Thomas O'Sullivan & Edith Montgomery

Gone

I woke up the next morning. The 1st of December. Wow, nearly Christmas.

Edith. 

I sprung out of bed, put  jog pants and hoddie on and ran to her room. I gently opened her door to see her in bed, staring up at the ceiling.

"Is it morning yet?" She asked in a strangely soft voice. 

"Yes." I whispered. "We're all starting to get ready for breakfast. You coming?"

"No." She sighed. My face fell, I came up to her and held her hand.

"What if I bring it here for you?" I offered, desperately trying to help.

"I said no. I don't want breakfast."

"Edie, babe, you have to eat, please." I begged. She let her breath go.

"What's the point?"

That hurt me. I put a hand on her belly. "This is the point. Do it for her, Edie."

"Go away, Thomas. I don't feel well." And she rolled over, her back to me.

Edith was officially depressed, she couldn't even get out of bed. So I reluctantly left her alone to join my family for breakfast. But I wasn't hungry. I was so worried. She was just ill and not letting anyone help. I was scared.

"Where's Edith, son?" Dad asked.

"In bed. She won't get up." I mumbled.

"Oh the poor darling. Why don't you bring her something?" Mum urged. I shrugged.

"I already tried."

"Well, maybe she just needs some time to herself." Dad sighed.

Granny frowned. "Is it wise to go back with her in such a condition. Perhaps she should have the baby here. She can't travel if she's feeling so unwell."

Pa mulled this over in his head. "S'pose you're right. Well, if that's okay with Edith, we'll stay until the baby comes."

I felt a little better, at least she could rest for a while. I just hoped that baby came soon.

After breakfast, Mum, Dad, Grandma, Grandpa, Bill and I all decided to go for a walk; leaving Daniel in the hands of a maid, and Edith in her bedroom.

It was a long old hike, I hated walking in the cold.

"What you gonna call her?" Bill asked. I shook my head.

"No clue. I'll let Edith decide." I murmured. He patted me on the back.

"Mate, no offence, but she ain't in a good state to name a baby. She's gone a bit..."

"What?" I questioned.

"You know..."

"No."

"Insane." He added.

"She's not insane!" I hissed.

"Okay, okay, fine. Sorry. She's not." He was silent for a moment. "What's it like, knowing you're going to be a dad?"

I held my breath and stared at the snowy floor. "Terrifying." 

"I bet. You going to keep the baby or set it up for adoption?"

"Keep it." I replied defensively. He sighed and scratched his head.

"What if... what if Edith don't want that?"

"Why? What do you mean? Has she said anything?" I quizzed, narrowing my eyes at him.

"No. Nah, course not. I was just wondering." He shook his head. "Forget it. Let's just enjoy this."

"Yeah. Frostbite and pneumonia. Fantastic." I grumbled, but we both ended up laughing. It felt good to laugh like that, freely, enjoying ourselves, and for a moment I could forget everything. 

It was mid-day when we got back. Lunch time. We were starving, so we ate sandwiches as soon as we got back. 

Edith did not join us.

So as soon as I finished. I went to check on her. I knocked first.

"Babe? You had lunch? Baby, can I come in?"

Silence.

I opened the door. Her bed was empty, cold. Her bathroom door was closed. I pressed my ear against he door. There was a silent sob coming from inside.

"Edie?" I called.

The sobbing stopped.

"Babe, are you alright?" I tried to open he door, but it was locked. "Edie, come one, baby. Open the door. Please.

Nothing.

So I decided to get the keys from the house keeper. I returned, armed with keys. 

"Edith, I'm coming in." I told her, turning the key in the lock.

I slowly opened the door. At first glance, she wasn't there. But my blood chilled. My heart stopped.

There was a trail of scarlet blood, leading to behind the door. I poked my head round. There she was, crouched on the floor, panting, breathing heavily, a dangerous and wild look in her eyes.

"Go away." She growled firmly.

"Edie, are you-"

"Go away. Now." She demanded, before grunting, squeezing her eyes shut and pushing. She took a breath, now on her hands and knees, before doing it again.

"Whoa, hey, okay." I shut the door and joined her on the floor. But then I noticed something silver, and stained with red. I knife. "What the-"

She gave a low moan, pushed and gave a high pitched squeal.

"Edie, what's this?" I asked, taking the knife away from her. 

She panted, braced herself, gave one last push and it all came out, blood, placenta, and baby. She then vomited on the floor and flopped down, laying on her back, motionless.

I whimpered, staring at her pale face. She was just lying there, not caring about the baby. The hand which I held the knife with shook violently, and I threw it across the bathroom.

The baby. 

It hadn't cried.

 But it was squirming, turning blue-er by the second. I took hold of her, soiling my clothes in deep red blood. 

"Come on, my baby girl, come on, breathe." I whispered, trying my best to clear her airways of the horrible, slimy layer that covered her. "Stella." Yes. That sounded right. "Stella, my girl, come on. Fight for daddy, come on." I was sobbing now.

Her squirms were weakening, her body slowly flopping.

"No, sweet pea. Stella. Breathe. Come on." I cried. "Edith, do something!" I yelled.

All she did was cough and cough and cough, until she coughed up blood.

My gaze was locked on her, until my baby girl stopped moving.

"Stella. No." I wept. "Come on, wake up, keep trying."

She gave one last convulsion, before death consumed her, and she moved no more, her little heart coming to a stand still. I let my head back, opened my mouth, and yelled out at the top of my lungs.

She was dead. My baby girl, a minute old, was dead.