Hello Rosalynna

Chapter Twenty - Three: Vanishing| ✔

May 8th, 2037

Chapter Twenty-Three: Vanishing| ✔

"That girl lie to you so much, I know her nerves hurt

I'm sorry, I know that your feelings hurt, hurt

That shit's the worst"

Tell The Truth // Trevor Jackson

Ansel Carson

I sauntered into that photo studio with Valentina, Enrique, and Weston. The place reeked of stale coffee and cheap air freshener. We were there for the senior photos, the final hoorah before we got flung into the real world. It felt like we barely even had time for classes this semester, guess we did something right to be taking these pictures.

"My hair looks so good," Valentina was doing that irritating hair flip thing, straight out of those teen dramas. 

Enrique was slouching against the wall, looked like he'd prefer being anywhere else. Weston, well, she was giving the camera that sultry look, like she was auditioning for a movie or something.

The photographer, some guy with hair gel overload, attempted to direct us. "Smile like you mean it!" he bellowed, to Valentina as she tried different smiles.

Enrique grumbled to me from where we were standing, "I really don't get why we have to do this." 

"I just want it to be over," I said as I watched as Weston switched places with Valentina. Senior year was dragging, and these photos felt like the cherry on top of a pretty lame sundae. But hey, at least we were doing it together. We didn't do things together anymore and it's been eating at me. I don't want to talk to them about Daisy or anything. I just needed a break from my thoughts and everything.

We took turns posing against cheesy backdrops, clutching those ridiculous fake diplomas. I had to resist the urge to chuck mine at the photographer. Weston probably would've flung hers like a frisbee if she thought she could get away with it.

In between shots, we cracked jokes, teased each other's poses, and tried not to appear too miserable. Honestly, it was a decent distraction from the doom of adulthood which all of us have been trying to get away from. "That was fun...I guess." Weston said as we finally exited the photography room in the school. We went to our own cars and that is when my phone began to ring. Daisy had not called me for a long ass time so I am wondering why she is calling now.

As soon as I pick up the phone to answer she begins, "Ansel, I'm in labor, the doctor is saying that something is wrong. I don't have anyone else and I know I', not the person you want to hear from but can you please come?"

I could hear the panic and fear in her tone. I caved in, "I'll be there."

The hospital corridor echoed Daisy's cries as I rushed into the labor room. The sterile scent of disinfectant filled the air, and the harsh hospital lighting cast a cold glow on the scene. Daisy lay on the hospital bed, beads of sweat glistening on her forehead. The nurse, with a look of concern, informed me that Daisy had been incoherent and appeared to have used drugs.

My heart pounded, both from the shock of Daisy's condition and the realization that I was about to become a father. The urgency of the situation left no room for contemplation. The doctor, a stern figure in blue scrubs, met my eyes, expressing his concern for the twins' well-being.

Daisy's cries intensified, punctuated by the rhythmic beeping of the fetal heart monitor. The medical team moved swiftly, preparing for the imminent arrival of the babies. Daisy, her face contorted with pain, clutched the bedrails, and I stood there, a mix of shock and anticipation.