We'll Be Watching You, Amber STORY ON HOLD!

She isn't mine

(Amber’s mum’s point of view….it is now six years earlier, and Amber has just been born.)

Chapter 3: A baby that I can’t give back

We just got back from the hospital, and I am exhausted. I just gave birth to my first baby girl, how am I supposed to feel? Am I supposed to be jumping with joy, or telling everyone about how cute she is, but I can’t.

I’m just 19 years old, I don’t know how to feel yet, Im still a kid.

I named her Amber, after my mom. My mom passed away since I was eight years old, and my dad wasn’t very supportive, so I ended up taking care of myself all my life.

Since I didn’t have a mom, I wasn’t into all of them girly stuff, and I don’t know how I will be able to take care of Amber.

What if I drop her? What if she starts crying and I can’t shut her up? Anything can go wrong, for all I know. I don’t know how to take care of this baby.

Roger and I entered the apartment we lived in. It wasn’t much; it was really small, the paint was peeling off the ceiling, there was boxes everywhere…you get the point?

We both sat down on the old battered couch he got from the Salvation Army a few weeks back. Me and him both had some jobs, but we don’t make that much money. I don’t know what to do anymore, but I do know that we aren’t going to be able to raise this baby on our own.

Roger was still in school, but I had dropped out a few months back when I became pregnant. He still has one more year of school to go.

We sat in silence and just stared at the bundle lying on my lap. Finally, he spoke up.

“Ramona, what are we going to do?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know, Im so scared Roger, you can’t even imagine…” I started crying a little, which was unexpected.

It’s not only me I was scared for, it was the baby.

Amber was a beautiful baby, no doubt about it. She was born with soft wispy raven black hairs on her head and the iciest blue eyes.

I swear, that kid was a looker.

But my pregnancy wasn’t so good. I felt tired all the time, like the baby sucked the energy out of me. I swear I could feel her draining me of all my energy, like a vacuum cleaner. She had kicked all the time and it felt like she was cutting my stomach up.

But what were worse were the nightmares.

Oh, Gosh, the nightmares.

Red, everywhere. Blood, guts, and an evil laugh. Yellow eyes, big white fangs, Amber being taken away…this happened every single night of the pregnancy. I then had to go to a psychiatrist, who put me on some meds.

That was horrible. No one knew what was happening to me, and all I knew was that there was something wrong.

I didn’t bond with Amber like a mother should have.

I may be ignorant about the whole mother-daughter relationship, but I knew that I did not have any feelings of love towards Amber. My child. The one I was supposed to love the most.

It felt like she wasn’t mine, that she wasn’t my flesh and blood. But, I knew, somewhere, deep down inside that she WAS my child, I had created her and that without ‘me’, there wouldn’t be a ‘her’.

But I still felt like that was wrong, and that NO.

Amber was NOT my baby.

And then, when she was old enough to babble, she began to change. I would come in the room to find her curled up in a ball, mumbling “Red, red…bad.” She would stare off into the distance and babble to herself.

She would hide under the bed for hours, beat her hands on her little head, and cry.

What was happening to my child?

**

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