Keep Driving [h.s]

three

Never in a million years would I have thought that I would be going to the hospital with a baby in the backseat.

A baby that's supposedly mine.

I still don't believe it, no matter the letter or the similarities between her and me. I can't be a father, end of.

I've been on my feet for 26 hours now, and haven't slept at all since yesterday. I have six coffees in my system that are keeping me up on my feet but other than that, I'm a human zombie.

After having a breakdown that felt like hours long, I realised I needed to get my shit together and care for the baby even if it's not mine.

How, do you ask? Well, I put the basket into my car and drove to the only shop that was open at six in the morning and purchased every single item needed for a child.

A crib, a stroller, a car seat, formulas, bottles, a baby monitor with a camera, clothes, diapers, wipes, vitamins, medicine, toys, dummies, blankets, and burp cloths. Literally everything my eyes spotted in the baby aisle, I bought. I spent way too much money but I have no fucking idea what a baby needs and I'm not about to let her suffer. What if she dies because I didn't care for her? I couldn't bear the thought of a few months old baby dying because of me.

Yes, I have no problem torturing and killing men around the globe but I'm terrified when it comes to this small child who is God knows whose.

She did nothing wrong, she doesn't deserve anything bad happening to her. Including her being left with me out of all people. I'm trying so hard to keep her alive but fuck, it's difficult. She's so tiny and fragile and I feel like I can't take my eyes off her for a second.

Once I got everything that was needed, I drove back home with her and put the clothes in the washing machine and washed the bottles, toys and everything to sanitize them. When that was done, I made her a bottle according to the given description and fed her.

She didn't cry the whole time which is a fucking miracle but I didn't wanna jinx it.

I changed her diaper which was a disaster and resulted in my whole arm being covered in shit. If I had anything in my stomach I would've thrown up again but I would've just been dry heaving.

Once I took a shower, leaving her in the crib for literally three minutes while I cleaned myself off, I hurried back out to check on her, only to find her staring at the ceiling.

I made her another bottle at eight, just in case but she wasn't really hungry so once I put the car seat into the backseat of my Rover and built the stroller, we drove off to the hospital.

Which is exactly where we are right now, in the parking lot as I take her carrier out of the car. The stroller is so convenient, the carrier is the basket of the stroller which you can detach at any time.

It makes it a lot easier to carry her around.

Once I got her out of the car, I'm on my way into the building, going straight to the children's side of it. A nurse at the reception welcomes me with a bright smile.

"Good morning, how may I help you?"

"Uh, I want a general check up on her." A general check-up? Harry, get your shit together.

"Alright, fill this form out and wait there." She hands me a clipboard with a paper and a pen attached to it and sends me to the waiting area.

Putting her carrier on the ground by my feet, I sit and start filling out the form.

Name: Harry Edward Styles
Place and date of birth: Redditch, February 1st 1994.
Name of the child:

She doesn't have a fucking name because whoever left her at my house didn't give one to her.