Prepare yourselves.
I'm twisting the plot.
I expected a lot of things as I ran into my Mom’s house with tear filled eyes, a grief filled heart horrifically overactive imagination.
I expected sirens to be filling the air, or people to be crying or my daughter to be dead or dying, what I did not find however, was any of the above.
Bursting into the house I instead found my Mom sleeping in a chair while Lauren and Harry sat watching the Backstreet boys documentary on the couch.
“Where is Minnie?” I demanded.
Frowning, Lauren paused the TV.
“In my room sleeping, so shut up.” She replied.
“Is she okay?” I pressed.
“She’s fine.” Lauren answered, “Chill out, you look like you’re going to throw up.”
“You called me and told me she was dying!” I snapped.
“I thought she was!” Lauren said defensively, “Mom said to call you but then she was fine and I forgot to call you back.”
“What happened?” Destiny asked.
“She had a panic attack.” Lauren answered, resuming her movie.
“A panic attack?” I demanded, “Why, what happened?”
“She missed you and Des.” Harry answered.
“Oh my God.” Destiny breathed, massaging her temples, “I thought….I thought for sure she was….”
“I know.” I breathed, pulling her in for a hug, “It’s okay, she’s fine.”
“Sorry about that.” Lauren muttered.
“Don’t worry about it.” Destiny replied, “I’m just glad she’s okay.”
DESTINY’S POV~
THREE WEEKS LATER
“Mom…Mom…Mom… Mommy….Mommy…Mommy….Mama…Mama…Mama… Ma…Ma….Ma…Ma…Mom…Mom…Mom…Mom…Mommy…Mommy…Mommy…Mama….Mama..Mama…..Destiny….Mom…Mam…”
“What?”
My eye twitching I looked down at Ashley, trying to block out Andy’s screams as I bounced him in my arms.
“Hi.” Ashley giggled.
Fighting back tears of frustration I watched as she ran away screaming. Taking a shaky breath I moved Andy up to my shoulder and tried bouncing him faster however he wasn’t having it. Letting out a shriek that left my ears ringing, he ran his little hand down my face, his fingernails, catching my skin and scratching me.
My cheeks warm I reached up and finding a droplet of blood on my fingertip, repositioned him in my arms which were on fire from holding him all day.
“Do you want your passy?” I questioned, slipping his pacifier into his mouth, however spitting it out he only cried louder.
“What about a baba?” I asked, picking up his bottle off of the coffee table and trying to slip it into his mouth.
Screaming even louder, he pushed it away, casing me to drop the bottle to the floor, however the top was obviously not on right and milk began spraying everywhere.
Cursing quietly under my breath I leaned down to pick it up and whacked my forehead on the corner of the coffee table so hard I saw stars.
Blinking rapidly I straightened up, only to wince as Ashley began banging on pots and pans in the adjoining kitchen.
