⇾ 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 | 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐈𝐈

𝚇𝚇𝙸𝚇

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚃𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚢-𝙽𝚒𝚗𝚎 → 𝙳𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚘 𝙴𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝

⊹ 𝟿-𝟿-𝟷𝟿𝟼𝟾 ⊹

"Alissa, I don't know what you want me to do!" John cried as he paced outside the bathroom door.

"John, I'm not supposed to be bleeding!" I replied, pacing inside of the tiny bathroom on Kenwood's ground floor.

"Then, maybe we should call your damned doctor!" he replied. "But, you have to unlock the fucking door and let me in if you want to do that!"

I placed both of my hands on the bathroom counter, hanging my head forward as I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, dizzy from walking in a circle about a thousand times in one minute. "Liss?" John asked. "Ye still there? Everything all right?"

Nothing was bloody all right. I had just been living my best fucking life, and some gossiping bitch had to come along and ruin all of that. I was the opposite of alright, and my mind was spinning, slapping me in the face with every thought that it knew could cause me stress.

I wasn't supposed to be stressed. My doctor had told me so, and John had made a significant effort to keep any stressful situations away from me. He'd been dealing with anything that he even just thought could trigger a bloody nervous breakdown, but this one seemed to be too big for him to keep away from me. Now, I felt like something was going wrong.

My mind rewound and took me back to my first miscarriage. I remembered the cramping, the blood, the pain, the all-around misery. This time, my belly was bigger, the baby was bigger, but the pain was pretty much the same. I'd already had so much time with this baby. I already had such a significant connection. I felt like I knew this baby more than myself already. I'd taken every precaution, hadn't I? I'd suffered through sleepless nights without my sleeping pills. I'd sat out on so many things when I was feeling the worst.

But, now I was in pain, familiar pain, pain that was somewhere between my normal period cramps and what it had felt like when I was in labor with Julian. I wasn't a doctor, but I knew that that wasn't good. Yet, I wouldn't open the door. I wouldn't let John help me. Something was keeping me from doing that, no matter how much I wanted to, my body forced me to stay right where I was, and like so many times before, I felt imprisoned by my own bloody mind.

Something hit the floor beside me, and I looked over to see the entire damn doorknob on the ground. They'd all been screwed on from the outside, courtesy of John since I was apparently fond of locking myself in rooms and refusing to open the door.

"John, what the hell did you do that for?" I asked as he stepped into the room, placing his hands on my elbows to turn me toward him. He looked me up and down to make sure that I was unharmed.