Destined

II

4:56am

Erin entered her small, rotting apartment and was greeted with the whiff of musk and emptiness. Trying to catch her breath as she had just climbed up four floors, she had her stilettos dangling off her index finger on one hand and a brown paper bag on the other.

What was in the bag, you ask?

Vodka

It was her true friend. Never will it judge her. Never will it leave her. Never will it disobey her. It was the one and only things that got her through the day, that allowed her to forget. Well, that and, of course, Noah.

She knows not to get wasted with him around. It wouldn't be what a good mother would've done.

Like she's even a good mother...

But still; she tries not to get Noah exposed to her bad decisions and questionable lifestyle. She knows better than to be Bunny.

And anyway, it's not like she drinks every single day, just maybe almost every day. But then again, that came with the job. Sometimes the guy's at the strip club would buy her drinks. Sometimes she'd decline their offer but most of the time she needed to wash down the disgust she felt.

"Shit!" she cried, holding up her foot as a stepped on one of Noah's toys.

She didn't stop by at Annie's to pick Noah up, figuring it was still quite early. The sun hasn't rose yet and she needed time to catch up on some much needed sleep, alone, without her son. As much as she loves her baby, she just couldn't stand him him recently.

At first, she freaked out when Noah hadn't start teething at six months. While all the mother's at the clinic were raving about how cute their babies looked with tiny white teeth growing on their pink gums, Noah still looked like an old man as he smiled.

You're just a little late, baby. It's ok.

That was what she kept on telling Noah and her guilt self. But then the seventh, eighth, ninth and tenth month went by, his teeth still was not breaking out.

She knew it was her fault why.

He was born premature and was merely even three pounds. He was so tiny and still needed more time to develop and grow inside her. But she was underweight, had high blood pressure, was constantly stressed and was still stripping, everything added up into her going into preterm labour.

She wasn't strong enough, both - mentally and physically.

That was her doing.

She had been drinking, smoking and experimenting on all sorts of drugs up until she found out that she was with child. And she was already nine weeks along when she started noticing changes.

She was scared when she first found out. Of course she was. Knowing that she had to not only go through the pregnancy all on her own, but also, be a single parent, be a role model to this tiny human being, provide for the life she had created, give it the life she've never had. Having Noah terrified her.

She went to an OB clinic, very well knowing that she had to come clean with the doctor, very well knowing that she needed professional help, very well knowing that she couldn't do the detox all on her on. So for the first time since she started abusing illicit drugs, she wholeheartedly agreed to a week-long detox programme.

Now at eleven months, Noah had just finally started teething and she could be any happier. While she was very much ecstatic, she had totally underestimated how much more difficult it would be. He would cry all the damn time, even more than usual. It seemed like crying was the only thing he did all day long. She didn't know an infant could cry as much as he does.