User:Lostblood22

I Can't Forgive Myself It was late, really late... about 2:30am in the morning. A man sat awake in his bed unmoved by the need of sleep. Panning over to his left; he saw his wife deep in slumber and unaware of his awaken form. Sighing deeply he decided to walk around.. there was no need being in bed if you couldn’t pass out anyways. Moving his legs over the edge of the bed, and just as his feet touched the wooden floor of his bedroom. An image of him in a hospital room, holding his wife's hand and sobbing, flashed in front of his eyes. He clenched his eyes shut and gripped the side of his head with his right hand. After a few seconds of washing the image out of his mind; he glanced over his shoulder back at his wife-still sleeping. She couldn’t have heard him. Standing up, he continued out the room and down the hall. Not even six feet down the hall, he stopped beside a door on the other side from where his room was. He turned his body to look at it. Again for the second time the image of him in the hospital appeared. This time he faced his wife as she sat in the hospital bed. Tears burning her cheeks as she clutched her stomach. He noticed the crimson red liquid seep through her fingers. The dream faded out once again, and he was panting in distress from the vivid memory. .                                                                       . Unsteadily he opened the door to meet what gruley reality will face him. It was a small room vacant of life, colors were faded to a grey. The walls were originally a light peach colour, but that didn’t matter, not anymore. There stood a large comfy looking arm chair in one corner and on the other side was a crib. It was rather small but still the most clearest object in the room. .                                                                   . Taking steady steps towards the crib, stopping to look in. Over the bars and down into the crib was nothing but a small baby rattle. *sniffle* the man begins to hold back the tears; but unable to keep them all inside as one by one they slid down his face... Keeping himself from wailing out, he covered his mouth. .

“Daddy”? a frail, small child's voice calls from behind him. His head shot up from the sudden sound. That voice, it had no gender to it, it was so human but so unreal. Something of a mix between both boy and girl. “Why are you crying, daddy?”.

“Don’t do this. I can’t deal with this ,not now.” He dropped his head back down. Refusing to turn around, he knew this wasn’t real it was in his head. “just go away!” he exclaimed.

The tiny sound of little foot prints came closer to him. “But why, don’t you wanna see me daddy?” that sounded like an insult more than a question. Nevertheless it was better off not to provoke the thoughts. He knew better, he has seen what has happened to other who do so. .

“No. of course I’d want to see you.” ‘Damn why did I say that?’ he cursed to himself. ”It’s just… you're not real.” He clenched his fist and bit his bottom lip. He knew that, deep down he knew that he’d never have a child, and that it was all his fault. If only he just held back, if he just did something different. But you can’t fix the past this is his life now, and he’ll have to live with it. The voice was almost right behind him now ”love you daddy.” In that moment, with those three words, he broke. His body lurched forward, grasping hold of the bar to the crib. He started crying not able to stop the flow of tears that burn their way down his face. One after the other they fell into the crib. “I’m sorry, don’t cry daddy,” That wasn’t going to do anything but make it worse, well it is his own subconscious. .                                                                      . His knees almost gave out underneath him. Why, why couldn’t he be a father to a child, one who loved him. Why couldn’t he be a good man, why did this life have to be ripped away from him. There were too many questions, all coming back to him in the hospital room. .

A new flashback of that day. “I'm sorry to tell you this…” a women in a labcoat says talking to both him and his wife, as he desperately grips her hand, his eyes widen in fear. ”your child didn’t make it, there was nothing I could have done to save her,” his breathing is now heavy as he gasp trying to steady his breath. It was going to be a girl. .

“It was a girl. She was going to be beautiful, my little girl.” He said softly as his hand falls into the crib and grabs the baby rattle.

“I know” the child's voice was replaced with a young adult female voice. Just like that slowly two arms wrapped around his waist, and a face began to bury itself into his back. “Please don’t beat yourself up over this, you were just trying to protect me, us.” The now muffled voice said into his back

The last flashback of that day. The man screams at the top of his lungs shooting at a man that stood only feet away from him. In a blind rage of what he and his wife witness that day he grabbed the nearest sharpested object. Unaware which way it was pointing. On his back swing he had cut something, only when the blade was in front of his eyes did he relies he’d made a horrible mistake.

“I can’t Forgive myself”