You Are My Life

Chapter 21- Cry

Saria’s p.o.v.

3 weeks, a day, and 6 hours. The exact amount of time since I last remembered being happy and waddling around knowing my baby was safe and alive within me. I laid in the bed letting the night air fill the room as I laid with Michael practically sprawled across me. At this point I envied his simplicity, he laid there completely unharmed and deep in sleep while I was left to stay wide awake in my criticism and self-persecution. Every part of my being felt week and numb to every thought, scenario, and voice making its presence known; if you would have just stayed strong you wouldn’t have passed out, that baby could have lived if you wouldn’t have screwed up, what kind of mother allows their child to be harm let alone by their mother? I could feel the tears brimming in my red-sleepless eyes as I tried to keep my sniffles in. I slipped from under Mikes arms as I made my way onto the balcony. I sat in the chair as I looked up at the bright full moon inhabiting the dark night sky. A few stars lit up the darkness here and there but the moon definitely owned the sky. The cold night breeze shook the trees leaving an echo of dead crunchy leaves and the goose-bumps across my bare skin. I wrapped my arms around myself as I took in a big breath and let it out quickly. ‘Why me? What have I done to deserve this? Of all the things to happen to me, why this?’ I sighed knowing my questions wouldn’t be answered in the depths of the night sky. I quietly made my way back to the bathroom and flicked on the light as soon as the door was shut. I stood in front of the mirror; deep lifeless red restless eyes, frizzy frayed hair, dark areas forming rings around my eyes, a permanent scowl in place beneath my nose. What was I doing to myself? Not only did I loose my baby but if I keep this going I’m going to loose Michael, who would want to be stuck with a deteriorating baby killer? I looked down as I let the water run hot in the sink; I grabbed a wash cloth and begin blotting over my forehead and cheeks. I stood there with my hand spread on the counter supporting me, finally I decided to. I opened the cabinet and begin searching for the bottle I had discovered awhile back. ‘Xanax,’ Michael had the medication for when he couldn’t sleep from his insomnia. I unscrewed the lid and took two pills. I paused for a minute; I reached in and grabbed a third pill. I put the bottle back in its place and grabbed the cup sitting on the sink. Within a gulp I ingested all three pills. I sat on the side of the tub for a minute trying to pull myself together, I fell apart little by little everyday that passed. Finally when I started to feel dizzy I picked myself up and stumbled my way back into the bedroom. I sunk into the bed not even caring to pull the covers back over me. Michael moved slightly in his sleep wrapping his arm across my stomach and laying his head in the crook of my neck. He sub-consciously snuggled himself a little more as I became drowsier, finally drifting into unconsciousness.