Chapter 3 - End

Months come and go and they finally lead to my ninth month. Nine and a half months to be exact. The most important moment I've been waiting for...

It's so exciting yet so frightening!

I prepare myself for a relaxing stroll around the park on a warm, pleasant spring day when the thought occurs to me, Laura has to be there when I give birth. I need to have her there.

I dial her number quickly when I hear the most unfamiliar voice.

"Hello? Laura?"

"I-I'm sorry" the voice cries. "But she is, is not here anymore."

"Where is she?" I begin to panic. "What happened?"

A mixture of sobs and incomprehensible murmurs are spoken before I clearly hear her say," Sh-she died. She died l-l-last week o-o-of --"

I hang up the phone. My skin seems to fade in with the walls. An emotional pain sets in, devouring my insides like an insatiable creature who cannot be rid of it's greedy appetite. A rush of nausea and adrenaline accompanies this trauma, this guilt of not being with her on her last moments. Everything seems to return. The heartache, the abuse, the neglect. I quickly go to the park and take a stroll while gulping down a cold glass cola to rid of the anxiety. It's helpless. The one bond I've had in this world is gone, disappeared, shattered. A mirror without its reflection. A human without its shadow.

Suddenly, I feel a grope behind me. 

"Well if it isn't Mrs. Skittle Lips," he cackled. "Long time since I've seen you. I was going to pay you for another night but seeing that you're carrying such a burden on your stomach, it seems like I have to take my business elsewhere." He laughs while walking away.

Everything I've been holding back seems to boil up into a puddle of rage. My teeth clench, my fists coil, and my body shakes with a passionate rage. I let go. I walk towards him with a fierce grip of the bottle of cola and swing it down his head swiftly. The bottle breaks into hundreds of small shards stained with the blood of a corrupt man. He falls to the floor and almost like a reflex, pulls out a pistol. He aims it towards me and without remorse, shoots me twice. One in the chest and one in my leg. 

He gets up. "You w***e!" he says as he spits on my helpless body. I grab a shard of glass before he walks away and pierce it deeply into his leg. Twisting it, moving the shard side to side for maximum impact. He falls to the ground as a river of blood gorges out of the wound. I pull out my phone and dial 911. 

I can barely speak but I manage to say "Rushville Park. Entrance. Please. Please. Save my baby." 

"Madame! Do not worry. Stay with us! Ambulance will be there in less than 10 minutes. Just you wait."

"Thanks. Thank you. Very much." I said. And for the first time in my life. I stopped waiting.

Author's Note

It was fun experimenting with the story. Please review and thanks for reading!

Reviews

[Ranjita Ghosh Dasgupta]

hey it was nice..and at such a tender age, you write with such emotion and thoughts..thats admirable.