Runaway Rosie.

Fourteen

I'd never understood the concept of limbo; I knew what it meant if you were referring to its most common usage, of a state between life and death, but I'd never understood how it would feel. However, in my in between state of consciousness and unconsciousness, I was quickly catching on. Maybe, I thought snarkily as I felt all the fabrics of the crunchy bed sheets push against my calves, this was comatose. 

The incessant beeping of what I assumed to be machines connected into my body via needles and tubes grew louder and louder, like a fly getting closer and closer to your ear. This was something I couldn't swat away though, and the more I tried to ignore it the more the noise persisted. I felt like my body temperature had dropped five degrees, but I wasn't sure if that was due to the actual room temperature or just me becoming more accurately aware of how cold 68 degrees actually felt like.

I heard a door swing open and a pair of heavy footsteps approach the bed I was sure I was lying on. The scrape of a chair to my left rang in my eardrums like nails on a chalkboard, and scuttling feet quickly rearranged themselves. 

"Are you Rose's family," I heard an unfamiliar, deep voice that reminded me of Morgan Freeman's, ask. I recalled a movie in which Morgan Freeman played God and wondered briefly if this god was comforting my loved ones. I pushed away the silly notion and instead tried to make a mental bullet list of all the details I had henceforth noticed so I could gather a conclusion of where I was. Soon enough it became evident that I was in a hospital, and I questioned why my subconscious hadn't registered that sooner.

"No-"

"Yes."

"Not really, but-"

"Can you just tell us how she is?"

A flurry of voices all tumbled together at once and I tried to place names and faces to them. The first voice was unknown, but the second I could distinctly recall was Louis, then another unfamiliar male, and lastly Harry. 

Harry.

I yearned to wrap my fingers around his and squeeze, feeling what could have only been his hand on top of mine, engulfing my small palm like I was a toddler. I focused all of my energy onto that, and finally- nothing. This was no lifetime movie and I was left cursing my current state.

"Well, given we have only one previous medical record, there's not much to go by. She was in fact shot in the lower back and through her abdomen. We were able to safely remove the bullet, but we fear she fell into a stress-induced coma. We aren't 100% sure, she could still just be under anesthesia. Give it another hour or two and we'll know for sure. Oh, and one last thing. Was she sexually active with anyone in particular?"

"Not that we kno-"

"Yes. With me."

Harry's voice rang out timidly, these people with him apparently didn't know about me and I'm sure there was good reason for it being that way. I wasn't sure if I should be embarrassed that Harry had basically given away the intimacy of our relationship, but I supposed that in my state I really didn't care or have much choice. 

"May I speak with you for a moment, alone?"

"Of course."

The sounds of feet falling into step as they left the room and a door closing made things eery. I didn't like not being able to interact with my surroundings or do anything about it. I could feel Harry's palm starting to sweat and my nose began to itch and I felt like there were literally straps holding me down so that I couldn't move.

"You said that you and Rose were together, is that correct?"

"Yes sir." Harry's voice was now more uncertain, more impatient. I felt the same way and was glad that at least one of us could voice our shared feelings. 

"Were you the only person she was with, in that way, within the last few months?"

"Yes, sir may I ask why you're needing this information?"

"It seems that Miss Rose, was pregnant, but due to her injuries, she lost the baby." My gut clenched inward and I imagined a now empty void in my womb where my baby, our baby, had been. For a brief moment I saw everything that could have been flash before my shut eyes; Harry holding our little girl in the middle of the night when she had awoken in a crying fit, Harry and I pushing a stroller through the park with a little brunette girl with curly hair and wide eyes sporting a vanilla ice cream, half of it spread across her chubby cheeks, Harry walking her to the bus stop and waving from the window, apprehension and anxiety furrowing his brow, me helping her get ready for her first date. Thankfully my tortorous vision was cut short as Harry and the doctor began to converse once more.

"My-my baby?"

"Yes. It really is a shame due to her previous miscarriage." For a moment I was glad I couldn't look at Harry, I didn't want to see the confused and disbeliving look I envisioned spreading over his face and flooding his eyes.

"Previous? What do you mean?"

"We have on record a hospitalization about a year or so ago when she lost her first baby. I'm sorry if you didn't know that. That poor girl."

/\__/\__/\__/\__/\__/\_/\_/\_/\_/\_/\_/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\___________________ (lolol like my visual aid?)

My heartbeat began to race, faster and faster with every second. I could feel myself hyperventilating, gasping for air at the same time. The annoying hum of the heart monitor began to scream in high pitch that my heart was giving out on me. The doctor began barking orders at Harry. I could feel myself slipping, letting go of where I was, falling into darkness.

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A big thank you goes to my very talented best friend Aleena, check out her amazing stories http://www.quotev.com/notamelon <3<3

I'm so sorry it's short, my friend and I put this together in like 10 minutes flat, pretty crazy. I love you guys xx