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"Suffering is a fire; it either purifies or destroys."
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NUMBER ONE.
DID YOU KNOW that in 1991, there were 4.11 million births? In hospitals, all around the world, a plethora of babies were born. New life entered a room full of spectators, wailing at the unknown light above them. They were thrust into a world so unfamiliar, so daunting — so scary. Yet, cheers, and cries of joy bounced within the confines of the room they were in. They were a sign of new life, so beautiful, pure, and angelic. They received pledges of deserved protection, and promises that in a world full of hate, they'd receive all the love in the world.
Primrose was one of those babies. And no, she's not going to be like those liars that say they remember everything about their birth (which is so definitely not true, and those people lie right out of their fucking ass) because she doesn't. But, she's seen the photos. She's seen her mother exhausted in her hospital bed, hair sprawled across her pillow as she watched her kids with a disturbed look. She's seen her father holding her and her brother in his strong arms, watching his two kids with tears in his eyes.
She imagined a lot for her daughter's birth. A hospital full of people to help her, nurses and her beloved doctor making sure she and her baby are alright. She imagined her friends all calling her every hour, making sure she's all right. She imagined Sam, holding her hand while she threw obscenities at his face. And she — alongside Sam — imagined their baby letting out their first cry and their hearts immediately filling up with pure love.
Too bad it won't go this way.
NUMBER TWO.
A contraction hits her.
Breathe in and out.
Breathe in and out.
Breathe in and out.
Hee, hee, hee.
Hee, hee, hee.
In the back, she hears the commotion of the group she has found herself living with these past few weeks. The screams have elevated to another level of ferociousness she has never heard from them before. Her name is sprinkled in every other proclamation and condemnation to hell for Jenner.
Primrose hates to say it, but in the midst of her soon-to-be death, she's glad to know that all of these people are looking for a way to save her. She knows they value their lives, but it feels nice to hear them plead for salvation on behalf of her. Do they like me? It seems like it.
NUMBER THREE.
Sam is stupid. Luv is a doctor. Primrose is mortified.
"It's called a digital cervical exam. It's how we check how far along you are," Luv explained to them.
