Twisting Fate Page 16

  Tightening my eyes shut, it becomes clearer as to what I'm looking at. I can see a small body hooked to machines and wires. What I see next knocks the breath clear out of my lungs and I fall forward onto the palms of my hands.

  Those beautiful, blonde curls are matted and her face is scraped up. Her eye is bruised and swollen; her lips cracked. That beautiful face I remember is altered into something that crushes me.

  Please don't be dead. You can't be dead.

  Someone else in a white lab coat walks around to the monitor keeping track of vitals. She's talking to someone, but whom I can't see. A nurse rolls in some kind of machine and stops beside the doctor. The doctor turns toward the girl in the bed and I can now see her side profile as she lifts the hospital gown, exposing skin.

  Something about that doctor seems familiar. It's like I've seen her before.

  The pain is still immense, but it's more tolerable now that something else is taking more of my focus. I want to know she's okay. The doctor was blocking the view, but she turns to pick something up off the cart and that's when I notice her swollen stomach.

  What the fuck?

  The doctor squirts something on top of her bare stomach and touches some kind of object connected to the rolling monitor in the center of the substance. She begins rolling it around and I'm really confused until she turns the monitor, slightly revealing a black screen. My heart rate speeds up when I see what flashes across the screen: a baby. It's tiny, but it's moving.

  What does this mean? What the hell does this mean?

  "Bryce."

  "Bryce."

  "Bryce!"

  I blink a few times and feel something moist trickle down my cheeks, clearing the vision as if it wasn’t there. Maria is holding my face between her palms, swiping the wetness away with her thumbs. I didn’t even realize I was back in an upright position, kneeling on my knees. "Esta bien, hijo. Estoy aqui ahora. Que viste? (It's okay, son. I'm here now. What did you see?)"

  "Baby." I recognize some of the words I’ve become familiar with, piecing the rest together. It takes every ounce of energy in my frozen state to get it across my lips.

  I can't blink. I can't speak. I just kneel, completely still and she squints back at my response as if she's just as confused as I am. "Tell me what you saw."

  My heart is pounding in my chest as if it's working double time to pump the blood needed throughout my body. My eyes continue to release tears from the corner ducts. I feel like I'm being strangled each time I speak. Nothing comes from my lips but a gasp for air.

  Pregnant. By whom? What the hell happened to her?

  I am so confused, and that feeling in the pit of my stomach has eased a little with the disappearance of the vision. Is she real or is she made up in my mind? My beautiful girl is in a hospital. Automatically, the worst thoughts come to mind: rape, abuse, attempted murder. I have so many questions, but what I need are answers.

  "The girl is pregnant and hurt." I can't say anymore. It was all I could do to get that small sentence out of my mouth. Could she really be real? If she's real then does that mean that she was mine? I have had some very graphic visions, but I thought it was just my mind trying to heal. As the thought crosses my mind my heart feels full and begins to ache like it’s longing for her. My hand instantly goes over it and begins to rub in an attempt to relieve the pain.

  Oh. My. Bloody. Fuck.

  The realization makes my blood run cold. Anger surges through my body, igniting me. "Bryce? Tell me what's wrong."

  Standing to my feet I back away from her. I'm so angry I don't need to be close to her right now. I don't want to hurt her. My jaw steels and my hands go for my hair trying to keep from hitting something. "Bryce. Talk to me."

  She stands and begins walking toward me. "Stop." Her eyes take on a look that crushes me, but I can't risk hurting the people that I've come to love. I need to cool off, because I just officially determined that life is a mother-fucking bitch.

  "Please don't shut me out. I want to help you." My blood is boiling and my hands are shaking. I look from her to Marcus and back to her. She gets it. "Marcus, honey, go to your room for a little while. Okay?

  He looks worried, but I will preserve his innocence at all costs. He doesn't need anything else to worry about. He has been giving it his all to try and help me get my memories back. He's a good kid and right now I can't guarantee that my language will be censored. "Okay, mom."

