Bad Boys

p r o l o g u e

The young women on the bed was trying desperately to focus on the white walls, or maybe it was the voice of the nurse who was telling her what to do. Anything to take her mind away from the pain. She knew it was bad. She read books and took breathing classes for that reason, but she didn't anticipate it being this bad.

"Just breath. Ready? In, out. In, out and push!" She did. Screaming bloody murder, she pushed. The place next to the bed, where there was supposed to be a hand to hold, was empty. She knew it would be, but that didn't stop the crushing disappointment she felt at this realization.

"Okay, good, good. And again, push!" She obeyed, hoping maybe then the process would be over sooner. Sweat sealed strands of her hair to her face, and she didn't bother to care. No one was going to see her. No one was in the waiting room, anxiously awaiting to hear about the gender.

"You're almost there! I can see the head! Push!" She did, though part of her wondered why she was doing this. Why had she kept it? She couldn't have actually gone through with anything, but at this point drowning in ice water to numb her body sounded like a grand plan.

"Push!" And then she heard it. A sharp, shrill cry. And the woman on the bed came undone. She let the tears come. "It's a girl!" One of the nurses laughed. "And she just tried to punch me. This one's a fighter alright." As they cleaned up the newborn, the woman continued to cry.

"What's her name?" It was a different woman speaking this time. She was holding a clipboard.

"Kayla," said the crying woman, "Kayla Jae."

"And her last name, Garner right?"

"No, no, she can't. I cant. Michaelson. If she wants to she can find him. She can find her father."

"Do you want to hold her?" asks the same woman who called the baby a fighter. The woman shook her head. The nurse nodded in understanding, and the baby wailed louder. The woman's resolve crumbled at the sound.

"Wait! Just once? Can I hold her once?"

"Of course." And the baby was placed in her awaiting arms. Her wails silenced and the woman cried harder.

"I'm so sorry, my angel. I'm so sorry, my sweet, sweet Kayla. I love you, so much my darling." The woman peppered the small child with kisses, before pulling away and looking to the nurse who was waiting patiently by the wall.

"Take her, please take her," the woman spoke with urgency and the nurse nodded pulling the newborn, who instantly began to cry again, from her mother's grasp.

"She'll be alright," the nurse said, trying to soothe the grieving mother. The same mother who was trying to convince herself of those very words. She had law school to worry about. The father was long gone. Her parents would never approve if they knew. Nine months of biting her lip and avoiding visits home were already bad enough. She couldn't. But still she watched in agony as her screaming child was carried out of the room by a stranger. And when the door closed behind them, the deal was done. Her daughter was no longer hers. And her daughter had her blue eyes and tufts of her blonde hair.