I'm Not Hungry

Three

I look at the little lives in front of me. So many questions are going through my mind right now.

Are they mine? Why don't they have names? Can I name them? How am I supposed to give them a childhood when I hardly had one myself?

Okay, first things first. I'm pretty sure that they're mine. After all, they were left on my doorstep. As for the names, I'm not so sure. What could I name them? Wait, I've got it.

Chevy Vera Jackson and Caleb Adam Jackson. Perfect.

And my last question? Well, I'll just have to make sure that theirs is better than mine was. Am I really doing this?

Yes, yes I am. Ring. Don't get me wrong I love kids, but if this is another baby, a bitch will be cut. I quickly fill out the name spot on their tags. Leaving Caleb and Chevy on the counter, I jog to the door. Holy shit, why is my house so big? Maybe I'm just out of shape. Yep, that's it. I slowly open the door only to shut it again when I see who's outside.  Ian Clampson.

"Will you just open the door?" he demands. Ha, if you think it'll be that easy, you've got another thing coming.

"And why should I?" I ask grouchily. He doesn't talk for a few moments.

"Because we need to talk," he says finally. I sigh deeply and open the oak door, once more. "Thank you."

Then, Chevy starts crying. "Oh jeez..." I mutter. Ian looks at me expectantly. "My kids," I explain lamely.

"You have a kid?!" he exclaims immediately.

I hold up two fingers. "Two of 'em." Now he just looks angry so I continue. "Well, I got home this afternoon and watched some t.v.. Then, the doorbell rings, I open it and all that's there are the two babies. Bang, now I got two kids and I have no idea what the hell I'm supposed to do!" I fume. He visibly calms while I'm talking.

"So they're not actually yours? You didn't give birth to them? What did you name them?" Ian fires questions at me rapidly.

"Yes they're actually mine, but not legally, and no I did not give birth to them. Would you like to meet them?" I answer almost all of his questions.

"Yes!" he yells without hesitation. He's always loved children. I run back to the kitchen where Chevy is still crying loudly. "So, names?" I pick my child up and point to their tags. Ian looks at them both, but I can't see his expression because he's facing away from me. He speaks again. "Why?" He's still not looking at me but I can hear his voice waver. I begin to rock Chevy.

"To be honest, I guess I'm still not over it. Not over them. You remember the note," I say sadly.

"Note?"

"Chevy's," I whisper. She's almost asleep. Ian faces me and raises a slender eyebrow. "You never saw it?"

"No?" he says, but it comes out as a question.

"Chevy's suicide note." His face pales but he quickly covers it.

"Speaking of..." he trails off, looking sternly in my direction. I bury my face into baby Chevy's blanket, hiding. You should have let me die.

"If this is what you came here for, you might as well leave," I say, my voice muffled by the cotton of the blanket.

"Belle, what have you done to yourself? Why can't you be happy? Why-" I would be happy if I were dead.

"Did you just ask me why I can't be happy? Are you joking? Do you think I want to be moping all the time? Do you actually believe that I chose this life for myself?" I yell, picking my head up out of the blanket and successfully wake up the kids once again. I sigh, put Chevy in her basket and walk up the stairs to my room. I become dizzy on the second flight of stairs and have to stop for a second. Next thing I know I'm falling down both flights and I can barely breathe. The last thing I remember is Ian standing over me, yelling to someone on the phone. Then, darkness.

-----

Beep. Beep. Beep. Turn the god damn thing off! I struggle to open my eyes, but when I do I see Ian sleeping on the edge of the bed. Wait, this isn't my bed. Looking at my surroundings, I quickly realize it's a hospital. I'm hooked up to four different machines, have a tube up my nose and my kids are nowhere in sight. Where'd he put 'em? His ass will be beat senseless if my children are harmed in any way, shape or form. Wow. I've known them for about an hour and this already.

I try tell in Ian to wake up, but my voice won't work. Instead, I settle for kicking him with my limited strength. "Shit," Ian mutters tiredly. He glances in my direction and his eyes widen. "You're awake! Do you need anything? Blanket, water, food? Anything?" He asks, looking at me intently.

I tap my throat signaling that I need water. Ian nods and literally runs out of the white room. As I look to the right, I notice a button. Curiosity killed the cat...

Am I supposed to care or something? I press the red button and immediately a nurse comes rushing in. "Oh, honey, did you need something?" Just then, Ian speed walks back in and hands me the red solo cup. Hey, isn't that a song?

Taking the cup from his hands I nearly drop it, ever though it weighs virtually nothing. I take slow, tentative sips of the cool liquid, savoring the feeling of it gliding down the back of my throat. I look back to the nurse. "Why am I here?" I ask in a low, raspy voice. That does not sound pretty. A voice to match the face.

"Honey, you've been suffering from malnutrition for a while. Have you been eating correctly? You are severely underweight. That's what the tube is for. It was feeding you while you were asleep. What, exactly, has been happening at home?" The nurse babbles while asking me questions.

"Nothing's been happening at home. My dad's dead, my brother lives at college and my mom's in California." I say nonchalantly, even though it kills me inside. I look over at Ian, but he's already staring at me, mouth agape.

"Nick died?" He asks in a small voice that I can hardly believe came from him. He and my dad always got along, and Ian was like a son to him. How did he not know?

Oh right. He was already gone. I nod a small, pitiful nod, my eyes cast downward. A couple long seconds later, I hear a door slam and look up only to find Ian gone. Of course he left. They all leave eventually.