  I watch as he makes his way up the stairs to his room before I turn back to look at her. By the look on her face she is trying to figure out what it is that I've already figured out. I am very selective in what I tell her of the visions I've had. Some things you just don't need to fill your mother in on, blood or not. The rated R ones I've skimmed over on the details. I like to keep them to myself anyway, because I feel like they are mine and mine alone; they are private. I don't want anyone else to know her the way I know her in my dreams and visions.

  "Tell me what's going on."

  I have no idea how I'm going to say this. I don't think there is an easy way, so maybe I should just put it out there. Maybe she will tell me I'm insane and admit me to a mental facility for observation. I have a very strong feeling though that what I'm about to say is the complete truth whether I know the details or not and that scares the shit out of me.

  "I think I'm going to be a father."

  I stand here and wait for her reaction. Her mouth drops slightly, but she remains calm. Her eyes daze out as she looks at me. I'm not sure what is fixing to come out of those lips, but I wait for it. Her big brown eyes begin to get glossy and then the tears that were filling them begin to spill over. Well that wasn't the reaction I was expecting.

  "Are you sure?"

  Am I sure? I ponder on that question briefly. I allow my mind to go back to some of the visions, all of which are of her. Each one I'm viewing as if I'm behind the lens of a camera. I think back on the way that I feel even knowing she could be a figment of my imagination. I'm completely and irrevocably in love with her. The emotional connection is so fierce I can't even understand it. I'm not sure about a lot of things, but of this I'm sure.

  "Yes."

  One word and the shade in my world lightens a little from black to gray. I don't know all of the details, but my heart and my soul are telling me I'm right. Maybe my brain just needs time to catch up. I do know this; I don't care what oceans I have to cross or what hurdles I have to jump, I will find out who she is and I will find her. I may not know her name or where she is, but with all that I am I believe she is the absolute one for me.

  "Maybe it's time we call Dr. Rodriguez. He may have some answers as to why you are having these kinds of visions." She looks hopeful, but this is something that is higher than science. I don't know why I'm able to have them, but I have to believe it's for a reason. Someone needs me, after all. She needs me.

  I'm quickly brought back to the matter at hand as I stand here trying to figure out why I'm having this epiphany and that's not even the important part. I sling my hand across the top of the table that rests against the wall, knocking over everything that sits on top. The various shapes and colors of glass shatter against the hard floor. I think I should stay away from all objects when I’m mad. This has happened before.

  I feel something wet run down my hand and when I look down I notice it's blood. A piece of the glass must have cut me in my lapse of good judgment. I don't even care. A little scratch isn't hurting me as bad as knowing that the girl I'm in love with is hurt and carrying my unborn child. What’s worse is I still don't know how to get to her or where she even is.

  I place my palms down on top of the table and drop my head, chin to chest. "She's hurt, mom. How am I supposed to know that she's okay if I can't get to her?"

  My heart tells me I love her, but my brain is holding out on how much. It's choosing the bits and pieces that it gives me. It's like a sick joke, really. Am I supposed to stay here until I learn some kind of major life lesson and then all of a sudden my
mind will stop fucking around and give me my memories back?

  "I need to find her." I think I'm trying to convince myself more than Mom.

  She walks over slowly as if I may attack her, and grabs my bleeding hand in her own. Wrapping it with a hand towel she looks up at me. Her eyes speak volumes as they lock with mine. "We will find her, Bryce." I believe with all my heart that she means it.

  Chapter 12

  Kinzleigh

  I officially feel like I've been hit by a train. My eyes feel like they are glued shut and my whole face hurts. My hand is sweating and connected with another. I'm tired, but confused. The beeping of a machine brings me into focus with reality.

  Where am I?

  I work really hard to pry open my eyes, but after a few seconds am successful. My throat is dry and I need water. As I look around I realize I'm in the one place I can't seem to stay away from: a hospital.

  I look over to my left and see Riggan with his head on the mattress sleeping. The events of the night begin to come back to me: getting upset at the bar, running outside, the car. I don't remember much after seeing the car's headlights. It's all a haze in my head. What I do know is that I feel like death is standing at my doorstep. I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this.

