Amari morris, a little girl from cali who moved when she was 11 to live with her cousins in new york. the life style was a huge change for her and it was definitely gonna take some time to adjust to it. but what happens when she meets her cousins be...
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BASHAR JACKSON
"Des you need to drink somethi-"
"Don't tell me to drink at a time like this! she could be dead pop and it's all my fault i should've been more careful! i should've-"
"stop" i pulled her into a hug and she just began to break down in my arms, sobbing loudly making everybody look over. "This isn't your fault. she just wanted to come early, des. please just drink some water"
"What if she doesn't make it, shar" she looked up at me as tears filled her eyes more and more, some steaming down her cheeks. "the nursery, the doctor appointments, the toys! everything! it's all gone. i was go excited to bring her home and teach her stuff. i was so fucking excited"
"and you should still be" i wiped her cheeks off and she shook her head. "yes. she's premature. i know she might have problems because of how early it is but once she's ready, she'll be home before you know it"
"what if she's unhealthy and can't fight by herself? we can't even hold her, pop.."
"i know" i sighed, rubbing my face as i began to reminisce over that.
we've been so excited to see her.. all for us not to be able to even touch her? that shit not right
"it'll all be worth the stress once we can see her, okay? i promise you, Des" i rubbed her back as she laid her head back on my chest, letting her low cries and sniffled out.
-
"Mr. Jackson?" me and des both looked up and i stood up, watching the doctor come in with a few papers in her hand. "we'll need you guys to sign these" she handed them to me and des sighed, rubbing her face.
"is she okay?"
"she's been breathing fine for being born so early.. but looking at how she still needs the machine to survive, she won't be out any time soon"
hearing des begin to cry, i sighed and put the papers down, pointing to the door so the doctor knew to follow me out.
i shut the door and that's when des's cries got even louder. making everybody stare at me.
"when can she go home?"
"when she's 8 and a half months" she sighed. "i'm sorry. she's doing good for her age right now though and she is healthy so i think it'll be okay. it's a matter of patience"
"when can i see her?"
"now if you'd like. we can bring her into her room and you might even be able to hold her for a few minutes"
a few minutes..
"a few?"
"i'm sorry, but premature babies can't be held for too long. their fragile. they aren't even ready to come out yet but since they do, you have to work with what time you have"
