Keera Mae

III

III

She looked farther beyond Maria Ellis's bloody hair and saw a baby crawling out of the passenger door. It was a baby boy and he's about 18 months old. “Jean Michael”, she remembered. She ran around and came beside the baby. He didn’t seem harmed, in fact he was playful. He looked so much like his mother; he had the same brown wavy hair, nice soft pink lips, big eyes, pointy nose. He was at the fundraising too in his super cute small tuxedo. His father loved him so much he protected him from the crash.

She thought, The probability of him surviving is little but thank God he survived.

She tried to put the baby gently on her arms but paused when she heard Mrs. Saint Claire’s grunting. Her big wide-finally-opened eyes stared at her, then with her cracking voice she said with a grin, “Mikael is not his father”.

She thought again to herself, my mind isn’t processing anything very well right now so whatever she says will make no sense.

But then she said just right before her body went motionless. “Patrick Berry is his father”.

Her eyes kept staring at her without flinching. No more grunting. No more nothing.

That ultimately freaked her out! She has never seen a lifeless body before. Not like that. She cried her heart out, grabbed the baby and stood up. And that’s when she realized she was also injured. She felt pain right at the back of her ear and it was a little wet and sticky. And she knew that if she touched it, the color would be red. Little broken glasses were still pressed against her back –other cuts and scratches were burning too. Adrenaline fading. Nausea kicking in. She felt dizzy; everything around her was turning her stomach upside down.