Epilogue - Obsequey {The Death of Art}

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Epilogue – Obsequey {The Death of Art}

“Alright Misses Warner…let’s have a look shall we?” the doctor smiled as he began the ultrasound. We were all silent for a moment and then he spoke again. “Ah! There are the little devils!” he cringed as he looked at Marilyn. “I meant no offence…”

“None was taken.” Marilyn smirked at the doctor and then kissed me sweetly. “Devils?”

“Yes…there… two heart beats…you’re carrying twins, misses Warner…” the doctor smiled at us and then looked at the screen again… and frowned. “Must’ve moved…hang on…I’ll just…” the doctor moved the ultrasound probe across my stomach in search of the second heartbeat again, turning the screen away so we couldn’t see. “Hmm…okay, you two just relax for a moment, I just want to check something…I’ll be right back, I promise.”

“What’s wrong?” I asked frantically.

The doctor merely smiled at me and left. I lay there wringing my hands as Marilyn whispered to me encouragingly as we waited.

The doctor returned…with a second doctor. “Hi, I’m Doctor Partel. Doctor Ashton has asked me to take a look at you…is that okay?” I nodded. “Okay…” Doctor Partel placed the ultrasound probe on my stomach again and stared blankly at the screen for a moment before pointing at something. “Okay, Misses Warner, the twins are fine…but…one of them may have a heart murmur…if this is the case…in the worst case scenario, that foetus may die.” I felt a part of me die, but my heart fluttered at her next words. “But she’s doing fine right now, we’ll just need to keep a close eye on you and the twins…say, check-ups every three weeks?” I nodded. “Good, I’ll sort that out for you…okay, well, I’ll see you in three weeks.

***

I grimaced at the pain in my stomach again as Doctor Partel watched the screen with concern and then sighed dejectedly. “Misses Warner…we need to get you into surgery.”

“Why?” I asked, terrified; shouting when she didn’t reply. “Tell me why!”

“So I can save your unborn child’s life…” Doctor Partel shouted back, then sobered. “And yours…”

***

Finis’

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Manson ~ There is truly no way to belong, the people that belong are the jocks and the air heads that pretend to be something they’re not.

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