  "Riggan."

  My voice causes him to jolt awake. He looks at me and instantly I feel guilty. His eyes are red and bloodshot. He looks exhausted and upset. "Are you okay?"

  "I'm so sorry, Kinzleigh. I didn't get to you in time. I tried. Really, I did. You look horrible. I'm so sorry." His voice breaks as each word exits his mouth. I'll admit I feel horrible, but why is he sorry?

  "Riggan, you didn't do anything. Stop being ridiculous."

  "Why did you leave then?" He is starting to look confused.

  "That song just reminded me of...someone. It triggered some things I wasn't prepared for is all."

  "I still shouldn't have had you there. You're pregnant for fucks sake. I let my own demons detour my mind from a normal state." That one word causes chills to run down my spine: Pregnant.

  Oh God, please let this baby be okay.

  What is wrong with me? Am I really that selfish that I don't think about this baby enough to protect it? I was only supposed to do one thing and I can't even handle that. I look down at my belly as tears begin to trickle down my face.

  Placing my hands on top of the growing bump I do the only thing I know of: pray.

  Dear God,

  Please protect this baby. I know I haven't done a very good job of protecting it myself, but if you'll spare its life I promise to do better. From here on out I will think of the baby and only the baby first. I will put its needs in front of my own. This is the only piece of him I have left. Please, if you'll do this, consider it my last request.

  Amen.

  I open my eyes and Riggan is eying my belly and inching his hand closer in proximity. "It's okay. You can touch it."

  He looks unsure, but rests his hand flat on my belly. "Are you scared? You know...of being a teen mom."

  I think over the question. I really haven't spent much time thinking about the baby. I've kind of put it at the back of my mind, because I'm scared of where my thoughts will lead. Before, the only thing I've really considered is the fact that my cheerleading career was pretty much over before it got started. I'm not even sure if I will be able to cheer in college now since freshman year starts before I give birth.

  I begin to think about all the money that it's going to take to raise this baby. These are all things I haven't even considered until I'm faced with the possibility of losing it. I don't want to be one of those girls that live off my parents. Maybe I should start looking for a part time job to save some money. I probably have enough to get started, but what about when it gets here? Diapers, food and formula aren't cheap and that doesn't even include childcare for when I'm in school. I guess that definitely cancels out UCLA in the fall. I was trying not to think about it, but it’s coming quickly. Breyson had agreed to attend school there because it’s where I wanted to be, but I can't afford to live on my own, pay living expenses and baby necessities, along with childcare.

  Growing up I’m maturing and more frequently thinking of how hard it will be and how much I will have to sacrifice to be a young mother. There is still only one option that comes to mind. No matter what I have to do I want this baby. I already know I'll never love anyone else in the way that I loved Breyson, but I'd rather have something left of him than nothing at all.

  "Yes, I am scared, but it's all I have left of the most amazing man I've ever or will ever meet." He looks at me as if he knows exactly what I mean, longing for the one he no longer has present in his eyes.

  He removes his hand and stands as a knock sounds on the other side of the door and opens. Breyson's mom and my mom walk in with a nurse behind them rolling some kind of cart. "I'm glad you're awake," Breyson's mom says as she walks to the other side of the bed, furthest from the door.

  Riggan begins to walk towards the door and for the first time I notice a cast on his lower arm and hand. He also has a slight limp when he walks.

  What happened to him?

  He stops at the door and turns around as they set up the machine next to the bed. Mom stops by my head and begins rubbing her hand over my hair as if she's scared to look away. "I'm so glad you're okay," she says.

  I can't look away from Riggan. I stare at him as he stares back at me. There's something that I'm missing, but what? "Will the baby be okay?" He is speaking to the doctor, but never breaks eye contact with me. What is eating at his soul? The guilt is so strong that even I can feel it.

  "We should know soon," she says. "I will let you know as soon as I know something. Okay?" He just nods and walks out the door.

