The Mating Games

chapter 36: Getting back on track

My death had been announced at 4:17 in the morning, half way between the dark forests of my nightmares and the safe haven I had called home. The paramedics had rushed to stop the bleeding and stabilise my dying body; the rest had been a blur. Vague memories of yelling and an intense pressure on my chest had plagued my mind; like the taunts of a child bully, they nagged and nagged and nagged.

People have described the moment they had died and gone to heaven, saying it felt like going home; peaceful and calm. Maybe God had just wanted them to pop in, have a quick drink and then off they go back to earth. I couldn't say the same; my mind was in limbo when I had died, like a mundane purgatory that consisted of darkness and silence. It was lonely.

People had rejoiced when my body was brought back from the depths of death; said I was lucky. It didn't feel lucky, it felt like hell; it felt like I was trapped in a loop, replaying my own personal hell over and over until I wanted to scream. Death would have been better than this.

Theo of course, hadn't shared the same sentiment with me when I had expressed my longing to go back to deaths sweet clutch. He had called me selfish and cruel, and maybe I was. But my body thrummed in pain every second of every day, even after the morphine had numbed my butchered body, it couldn't numb the pain from a broken heart.

"She was so little, her lungs not developed enough," the doctor had said. "She didn't make the drive to the hospital," I wanted to scream or cry but the energy had been drained from my body, the will to fight gone. And I had stopped, stopped doing everything; my days consisted of lying in bed and staring out the window. I was like sleeping beauty, stuck in a forever slumber.

"Summer," my eyes snapped open to see the familiar green leaves of the hospital window, "are you going to eat today?" It had only been a week, what did I need the food for?

I shook my head and felt the defeated slump of his shoulders as Theo laid back down into his chair. He hadn't left the hospital even once since I had been rushed into the ER. The man had been living in the visitor chair for weeks, crumpled up uncomfortably while I had healed physically.

"What's the point?" I mumbled into the pillow.

"WHAT'S THE POINT? The point is that I love you and I want you to get better!" Theo burst out, scrapping the chair backwards with so much force it toppled over onto the ground.

I snapped my eyes over to his heaving form, a red tint glowing behind my baby blues. "There is no fucking point now! My baby is gone!" I snapped back with just as much force.

"Your baby? She was both of ours, Summer!" he had turned to face me, his fists balled up with tension. "Don't think I'm not grieving, 'coz I am. Fuck! I wanted her just as much as you did, even more!"

I heaved my aching body up so I could look into his eyes; they shined with unshed tears; "How could you love her more than me? I carried her inside of me, I was supposed to protect her!" the dams burst and tears rained down from both of our eyes. We were quiet, both caught up in the intensity of the moment we didn't have the words to express it. I wiped my arm across my nose, sniffling up the snot that was bound to drip out; "It was all my fault."

He cradled my face between his roughened hands and wiped the stray tears from my face, "It wasn't your fault."

I scrunched my nose up and sniffled the tears away; "then why does it feel that way?" it was like weeks of emotions had burst out at one time, like a tsunami they flooded my being. Theo was fairing no better, this was his time to lament as well and after trying to keep it together for me, he was cracking.

I had forgotten how good it felt to be held in his large arms, to have his warmth wrapping around me a blanket. It was peaceful, in fact it was the first time since I had woken up that I didn't feel like dying. I never thought the feeling was going to go away.