Burn (Finished! Working on sequel!)

Those last hard months: Age 27

After staying with Gail for about seven and a half months, I was getting closer and closer for my time to deliver the baby. Gail and I had went over names, and had become the best of friends. "Okay, I have a list of the names right here, alright?" I nodded, looking down them. I got to the E's and looked around. "I'm not sure I wanna name her Emerson, just something similar." Gail nodded. We looked some more, chatting about different names, since I was having a girl.

"Here!" Gail looked up from a book. "I think we should name her Ember." I perked up, looking at the book.

Definition: A small piece of burning or glowing coal in a dying fire

I closed the book, smiling. "Thank you, Gail." She nodded. "Anytime, hun." I stood up, holding my aching sides. "There's really not much to do, is there?" I sighed, looking around the room.

I grabbed my coat, throwing on some flip-flops. "I'm going outside for a bit." I turned to Gail. She hesitated. "Oh, um be careful!" "I will." I smiled warmly as I opened the door and stepped outside. My hair whipped in the snow as I squinted, looking around. There was a loud yell coming from my left. A thump could be heard from the distance, it sounded like a body falling into the fresh snow. "Hello?!" I yelled out. No answer. I called out again. "I'm over here...!" A weak voice called out. I slowly waddled my way over to the sound, shielding my eyes.

"Oh!" There was a man, around my age, maybe a bit older, laying in the snow with a slight blood puddle surrounding his left ankle. "Help, please." He cried out. "Err..." I looked around frantically, since I wasn't supposed to lift things heavy at my state. "Help!" I yelled out. He sat up painfully and clasped his hand around my mouth. "Shut up!" He let go. I frowned. "Well, I guess I'll just leave you here." I got up from the squat I was in and started to walk away. "No, wait!" He called. I smirked before I turned around.

"Fine." I grabbed his arms, dragging him across the snow. "Oh, agh!" He yelped. "Oh, shut up." I muttered. I finally dragged him back to the house, where I opened the door with my foot, throwing him inside. "Oh, what do we have here, Emerson?" Gail looked at me, interested. "Let me go get this boy cleaned up." Gail said mischievously. I laughed, plopping down in a chair, taking off my flip flops and coat. I heaved a sigh, placing my hands over my stomach. I started to mutter out the lyrics of an old song:

 

"Hush-a-bye, don't you cry,

Go to sleep my little baby.

When you wake you shall have

All the pretty little horses.

Black and bays, dapples, grays,

All the pretty little horses.

Hush-a-bye, don't you cry,

Go to sleep my little baby.

Hush-a-bye, don't you cry,

Go to sleep my little baby.

When you wake you shall have

All the pretty little horses."

I sighed, finishing off the long, saddening song. I could hear Gail trying to clean the man up, but he kept fidgeting and whining. I laughed to myself, quite amused with this whining man. He's probably going to be even more whiny then my child. I thought. "He's done!" Gail called out. I stood up, maneuvering into the kitchen where we has laying on the small island. I tried not to laugh at the face he was giving me, but it was quite hard.