Alena (ah-LEY-nuh): derived from Greek origin, Alena is one who provides those in which surround her presence with a certain, and serene, form of light within the depths of darkness in which may be percieved as impossible to escape.
And she was just that. Alena was my sense of light during one of the hardest, and most heart-wrenching periods of my life.
5 years ago, when I'd collapsed onto that hospital bed, and recieved nothing but remorseful looks and apologetic glances, I was sure that life as I knew it was nothing more than a substitution for the hell that lay below.
I was drained. Mentally....physically....emotionally. And as I came to, blinking in order to adjust my eyes to the harsh lighting of the hospital room that I'd recently been confined to, my eyes began to water. 6 months. 6 months into my pregnancy, I'd gone into labor. And given birth to two babies that had never even recieved the chance to take their first breaths. Never gotten the chance to feel the comfort of either their mother, nor father's arms.
I'd been slipping in and out of consciousness as I attempted to give birth, and had eventually collapsed onto the hospital bed, near death myself, as the umblical chords were cut. Although I had been slipping into a deep sleep, I was sure of one thing. I hadn't heard the cries of either of my children.
But when I'd awakened in the Houston hospital, sure that I'd never be able to continue after such a traumatic, near death experience, I had been met by the smile of my mother, who was seated in a nearby recliner, gently rocking a pink blanket back and forth as she softly hummed.
My eyes watered, and my vision blurred. I was sure I was dreaming. I'd given birth to two still borns. I was sure. Neither had cried.
But she stood, still rocking the pink bundle as she made her way over to my hospital bed. Without a second thought, I reached for the small being that she had cradled into the crevices of her arms, and without hesitation, she obliged, placing my entire life into my arms.
I was weak. But somehow, I'd managed to build up the strength to cradle the bundle to my chest.
"Isn't she beautiful?" My mother beamed at me as she sat near the edge of the bed. My eyes never left the small face that occupied the small pink blanket. I gently ran my finger over the small nose, allowing it to travel to her left cheek.
How could you possibly carry so much love for someone who you hadn't even met yet?
I gasped as the bundle let out a small sigh, never opening its eyes from the sleep in which it was envelpoed in.
"What's her name?" My eyes remained fixed on the precious being cradled in my arms.
"Alena."
I shot my mother a look, frowning. "A-what?"
She chuckled, gently running her fingers across the cheeks of the bundle.
"Alena. Torch of light in Greek."
I let my head rest onto the pillow behind me. "Please don't tell me you named my baby after one of your little Greek fantasies?"
"I think its fitting. You'll learn to love it."
And I did. Alena was my torch of light. She was my everything. And it took me a matter of about 3 seconds to realize that.
I later learned that since I'd endured so many problems during my pregnancy, due to stress related reasons, Alena would have to suffer. Not only was she born premature, but she would later be diagnosed as being mute. I cried, of course. But I did everything I could to express, and show how much I loved her. I'd recieved my certification in sign language, and was able to effectively communicate with my baby.
After being shot by my father, I'd left Atlanta for good, along with the people who'd previously occupied my life. Including Gio, the crew, and.....August.
August.
I hadn't spoken to him since that night at the hospital, and I hadn't told him that I was leaving Atlanta. After finding out about my dad, I didn't want to look him in the face. I couldn't. I felt hurt....betrayed. Especially by Gio and the rest of the crew. They were supposed to be my family. And I felt stupid for ever putting so much trust in them. My mother divorced my father, and everything was hectic. Cutting off all ties, I'd made my way into the heart of Houston, in search of change. And I'd found it. It was one of the hardest times of my life. Emptying most of my savings account, I'd settled in Texas, determined to make a better lie for Lena (pronounced LEE-nuh) and I.
And somewhere along the way, I'd met Marcus. He was everything I could have ever asked for. Loving, compassionate, and goal-oriented. Not to mention that he was great with Alena.
After finishing my way through cosmetology school and recieving my license, I'd pursued night school in attempts of acquiring my degree in business. I'd be lying if I'd said it wasn't difficult, but with the help of Marcus, I was finally able to open my own salon. I'd met Marcus about 4 and a half years ago....on very bad terms, if I correctly recall.
"I'm not paying for this. $150 for laughing gas? I didn't even ask for it!"
I ranted to the woman at the receptionists' desk of the dental clinic in which I'd just recieved services from....and had averaged out to a total of nearly $400.
"Ma'am, either you're going to have to pay the bill in full, or make payments."
"I wanna speak to someone of higher authority."
Just as the woman was about to get smart with me, a deep voice sounded from behind me.
"What seems to be the problem, Trisha?"
The woman at the desk sent me an accusing look. "One of our patients doesnt want to pay the total for the services she recieved today."
I mugged her before turning around. "Excuse me, sir, but-"
I stopped mid-sentence as I was met by one of the most handsome men I'd ever come across.
I cleared my throat, attempting to gather my thoughts as he stcuk his hands into the pockets of his white coat, smirking. Somehoew, I'd managed to find the words I had been searching for.
"I need to speak to someone in charge."
He opened his arms, chuckling. "Well, you're looking at him."
"I can't pay this bill. It's entirely too much. And I didn't request most of the services that I was charged for."
"I see. Well, I'm sure we can get all this straightened out. Over dinner, of course."
And just like that, I'd fallen for his charm. It turned out that Marcus owned the clinic, along with a chain of others. And together, we became a sort of power couple. Money was never an issue, and for that I was grateful. At 25, I was really beginning to piece my life together, with his help. He was a few years older than me, around 6 to be exact. But he was exactly what I needed to stabilize my life.
"You sure you'll be okay?"
Snapping out of my thoughts, I nodded at Marcus, who was staring at me with a worried expression.
"Yeah....yeah, I'll be fine."
He sighed before looking me in the eyes, and placing a tender kiss on my forehead. "Alright. I'll be out there within the next two days, after I get everything settled with the business. Call me when you land, okay?"
I nodded, and he kissed the top of Lena's head before enveloping me into a hug.
"I love you."
"Love you too." I glanced towards the gates as our flight was called once again.
Within the next few hours, I would be re-introduced to what I'd tried so desperately to leave behind.
And I was no where near ready.
Marcus in MM.
