'The secret to be Good, is to hide the Evil'
Maia Severino, a girl running from her past but stuck in a life she can't continue, doing anything to survive.
Carlos Marchetti, a man in charge, always knowing what to do next, always getting what he wa...
I've dealt with a lot of pain in my life, but I've never felt anything like this.
"He he oooo, he he oooo" I repeat the breathing exercise. Sweat drips down my forehead and my knuckles are white from holding the bars.
"Push!" the midwife says. "I can't do anymore," I cry shaking my head. "Yes, you can, you are strong, for the baby. Push!" The encouragement helps me push again, tears stream down my face and I continue my breathing.
"Nearly there Maia, come on just a few more," she smiles. I nod, gripping the bars again at the side of the bed, "Push!"
"Ahhhh!"
"Just the shoulders now, one more big push, ready. 3,2,1, Push!" My screams fill the room as the last of my energy goes into the final push.
Then my baby's cries fill the room, my head falls back onto the pillow. "You have a healthy baby boy" she says cheerfully, wrapping him in a blanket. I lift my arms out towards my son, a smile of relief and happiness on my face.
The door flies open and Fausto walks in, but I can't take my eyes off my child. The midwife moves towards me, "bring my son to me" Fausto demands. She immediately turns around to Fausto passing the bundle of joy to him.
She mouths back to me 'sorry' before leaving the room.
"Let me hold him" I whisper my voice hoarse from the screaming. "Later, you need to be cleaned up first" he says, staring down at my son.
"Please Fausto, he needs his mother. Please." I beg, tears slipping from my eyes. "Later" he hisses back heading toward the door.
"Give him to me, PLEASE!" I scream. "PLEASE, please please" I say my words getting quieter as the door closes behind him. I sob until my eyes hurt.
He took my son; I haven't even held him yet.
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I wake up in a different room clean and dressed. I push myself off the bed, swinging my legs to the floor. I stand on unsteady legs, my belly still swollen from the birth.
I waddle to the door with only one thought in my mind, get to my son. I turn the handle on the door which is surprisingly unlocked. They probably thought I was in too tired to get out of bed.
The hallway is lifeless, and I wince with every step. I walk towards the voices, the men all sitting round a table and drinking. They all look in my direction when I enter, "where is my son" I demand no fear just need in my voice.
"Someone take her back to her room now" a man instructs. A few walks over grabbing my arms, I struggle in their grasps. "Tell me where he is, please" I cry more tears falling down my face. I don't want to cry in front of them I just can't help it right now. It feels like a piece of me is missing.
