into the night [cazzie]

eight

IZZIE HAD BEEN IN THE HOSPITAL THREE TIMES IN HER LIFE. Nothing bad had ever happened; it was always for the birth of her siblings. She only remembered two of them, as she had only been about one year old when Lydia was born. On the other hand, Izzie remembered Luca's birth vividly.

It was March of 2013, months before her father left for good. The walls of the hospital waiting room were painted a bright yellow. Izzie had sat in a soft sofa, staring at the many paintings that were hung up around the room. She especially liked the one of the daffodils, her favorite flower. After a long while, Izzie began to grow impatient waiting for her mom to come out of the room with her new baby sibling. They had arrived the night before, but Izzie's mom had been in labor for over twelve hours.

Through the night, Lydia and Izzie alternated being asleep and being awake to wait for news from their mom. After what had seemed like forever, Izzie woke up around the six o'clock mark, which she saw on the clock hanging from the wall. She was about to doze back to sleep, her eyes drifting shut, but she was awoken by her dad's voice.

"Isabella!" he grinned widely, despite the fact that he looked like he had been awake for over 24 hours straight (which was true). "Wake Lydia up! He's here!" She gently jostled her sister awake, and they followed their dad to the delivery room. Their dad stopped in front of the door, turning around to his kids. "Are you guys ready?"

The two nodded eagerly, excited to meet their baby brother.

Without skipping a beat, her father gently and slowly pushed the door open. He signalled for the girls to be quiet, which they followed. He tiptoed inside, not wanting to interrupt anything or disturb the newborn. Izzie and Lydia followed suit, being very careful as they made their way to their mother's bed. She looked tired, her cheeks flushed and her face sweaty, but Izzie swore she had never seen her mom happier.

"Meet Luca Giovanni San Maria," their father placed a hand on Izzie's shoulder as she looked at the young newborn.

"Isn't he amazing?" their mother asked, rocking him gently in her arms. His eyes fluttered open, showing his soft amber eyes.

"Yeah," their father smiled, putting an arm around each daughter and pulling them close to him so that they were all huddled near the baby, "we really got lucky with this family."

Izzie thought about that time a lot, especially when the fights started happening. At eleven years old, she would lay in her bed in her dark, lonely room, trying to tune out the shouts and the screams. Then, as if that cacophony wasn't enough, the baby would start crying, having been woken up by the chaos of the house. Izzie didn't blame him; often, hearing her parents yell at one another through the night brought her to tears, too. However, she clung to the hope that everything would be alright, that her parents would make up, and that one day, they would go back to the peacefulness and serenity of the hospital situation, where there was no shouting, no accusing, no violence.

But that day never came. After several months of sleepless nights, screaming matches, and animosity, Izzie's father knew he had had enough. He told Izzie of his plans first. She had always been his favorite, though he insisted he had none. He hated the idea of leaving her, but he knew this was a choice he had to make. He couldn't take her with him, unless he wanted to get stuck in a custody battle that he was likely to lose. It was a shame that the courts were biased towards women in those battles. He wanted so badly to protect his kids, to bring them along with him. But he didn't know where he was going to go. He didn't know if he would be able to support himself, much less himself and three children, one of which was barely half a year old.

And internally, he was a little selfish. He was doing this only for his own gain, not for the sake of his kids. He put himself first, endangering his kids and possibly messing up their lives forever. And as soon as he told Izzie, he saw her face fall and he knew then and there, that this was the most selfish thing he could do. He heard her scream, cry, beg, and everything, but it didn't stop him. After a couple of weeks of silent contemplation, he left on one stormy night in August, and since then, he had never looked back.