Dying To Go Home

Losing Home

"Where is he?! Where is my baby?!" A woman who couldn't have been older than 24 years old panicked as she ran up to the nurse's help desk.

"Ma'am, I'm going to need you to calm down. Now, what is the name of the patient?" A blonde, tall nurse whose nametag read CHERYL responded. The other woman, a redhead with very pale skin and puffy eyes from the overwhelming amount of tears that had been shed, took a couple deep breaths. She nodded and wiped her face with the sleeve of her jacket.

"His n-name is D-Damen. Damen Donaldson. I'm his wife, Deonne Donaldson." Deonne informed the nurse. The nurse nodded and started typing on the computer behind the desk. Deonne bit her lip as she waited in anticipation as a few more tears escaped and trailed down her cheeks. "Please..." She whispered.

"Ah, yes. Mr. Donaldson is in surgery right now. I'm going to have to ask you to wait out here until the doctor is done with the operation." The nurse motioned to the chairs aligned along the hallway.

"Well... is he ok? Can you tell me what happened? Is he going to di-"

"You'll just have to wait for the doctor, ma'am. I'm sorry." With that, the nurse turned away and started to work on some papers. Deonne sighed, knowing there was nothing else she could do. With heavy feet, she made her way over to the chairs.

What felt like hours, were only mere minutes as new patients were rushed in and worried family and/or friends followed. Though she knew it was stupid, Deonne held grudges for those who got to automatically accompany their loved ones while she sat and waited in agony and doubt that she would ever get to see her husband again.

"Hello." Deonne jumped, at first with a smile, until she looked around and realized the voice came from a little girl sitting next to her. Deonne felt disappointed, but gave the child a friendly, yet small smile.

"Hi." She replied. "Where are your parents?" The child pointed down the hallway towards a couple who was following a male behind some double doors.

"They are checking on my new baby brother."

Why would her parents leave her here by herself? She's like 7. Deonne thought to herself, but didn't linger on it much longer. I'll be a much better parent. Deonne smiled to herself as she rubbed her belly.

"Is there a baby in there?" The little girl questioned, noticing the rubbing motion. "My mom used to rub her belly when she had my brother in her. When is your baby suppose to come out?" Deonne smiled at the cute girl.

"Well, I'm not sure. It's too soon to tell."

"Oh." The little girl looked confused, but shrugged to herself.

"What is your name?" Deonne asked her only company.

"My name is Ashlee! And I am this many!" The little girl was excited to show Deonne that she was six years old with the little fingers she held up.

"It's nice to meet you. My name is Deonne."

"De-On. That sure is a weird name." Deonne laughed at the younger for being so cute.

"Oh my gosh! Ashlee! There you are! We were looking everywhere for you." An elder woman came up and took the child's wrist, pulling her away from the redhead who was still waiting.

"But grammy... you told me to wait on the chairs..." Deonne relaxed back in her chair as the conversation became distant. Alone again.

"Uh... Mrs. Donaldson?" A male appeared out of nowhere in front of her.

"Yes. That is me. I am Mrs. Donaldson. Any news on my husband? Can I see him?"

"Mrs. Donaldson... your husband... well these things aren't easy, but... he didn't make it ma'am. I am sorry." Deonne's whole life crashed in a span of ten seconds. Not being able to keep herself up, she fell to her knees. Thousands of questions she would never be able to answer clouded her head. She barely heard the doctors words as the walls seem to close in on her.

"He was shot while a robbery was taking place at a gas station over on Iron Street. Like an idiot, he was trying to be a hero." Deonne couldn't punch the doctor in the face for harsh words against her beloved. No, Deonne had to stay focused, just like they always practiced.

As hard as she tried, Deonne couldn't grasp the world around her anymore. There was no point without him. Her heart squeezed and the tears flowed as her breathing increased. She closed her eyes as her body began to quiver. It had been years since she had a panic attack and without his help, she was a victim for time.

She tried to scream; to let out any noise she possible could, but it was futile. She kept breathing, or what it appeared to be. In reality, Deonne was inhaling and exhaling to get air into her lungs as quick as she could, because even though it seemed she was getting plenty, she felt like she was getting none.

A small pinch on her upper left arm made her aware of other things around her. People were looking at her like she was crazy, like she wasn't human. She turned to see a worried nurse and doctor, the nurse holding a needle that she just used to inject her. Her vision began to waver and soon she was falling forward.

Was I poisoned? Are they killing me now?

Deonne didn't care whether she was dying or not, because without Damen, she was already dead on the inside.