  As he disappears a realization occurs. I need him, and I think he needs me just as much. We have a mutual connection; a common ground. I need repentance and he needs deliverance. The two of us will either save each other or destroy each other. I'm hoping for the former, but it's a risk I'm willing to take.

  My hospital gown being lifted above my belly brings my attention back to the present. I grab onto the bed rails as my nerves begin to get the better of me. "This may be a little cold." She squirts clear goo on my belly from the tube in her hand. "You took quite a hit. If it weren't for that boy you and this baby would both be dead."

  I gasp at that word: death. The sad thing and the part that scares me, is that the actual thought of death doesn't scare me, but excites me. Why does it excite me? Well, because I would get to be with Breyson again. That kind of love is the dangerous kind, the kind that drives people over the edge. It's the kind that you don't come back from, the irreversible kind.

  I stare at the ceiling as I realize just how crazy I'm starting to sound, even to myself. This isn't healthy, but I don't know how to fix myself. I feel my mom wipe her finger up the side of my face, clearing a fallen tear. "It's okay, Honey. It's okay to be scared."

  If she knew the things I were thinking she should be the one that's scared. Her daughter is having thoughts of how death would be better than life. I'm pretty sure that is enough to admit me to the psych ward. It can't be any worse than being in my own head.

  Something hard touches my belly and begins gliding in different directions. After a few seconds, a swooshing sound fills my ears, causing me to look at the monitor. It looks so different this time. Instead of a peanut, it looks like a baby, an alien baby, but a baby nonetheless. The eye sockets are bigger than I would imagine they will be, but the rest looks like a small baby. I can see a flutter on the screen where the heart is.

  An ache fills my chest cavity and for the first time since Breyson died I feel like my heart is trying to revive itself. I can see its small limbs moving occasionally. She continues to move the wand in different areas to check everything for normalcy, or so she says. I just stare in awe watching our baby; something we created together. "It's still early, and I wouldn't start buying gender associated colors until next month at
your five month ultrasound, but do you want to know the sex?"

  My face hurts, but I don't care. I smile as big as I can manage and begin nodding my head. She moves the wand around until she stops. The baby's legs come into focus and they are spread slightly, revealing the genitals. "Do you see that? Look right here," she says as she points at the screen. "It looks like you're going to have a son. Unless a miracle happens and something changes, it's a boy."

  A boy...just like the dream.

  The night before I visited Breyson at the cemetery I had a dream. I live to sleep, because it's the one place I get to be happy again. Most nights I dream about my beautiful blue-eyed boy. Each time, they are completely real; a continuance of the life we never got to live. That dream almost broke me; almost took my very lungs from my body, leaving no option to breathe.

  It was just Brey and I rocking on the front porch, my belly swollen out in front of me. The air was crisp, the sun warming my skin, and a cool breeze brushed against my face taking my hair into a dance. It was the perfect fall day. I was staring out into the newly landscaped flower garden Breyson had done for me to admire. All of the bright colors leave me peaceful and happy. He stands and moves in closer to me. "How's my son," he asks and kneels on his knees so he is eye level with my round belly. He places both hands flat on my stomach and kisses my protruding belly button covered by my thin, cotton maxi dress.

  As soon as he hears his daddy's voice he begins moving, causing a hard lump to form underneath Breyson's left hand. "He's good today; excited to hear his daddy, as usual. I think we need to re-evaluate the name situation, Brey. He needs a name."

  He looks at me with his eyes smoldering and deep, penetrating into the depths of my soul. I always get lost in the aura that radiates from him, holding me to him. I'll never become used to this. If I died today I'd die a happy woman. I've come to learn that the greatest treasures in life are the simple things that make the heart light and the soul free; I was living it. Life’s meant to be lived to the fullest, to love and to be loved. When you experience a love like we have what else do you need? It's a gem in its most rare form and the brightest of colors. When he looks at me like this my heart skips a beat and my breaths shorten, making it difficult to breathe.