Floating at Night

4 I Should've Been a Ballerina

Three years ealier...

You could almost miss the small scar on Baker's side from the gunshot wound and the surgery that followed. He liked to show it off on the beach all summer while I stayed my hormonal, pregnant ass in the house. It was too hot for me and I couldn't handle the sweat.

"Don't you dare say anything about how tight my bikini is." I fel tlike a whale. I was only three months pregnant and I wasn't showing yet but all of the swelling in my belly was evident. It was like a cushion had taken up residency in my lower belly and in my ass. I can barely fit in any of my daisy dukes. "I was going to tell you how sexy you look," Baker mumbled against my skin, kissing my belly softly before bringing his lips up to mine. He pressed a firm but gentle kiss on my lips and I almost didn't pull back.

"Maybe we should go to the doctor and see if they can see yet..." Baker pleaded. He's been desparate to find out our baby's gender since it hit him that we were really going to have a baby. "I told you, Baker. We can't find out until the next appointment, in two weeks. You can wait until then." He pouted as he sprayed my back with sunscreen. It's been a lazy Saturday. He isn't working at the shop today, he begged for the day off.

"Is Ali coming to the beach with us?" He asked. "No, I told her I wanted some alone time with you." He nodded, grabbing our beach bag.

It's about a forty-five minute drive to the nearest beach, which isn't that bad. After packing everything in the car, we left just before lunch time.

"You want to stop by the store? We don't have any drinks packed." I nodded in agreement as we entered the town of Jacksonville. He opened my door and lead me inside, my pinky finger wrapped around his index finger. This is how I like to hold his hand, he let's me.

"That'll be three dollars." Baker paid and grabbed our drinks, holding the door open for me I realized something. "Baker... who is that by the car?" I asked. We stared for a second, then Baker approached the vehicle. "Hey... can we help you?" The guy jumped at Baker's voice, glancing between the car and him. "Shit... Gotta go!" He yelled, taking off in the direction of a van. Suddenly another man appeared, jumping from our car and sprinting after the other man. Baker's temper flared, he went after them.

We didn't know that there was a third guy hiding around the corner to ambush us.

He threw our drinks in the car and told me to buckle up as he started the engine, gassing it behind the van. We pulled out behind them, honking the horn. "Baker, I don't like this. Please stop. They didn't even get to take anything." He shook his head no, rounding around the bend that they just went around.

He slammed on breaks, but he wasn't quick enough.

A truck slammed into us from the side, pushing us off the road. All I heard was the sound of the tires squeeling and the sound of glass shattering as we began to roll.

Baker screamed my name, his hand reaching out and taking mine once we had stopped moving. I heard the truck and van leave.

Then I blacked out.

When I was a kid, my mother used to always say I had the body of a dancer. Naturally, I tried my best to add dance class into my busy schedule of being a five year old. I begged my mother to just let me try it. "My dear, you have the legs of a dancer, and the mind of a poet, and the attention span of a cocker spaniel." All of these things are true and more apparent to me now than they were then.

I should have tried a little harder. Maybe it would have taught me some control, some discipline. Then, I wouldn't be so willing to welcome the darkness as it surrounds me. Maybe then I would have the strength to pick myself up, to try again.

But what is the point of trying again when I didn't even want to try the first time.

"There was blood trickling down my legs as the EMT pulled me out through the window. I'd been stuck upside down for a while. "She's pregnant, ma'am! She's pregnant! You have to save the baby!" Baker screamed, ignoring the orders he was given to sit in the ambulance while they get me out. My mind took me back to an hour ago, when Baker decided to follow the man who broke into our car. If only he'd listen to me, if he'd listen maybe we could go back. We could be okay. "Baker. Stop. Baker. I don't like this." My voice was barely over a whisper as the EMTs tried to access what the damage was. I couldn't focus on any of it.

I was in and out the entire ride to the hospital. When I was conscious, I would hear Baker, but I couldn't find him. It sounded like he was a million miles away from me.

They say I slept for two days. I have no clue. My head is pounding as I pry my eyes open, the beeping of a machine is the only noise I hear. "Baker?" I called. No response. I blinked a few times trying to clear up my vision. I recognize that I'm in the hospital, but I don't recognize the room itself. "Baker?" I called louder, this time the door to my room opened, but it wasn't Baker that walked in. "Ali... where's Baker?" I asked, sitting up a bit. A sharp pain resonated through me as I did so, it only got worse when I hunched over on impulse. "Shh. Don't move too much, Noelle. You've been through a lot in the past few days. You just healed from the attack and now... you never told me you were pregnant." She sounded so sad. That's when a small, not so special, insignificant word jumped out at me. Were. "What do you mean 'were pregnant' Ali?" Her eyes go wide for a second, then she sits on the edge of the bed. "The wreck, it was just too much. Your baby... she didn't make it." My breathing had halted the second she started talking. I could feel it. As much as I know I couldn't feel the baby when I was pregnant I also know that now, I feel the emptiness of my uterus. "She? It was a girl?" I choked on a sob as Ali wrapped her arms around my sore body. She still never answered my question. Where's Baker?

My body went numb about three hours into crying. The nurses threatened to sedate me but I stopped screaming so they wouldn't. Maybe God knew I would be a shitty mother. Maybe I never deserved the peace. I deserved what happened to me and for it to ruin my life, I didn't deserve the light at the end of the tunnel that was my unborn child.

I was so sad that I couldn't even see straight. The grief overtook me like a spell. I was positive that if the doctors did an x-ray of my body at that exact moment, they would see that I had no bones, I was pure agony. I couldn't even bring myself to call Baker.

Ali explained to me that when the doctors couldn't save our daughter, they tried to calm him down the best they could. They begged him to sit by my bed and wait until I woke up. They begged and begged and he left.

He left me.

He told Ali that it was all his fault and that he couldn't do this anymore. That all he did was hurt me. He left and asked her to stay. Because he knew that I wouldn't survive the loss of this on my own.

I lost my baby and I lost the love of my life, all while I was sleeping in a hospital bed. Knocked out on an IV.

I wish I hadn't woken up.