Baby Clifford

Night Terror

*Michael's POV*

I was dressed up as a doctor as I stood in operation room with blood all over the table and doctor tools.  I took a glimpse at the patient and saw her brown hair and hazel eyes closed from the sleeping medical thing over her mouth and in her nose.  Deadly breathes barely fogged it.  Her nine month stomach was opened up and doctors worked on her womb to get the infant baby out of her while keeping both of them alive.  I heard the heart monitor race with small, quick heart beats followed by the doctors swearing.  I asked what was happening and what they were going to do to keep her alive. "Sir, you need to get out of the here! You need to leave the room." A assistance to the main doctor told me as she pushed me out of the room. 

In my head I was screaming her name with my mouth open without so much as a squeak leaving it. I was in tears as the assistant closed the door on me.  I watched them work on my wife  through the window that interns or whatever watched from to learn. One of the nurses frowned and closed the curtains on me, forbidding me to watch. I just felt cold blood run through my entire body. I took a seat on a cold, metal chair and curled into a ball with my knees to my chest and my face in my knees while I silent rocked myself. I heard all the machines in the next room stop, leaving murmurs from the doctors and nurses. I breathed heavily and slowly, thinking of the worst.  There wasn't a baby crying.  Why isn't my child crying?! Isn't that the first thing they do is cry?! WHY DON'T I HEAR IT?! NO NO NO THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING!!! 

I heard it. A soft and quiet cry. I calmed down, my baby is alive. One of the nurses came out of the room, not with my baby. "Sir, follow me." She stated and led me down the white walled and floored hallway to a private room with a single bed and a yellow color crib as the rest of the room was white as well. "I'm sorry to tell you this, but" She hesitated, "You're wife is dead. She lost too much blood in the operation. I'm sorry, we did all that we could to keep her alive and well. Her body just wouldn't cooperate with us." She informed me with a sorry voice. My heart broke. My body felt empty, like someone drained all the blood and organs from it. I shouldn't have left her alone, I should've stayed in there with her and make sure that everything was fine. My stomach felt like it was twisting itself into a ball of yarn. It felt empty and full at the same time, I was no longer hungry.  I didn't want to see anyone. I just wanted to die, kill myself, anything to be with my wife and raise our child together.  I mean really, no one would care. The boys will find another guitarist and the fans won't care, they don't love me anyways. What's the point? There isn't one.

"Sir, SIR-" My thoughts were cut off. I didn't realize that I was pacing back and forth, my hands in tight fists. I stopped and slowly release my fists. "Do you want to see your daughter?" I nodded my head. I have a girl, a baby girl. She nodded back and left the room.  I don't know when, but I managed to put a big dent in the white wall and my fist hurt. I sighed and sat on the bed, deciding I'm most likely not to hurt myself or anyone or anything else today, taking off my gloves.  The door opened with the nurse cooing over a bundle of light baby pink blankets. "Here she is," She smiled the first time that I seen today from her. "Support her head," the nurse mentioned as she softly handed over my daughter. She had a round face with open hazel eyes and a pink and polka-dot beanie. "What's her name?" I smiled and remember the name that was agreed upon. "Melody Anastasia-Lyric Clifford." I stated and quickly felt cold. She looked too much like her mother for me to bare as I thought that she bawled and screamed "T-take her. I-I can't do this." I stuttered, shaking my head. "Sir, you just-" "I know! I just can't." I weakly said and stretched my arms out to the nurse. She took my child and gently laid her down in the crib, the new born baby made worried hums.

Then the door opened, my band mates coming in,  and went straight for the baby's crib. Luke picked her up, and she was quite. "Give me her," I demanded, not realizing how deep and rough my voice was coming out of my mouth.

He handed my daughter over and I saw the door open to a transparent, short, brown haired, and pale woman that had a hospital gown on her post-pregnancy stomach. "Michael,"  She sweetly dragged and made a motion with her finger for me to follow her. I stood up and as if I was in a trans, I obeyed her. "I want you to find me," The ghost of Haylie sneered and brought me to the hospital's morgue. "Find me Michael and let's hold Melody together." She said as I found a drawer that had a white piece of paper attached to it that read:

"Haylie M. Clifford -Cause of Death Childbirth- April 3rd 1996-August 3rd 2022"

I opened it up and there laid her bloody hospital gown with her eyes closed and hands touched her opposite shoulders. Her skin was whiter than paper and deadly. "Put my hand on her chest and stomach, so I can feel her beating heart." I obeyed and lifted her light, lifeless right arm and put her hand where the ghost told me to. "Now sing to her to a deep, deep, deep, sleep to make sure she doesn't have any nightmares. Sing 'Wrapped Around Your Finger' to her." She told me and I did sing the song to the newborn. Melody began to cry the loudest a baby could,  I wanted to stop and hold her and comfort her. "She just tired, keep singing you're singing so beautifully. Melody will fall asleep. Just ignore her cries, Michael." I continued to sing. Then it happened as I finished the song, Melody was quite. "Very good, Michael. Now put her on my chest and put my hand on yours and you will sing to me the same song. We'll be a family without someone missing in the picture." Haylie told me, her voice rougher like gravel grinned on her vocal cords. I nodded and put my other hand on Melody's chest. My eyes went wide and tearful. "S-She's d-dead." My voice cracked. "No, no, no NO,  SHE CAN'T BE DEAD! NO THIS ISN'T HAPPENING! NO, NO, NO! HELP!!!" I screamed for any doctor or nurse. "NONONO!!!" I yelled and sat up in bed, fully awake.

I panted like I ran a marathon, my bed hot from my sweat. "Melody!" I said and ran to her room. She was sleeping, I didn't care if I woke her up, picked her up, and hugged her close and kissed her, just to know she was there and alive. She was breathing and heart beating. "Oh thank God! You're okay." I breathed. "Daddy, I-I can't b-breath too tight." She coughed. I loosened my grip on her. "I'm sorry, I had a bad dream and it was so real  had to make sure that you were okay baby girl. I was so scared." I muttered and kissed her forehead. "Daddy, you're sticky and icky." She commented, sleepy. "I know.  You know what, I'll take a shower and we'll sleep in your bed tonight. Does that sound good?" Honestly, I was a bit took creeped out to sleep in my bed right now. She nodded her head and put her thumb in her mouth. "Don't do that," I said and pulled her thumb out of it. "It's bad." I said and brought her to the guest bathroom and put her on the counter. "Stay here," I said and quickly got a new pair of sleeping clothing, since I didn't want to sleep in sweaty clothes. I took a shower with my daughter less than 15 feet from me, she didn't see me change,  ew. I took a quick shower and dried off and got dressed quickly. I picked Melody up and we did what I said, slept in her bed. "Good night, baby girl." I whispered and kissed her head. "Good night, Daddy," She muttered before cuddling into my chest and stomach. I closed my eyes and fell asleep without any other bad dreams.