Miscarriage

She’s four weeks in and everyone is so excited when they hear the news. She’s four weeks in and she’s home alone. She’s four weeks in and her husband is at work while she stays home for the day. She’s four weeks in when she’s doing the dishes. Suddenly, she cramps, tight, sharp pains engulf her stomach.

At first she thinks it’s nothing and gets over it but when she feels warm liquid running down her thighs she looks down to find red saturating her dress. Instantly, she knows what has happened -- her blood runs cold.

The baby never even got a chance, and neither did she.

Infertil

Its late, after the doctors appointment, and she sits crying in his lap. She wants to have his baby, that’s how much she loves him.

Her body, however, doesn’t seem to agree.

She can’t have babies. She never will.

She’ll never have a child, someone to cradle, kiss, hug, and comfort when they cry, she’ll never have a baby, and she just doesn’t understand why.

Liar

Her smiled over at her and smiled. “Our love is so amazing. It’ll last forever.”

But he was a bad liar. When he lied he had a habit of looking away, not looking in her eyes. Like he did just then when he uttered the honey-sweet words. She grinned wildly and nodded, thinking to herself about how someday, someday he may actually mean it.

Then she remembers that he never will.

Goodbye

“I don’t love you anymore. I’m sorry.” said her boyfriend of two years. The boyfriend she thought was going to propose. “We can still be friends, right?”

She looked at him in disbelief, anchored to her spot with shock, and the tears just randomly flowed fourth from her shimmering eyes. She shook her head. That was it. It was over. She grabbed her purse and walked out the front door. “Goodbye.”

Empty

It was a funeral, so shouldn’t she be crying? Everyone else was.

People lined around the casket but she just couldn’t being herself to shed a tear. She wasn’t even sad, and that’s what made her feel so terrible.

Dead

“What happened?” she asks herself. Blood dripped from her face, but it wasn’t hers. It was her sister’s. And on her lap was the blood of her mother, and on her torso was her father’s.

The man was gone, but the destruction, the despondency remained. Just like the blood-soaked knife that lay between all three bodies. That man ruined everything.

Worthless

People’s parents always have days when their kid just annoys the hell out of them. A day when they’re just not in the mood and they let something negative slip, but they don’t mean it. And their kids can always tell when they don’t mean it.

They can also tell when they do mean it.

She stands in the hallway, just around the corner from her father in the next room, where he sits in the quiet and sips on a Jim Beam. It hurts so bad that there aren’t even any tears. It hurts worse than the punches to the stomach she takes. “You’re not even worth the effort I put into my fists.” he’d said.

Worthless. So maybe she’d be better off dead.