It Was All a Mistake (A Selection Fanfiction)

Chapter 39: Secrets are Spilled

Brianna's PoV:

It's been a couple days since the "incident." Ever since then, I've been having nightmares about that night. Even Evan noticed that my behavior seems different.

I slip on a lilac dress and walk over to the mirror, inspecting my face to see if I look presentable. "Arggh, I look like I've been crying for the past decade," I moan, and try dabbing more concealer in an attempt to hide the redness under my eyes. "Maybe cause you were," a masculine voice says behind me. I spin around to see the prince in front of me, his blue eyes sparkling in the sunlight. "Hello, darling," he greets, kissing my cheek. "Humph," I shake my head at the choice of his words, and he chuckles. I watch as he passes my desk, and hold my breath when he comes upon a picture frame. Please don't look at it, please don't look at it, please don't look at it, I repeat in my head silently. Unfortunately, he does. "What's this?" he pivots to glance at me, but I stare at my feet.

His fingers grasp onto the frame lightly, and he gazes at the picture for a long time. It's a picture of a baby, probably 1 or 2 days old, and he's settled in my mother's lap. He has hazel eyes and the same hair color as me. On the day he was born, mother said that he was "A blessing from above," but then something dreadful happened.

I remember the day so clearly. I was 12 years old, about to turn 13 in 2 weeks, and Heather was 8. We had gathered by my mother, so excited for the birth of our soon-to-be brother. It all seemed to be going fairly well when sudden chaos occurred. I can still see the entire event in my brain as if it happened 10 minutes ago. The red lights flashing, the loud noise of clashing metal carts, the repetitive beeping of the heart rate machine.

"Brianna? Bree!?" a concerned looking Evan shakes me gently. "Uh-uh---" I collapse into his arms, trembling. An overflow of tears run down my cheeks, landing on Evan's shirt. I am expecting Evan to ask me what's wrong, but instead he silently brushes away my tears and hugs me. After what seems like hours, we let go of each other and I wipe the tears off my face.

"Feeling better?" Evan raises an eyebrow. I nod, and take the picture. "You don't have to-" Evan starts, but I cut him off. "But I want to," I set the frame back down, and inhale a deep breath, preparing myself for more tears. After telling him the beginning, my eyes are burning and so is my heart. "If you want to stop tha-" Evan tries again, but I silence him by putting my finger in front of his mouth.

"My sister and I looked at each other when the alarms started to ring, and immediately a group of doctors and nurses and technicians came into the room, trying to see what was going on," I pause, attempting to calm myself, "Umm, well, the baby came out, but my mom was in panic-mode. When the doctors took Peter, the baby, all I remember is my mother screaming a blood-curdling cry that I thought would shatter my eardrums," I laugh quietly, but continue, "Fortunately, nothing major was wrong... my mother's heart rate was just low, but it was a temporary thing. But... uh... Peter... he was diagnosed with meningitis... a disease in which the meninges is inflamed...." a tear slips out, but I quickly dab it away, "The doctors knew immediately when they took his temperature. Peter already had an intense fever and his muscles weren't as... well... movable as most babies. They told us that there was a 25% chance of him dying- even with treatment. My mother took the chance and it all looked pretty good... until the day after his first treatment," I prepare myself for the worst part, "We received a call from the neonatologist  that he had stopped breathing and they were putting him on air tubes and multiple IVs. My mom freaked out and we rushed back over to the hospital. The picture was taken that day, when my mom gave up hope and took Peter out of his suffering. A couple seconds before he died, she picked him up and placed him in her lap. That's where Peter died... in the comforting love of my mom," I finish, and soon, I'm weeping loudly.

"I'm so sorry," Evan whispers softly, rocking side to side with me in his arms. I shake my head, crying hard. I feel Evan rubbing my back, trying to desperately calm me down. "No, I'm sorry," I protest, "I should've told you earlier... my family and I try to pretend like this never happened... we never talk about it at home, much less in public," I admit, my face still damp with tears. "The fact that you even told me," Evan holds my hands, "Is an honor."