Untitled Yet three | Teen Ink

Untitled Yet three

December 4, 2010
By FashionGuru DIAMOND, Manhattan, New York
FashionGuru DIAMOND, Manhattan, New York
55 articles 0 photos 92 comments

Favorite Quote:
"I don't do fashion, I am fashion." -Coco Chanel

“Uh….” I said, leaning against him more. “Call…” But I couldn’t get any words out before I slipped to the floor, barely conscious.
Like a movie reel, I saw Peter yell to someone far off and catch my body before there could be any more damage. There was blood; God, there was blood and it was falling from between my legs, a Niagara Falls in crimson. I wanted to cry, but there was so much pain. I couldn’t be in labor, I still had four months. My baby didn’t even have hair yet; neither of us was ready to let go of each other.
Peter cradled me in his arms until the ambulance came. His face was pale with worry and even though I was gushing blood and in severe pain, I wanted to comfort him, I wanted to tell him that it was okay even if it wasn’t. They strapped me to a stretcher and Drew got in the ambulance followed by Mikaela. I could see Peter’s face through the window before they drove off. It took me a while to register that he couldn’t have rode, he had driven everyone else in his mom’s SUV.
Drew’s tense face was hovering above mine, mouthing words that I couldn’t understand. Then suddenly there was a mask over my mouth and even if I wanted to, I couldn’t speak. Mikaela was there too, holding Drew back when he began to shake the paramedics.
Then it all went dark.


Riding in the ambulance, I was looking down at a girl that I had known for just over a year. Yet this girl held everything that I needed in the palm of her hand. I couldn’t let her go.

As soon as I had seen Elle slumped over in Peter’s arms, I had started to scream. I tried to shake her awake and he pushed me away, saying that wasn’t going to help. Even thought I had known this would happen, it still scared me. And looking at her, so helpless and tired, so weak and sick, I couldn’t help but fight for the essence of the girl that I loved.

Mikaela tried to calm me down in the ambulance as Elle fell unconscious or asleep, I couldn’t tell the difference. I grabbed the collar of the paramedics, demanding he do something to help her. I was so incoherent that Mikaela had to tell him everything that had happened.

I turned around and saw Peter speeding behind the emergency vehicle, doing well over 70 in a 50 to try and stay behind the swerving van. Elle looked limp and weak, her tiny arms stretched protectively across her abdomen.

“She’s going to be fine,” Mikaela, said. Her hand was cool and light on my arm. Instead of shrugging it off as I would have before, I held her cold hand up to my cheek. She didn’t try to pull away but I could tell it was weird. I just needed to feel alive, because if I didn’t have Elle, I didn’t have anything.

The doors of the ambulance opened with a sound not far from death itself. There was a suctioning then a pound then the entire vehicle was encompassed in a bright white light. There were shouts as men and women in blue read stats the paramedic had written on the ride and poked and prodded Elle on the gurney.

“She’s going to be okay, right?!” I yelled. “She’s going to be okay.”

“Whose he?” a guy in a blue scrub outfit asked.

“Boyfriend and baby’s father,” the paramedic said. “She’s twenty one weeks, with hemorrhages and a BP of 141.”

“We need a room, stat,” a doctor called. A man in grey bounded over, checking Elle’s wrist and papers.

“She’s miscarrying,” the man in grey, said. “I need an OR and a team.” He spoke into the radio. “NOW people!”

“Miscarrying?” I whispered, the words familiar and sour in my mouth. It was only then that I remembered Mikaela next to me, her cool arms soothing me as I watched them wheel the last of my sanity into the cold metal hall.

The waiting room was cold and quiet. I could only hear the sounds of the other people breathing and the occasional deposit in the vending machine. Mikaela and Maddie were asleep on a small, dirty couch. Peter, Alex and I were sitting in chairs, staggered around the oblong room as we waited for any news.

Peter had called his parents and Elle’s.
His had shown up.
Elle’s didn’t.
I called my parents and left a message, sure they didn’t care but it was just in case. I couldn’t do anything and so I fidgeted, I got sodas from the machines; I took a walk to the prenatal wing.
But the memories surrounded me. I couldn’t help but wonder if the last thing I had said to her was “pass the breadsticks”. It seemed a horrible thing to be left with.
I remembered the day she had come in and replaced my shirt with another, crying for no reason.
Or the day she had told me about the baby, how then I didn’t want it.
On the first day I met Elle she had been vivacious, live, and unique. That wasn’t something that I wanted to lose now that I had it.
“Drew.” It was a whisper from behind me. Mikaela had pulled her hair back and her makeup was gone. I had the sudden urge to hold her, see if she fit into my arms the way that Elle did even though I knew she wouldn’t. “Drew, the doctors are here. They want to talk to us all.”
I didn’t register anything but doctors. I ran in the direction that I thought was the waiting room.
“Drew!” Mikaela shouted. I stopped and stomped back to where she stood.
“Don’t you act like this is any of your business,” I said, practically spitting the words at her.
“Don’t act like you’re the only person in her life who cares,” she said back, equally as bitter. I stared her down for a full minute then took a step closer. I raised my hand, as if to hit her, but instead I grabbed her and pressed our mouths together.
It wasn’t pretty and it wasn’t planned, but something about kissing Mikaela made me feel less empty. My future was standing in the same building as me. The love of my life and my child were either dead or alive. But when I was kissing Mikaela, I realized that I was alive.
“Don’t,” she said, pushing me away. It was then that I realized this wasn’t only me; I was dragging Mikaela into this too. “What are you trying to do?” she asked, not moving further away from me than a few inches.
“Feel something,” I said, and then kissed her again. This time, she didn’t stop me. It wasn’t the stars and bubbles I had seen when I had first kissed Elle. But it was a decent replacement. And at that moment, it was all I really needed.

No one had seen me slip the herbs into her drink when I went to the bathroom.
No one saw my hesitation before going to her rescue.
No one but me.
I couldn’t be a father.
I wasn’t ready.
I loved Elle.
That’s why I did this.
Don’t blame me. I was only trying to prevent what could forever scar our lives.
And I wasn’t sorry.


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