October 6th, 1998
The baby's screams echo through the hospital. They are shrill and loud; her mother pays them no heed. Instead, she holds out her arms for her baby girl, and once the babe is tucked safe against her mother's bosom she ceases her cries.
She gurgles happily and yawns, falling asleep promptly.
All is quiet.
Suddenly the babe awakes with a bloodcurdling cry. Her little chest heaves with short breaths, and tears stream down her face.
"Someone! Nurse! What's wrong with her?"
The nurses come running, beckoned more by the child's screams then her mother's. The other babies in the maternity ward begin to cry and soon it is a chorus of sobs. Her mother rocks her and attempts to sing to her child, but the crying only increases in volume. It can no longer be considered crying. The baby is screaming.
Her mother keeps singing through the panic clogging her throat; the panic that crawls from her stomach with the bile that rises. Tears sting the mother's eyes. Any longer and she will begin to bawl as well.
The nurses rush to the various babies around the room, but the head nurse takes the child out of her mother's arms. She runs down the hallway, the screams following after her.
The mother stares at her retreating back as the cries grow faint. A lady in the bed next to her laughs weakly, "Your girl's got a pair of lungs on her. She'll be trouble."
She just looks out into the hallway, peers into the silence, and wonders what could've made her daughter scream in such fright.
There is no doubt in the mother's mind; it was fear. Complete, unabashed terror.
The mother looks out into the empty hallway and wonders.
YOU ARE READING
J. (Discontinued)
HorrorSince J. was a baby girl her dreams would consist only of the Games. She's gotten used to them, even learned to enjoy them. But, she's always known they weren't real. A figment of her overactive imagination; as her therapists say. That is, until peo...
