhere. Even though I hadn't heard that beautiful voice in ten years, I would know it anywhere.
I forced my eyes open; fighting the blackness that tried to keep them closed. And I was staring at his pained stricken face.
He lifted his hand and slowly placed it against my cheek; and I could hear his low uneven breathing as he looked over my broken body. I wanted to smile and say I was glad to see him before I died, but I couldn't find my lips.
Before my weak brain could register what was happing, I was being lifted very carefully and was in his marbled arms. My eyes closed slowly without my permission. I wanted to look at his face in my final moments. He'd finally came back, only to say goodbye to me.
Then I knew I was dead.
For the speed was horrifying. He was running faster than anything I had ever experienced. No human could possibly run this fast. It was insane
Was he an angel? Was he taking me to my baby? Would he –
"You'll be okay. I'll save you," he said, interrupting my thoughts. His voice surprised me, it sounded pained – almost tortured. Then the panic hit me.
What did he mean by he'll save me? Was he not going to give me my baby?! Was going to try and save my broken body? …my broken heart?
I tried to break free of his strong hold, but I couldn't even feel my body anymore. The flying sensation came to an abrupt stop, and I could hear his low uneven breaths as he laid me down on something soft.
It was quiet for a very long minute, then I heard his pained voice at my ear, "I'm sorry." And then I screamed…Something sharp slashed across my throat and my wrists. Cutting deep into my skin.
Every part of me was on fire. Every inch of my body burned and I wanted to die! Didn't he see the fire? Why was he letting it burn me?! Why couldn't he just let me die in peace!
Jumping off a cliff was nothing compared to this. I would gladly jump off the edge a thousand times and be happy, if it would stop the burning.
I screamed again. Louder this time, as the scorching fire in my body grew stronger – burning its way through my veins…..towards my heart.
"If you are going through hell, keep going."
- Sir Winston Churchill (1874-1965)