Blood Stains and Burn Marks

Chapter 27

"Now Ms.Winters no matter what you can't stop pushing. It's essential. Or else the baby will die." I've never been in so much pain in my life. It's like nothing I've ever felt before. "Okay now on the count of three you need to push. Okay ready? One. Two. Three!" I push as hard as I can. Screams echo off the hospital walls and intentionally I hadn't realized that they were my own. A burning sensation arises inside of me. A feeling I've never felt. I don't have much time to consider this new emotion before I'm told to push again. "One. Two. Three!" I push again, this time more painful than the last. Sweat drips from my forehead. My whole body shakes in anticipation and fear. I feel myself growing weaker by the second. It's like my whole world has crumbled down in the last 10 minutes taking everything I've loved, and it appears it's still not done. "Come on Devena! Keep pushing! You have to keep pushing!" I push once again. Screaming as loud as I can. Tears welling up in my eyes as I cling to the sides of the bed for dear life. "Push! Goddamnit push!" I try to push again but my energy has seem to vanish. The room starts to spin as black dots cloud my vision. I hear the doctor screaming at me to keep going but it's almost like his voice has become distant too. And in a matter of second I'm out. Left without no one but myself to blame.

*****

I awake what feels like hours later. I look around for my baby in hopes that they've left her beside me but she's no where in sight. I look down to see the numerous stitches that cover my body. I turn away in shame. Once Tate sees this he'll never want to touch me again he'll be so disgusted he'll-. Then it hits me like a ton of bricks. The painful reminder of the event that took place not even minutes before I passed out. I witnessed his death and all I could do was sit there and hold his lifeless body in my hands. The urge to cut fills my body. It makes me quiver in angry and frustration. The feeling of blood living my body is one I'd kill to feel at this very moment. But then I remember my daughter. Our daughter. She shouldn't have to live with something so dark as this. I have to get better. I have to accept the help that people have been trying to give me for years. I need it. I only wish I had seen it sooner.
I want to blame my father for a lot of the reasons I am who I am. He taught me that growing up cold is far better than growing up loving the world. Sure it's a lonely road but at least you don't stumble home heart broken. You just stumble home broken hearted. Which I guess is kind of the same thing, just different causes.
I've never called my father, dad. I believe that father is much more cold and unforgiving. It's a title given to a man that doesn't truly deserve one. I sincerely believe that he was never meant to be a father. Some men dream of having child and growing old while watching them grow as well, and others, well their only home is found at the bottom of a bottle. And maybe that's the safest road, or at least the easiest. Because whatever feelings arise inside of you, you can just drown them. Trying to fix a permanent problem with a temporary solution. But I suppose that's only a lonely choice. Drinking away your existence. I suppose depression is much like that. A black hole that just keeps smothering your every attempt at leaving. It's like drinking your life away in attempt of making your life something better. I guess I'm more like my father than I thought because just like him I tried to fix myself by using a temporary solution to a permanent problem, when I well knew it was just one big vicious cycle.
I know I have to change. I've said it time and time again but this time I truly mean it. I swear to god I truly mean it.
As I lay there pondering my thoughts the doctor who delivered my baby comes in.
"How are you feeling Devena?"
"Better. I'm so tired though. Is that normal?"
"Oh it's definitely normal.." Sometimes off. I can hear it in his voice.
"What's wrong?"
"Devena, I don't know how to tell you. I mean how much can one person take in a day?"
"Please. Don't be one of those people who slowly peel the bandage. Just rip it off."
"Well Devena you passing out put us in a very difficult situation. See if we didn't do anything the baby would have died. You would have cut off her circulation. So we had to act fast. We cut you open right here and attempted to get your daughter out. She wasn't breathing so we attempted to revive her, but my god Devena she was just so blue...I've never seen someone be so blue."
"W-what are you saying?" I feel my heart drop.
"Devena I'm so sorry, but she didn't make it. Your daughter is dead." He walks over to me and hugs me. It's like I'm being punched in the stomach all over again. Like the world has set me up as the great target and everyone is taking their shot. "I'm so, so sorry." He whispers as he rubs my back. A silent tear rolls down my cheek. That's it. After all those months of pain and suffering she's just gone? After all those hours in labour she's dead? It's almost too much to bare. First I loose the love of my life and then I loose the only reason that kept me fighting.
"I think..I think I need some time alone right now..." He gets back up and nods his head.
"Whatever you need Devena, I'll be here." He walks away closing the door behind him. I don't care who sees me anymore, I let it out. Tears soak my pillow. Screams of agony fill my empty room. I have nothing. No one. My parents are dead. My sister is dead. My boyfriend and daughter are dead. I have literally nothing anymore. I've had it. I'm tired of trying so hard and still constantly losing everything I love. I'm tired of trying to be the good guy and still getting fucked over. I just don't care anymore. I lean over and feel around under the hospital bed. I search for a sharp edge or a broken corner and then I find it. 9 months clean, soon no longer. I take my wrist and close my eyes. In a matter of minutes I feel the warm substance release itself from my veins. It's been trapped amongst them for far too long. I keep going. Deeper and deeper. I look over the side and notice the giant puddle of blood beside me. I then take my other wrist and repeat the small motion, until it too has several deep gashes. I lay on my back, wrist facing the sky, much like a fallen angel. Silence fills the empty gaps around me. My vision once again is clouded with black dots but I know this time I won't be waking up. Won't have to deal with the pain any longer. Won't have to live in a world without my dead daughter and Tate. Without my parents and sister. I won't have to deal with the persistent thought and feeling of self hatred that burns through my body like knives. Constant thoughts rush through my head. Blood stains my sheets. And tonight I know I'll finally get to dance in heaven.