© 2002 by Sarah Ryniker JudgmentalMama@hotmail.com http://www.oocities.org/iamthealmightyrah/FF.html
STORY LAST UPDATED ON 17/08/2002
Rise from the Ashes Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Epilogue
CHAPTER SEVEN
The birth of Phoenix was a rough road. It began at five in the morning in October. I heard the screams and hollers for me and I rose, reluctantly, from my bed. I made my way down the hall to Rachael's bedroom, where I found her sitting up against her bed, her nightgown soaking; a pained look on her face.
She looked up at me with hopeful eyes, wanting so much for me to be kind and help her. Of course, I could only oblige. I kneeled down beside her and helped her back into bed.
"How long has this been going on?" I asked. Another contraction hit her just as I asked, and she grabbed hold of my hand, squeezing as hard as she could. It actually almost hurt.
When she calmed down and took deep breaths, she finally answered. "My water broke at about four and I was getting out of bed when it started to suddenly hurt." She looked up at me with tears in her eyes. "I couldn't move from that spot until you came in."
What a pathetic mess she was. And a weakling at that. I hadn't hardly let out a yowl the entire time I had birthed Mitch. It wasn't that difficult. Yet, here she was, actually crying!
I calmed her down some more, not voicing my thoughts. Then, I left her, after letting her cry and moan for an hour, in pain. I waited about fifteen minutes, allowing myself to make something to eat and finish it, before calling the midwife. The midwife took another half hour to get to the house, and by then the pain was definitely excruciating. It was written across her face.
The midwife looked over Rachael, her look held nothing for a while. Then she shook her head and ushered me into the hall.
"What is it?" I snapped. I was highly annoyed. Why couldn't she just help Rachael give birth to this kid and shut her yap? I wouldn't need her after tonight, anyway. What opinions could this woman hold that would be a convenience or importance to me?
"The child is breech and the mother is losing an extreme amount of blood." Her words chilled me. Then warmth ran through me quick. It was an exciting feel and I almost smiled. How convenient that the little bitch die having this kid. It would be too perfect.
I feigned worry. "What should we do? You have to help her!" I cried, grabbing the older woman by the hands.
"We should really get her to a hospital," she said, looking towards the bedroom door as a scream emanated from the room.
I shook my head. "No, I don't think so. I think you'll do fine," I said this in a panic, yet she saw something in my eyes.
"You'll pay for this." It was all she said before entering the room again.
The screams worked their way into the evening. Then, they suddenly quieted. Rachael had become too weak to even cry out in the agony she felt. Still, it was all in her eyes. She looked up at me helplessly, as if I were her very strength. Silly girl that she was, she didn't know that I was hoping that all strength completely left her and she would just give over to death. Hadn't she lost enough blood yet?
Sometime later, the midwife kicked me out of the room. Rachael, weak as she was, lifted up to protest, but the wise woman told her that it was better that I wasn't there. I glared at her and she simply glared back. She somehow knew what I was praying for, and evidently my being in the room was a bothersome thing. As if praying for her death would get me what I wanted, whether I was in the room or not.
Karen was always peeking her head in, wanting to know if everything was going all right. Yet, we had our own secret language. Each time, I would look at her and my eyes would tell her "no". And each time, she would leave the door, her eyes showing a stormy rage.
The midwife saw this exchange between us one time and that was when she had kicked me out. She knew something was up and it was angering her. She didn't realise that I didn't care if she stayed or not. But, evidently, it wasn't her intent to leave Rachael. She stood by her, helping her through this. Instead of leaving, she simply got rid of me. I was the one getting on her nerves. With me out of the way, she could concentrate more on helping the meek and helpless Rachael.
Karen came down the hall right after I had been thrown out. I was glaring at the door, wanting to throw that woman straight out the window. She came up beside me and touched my shoulder. "What's going on?" she asked.
"The midwife knows something is up between us and the baby being born," I announced. I didn't announce that she somehow knew my feelings about Rachael, in spite of my award-winning act.
Karen looked worried. She glanced at the door and back to me. When she looked back to me, her eyes were hard and confused. "You didn't tell her what was going to happen?"
"Of course not, Karen. She'll only put the baby in danger by being angry," I told her.
"Why couldn't you get somebody more trustworthy?" she hissed.
"I told you not to worry about anything, Karen. You'll get the damn baby. Now calm yourself," I snapped back.
My eyes held warning and she heeded it well. She shut her mouth and stepped back. She was about to say something, then simply shook her head and turned and left me there.
I sat there outside of the room, waiting impatiently to hear the cries of a baby. Yet, the hours went on endlessly. No baby cries, no midwife coming to tell me the baby had been born, or that Rachael had been lost along with the child. I hated waiting, not knowing what the hell was going on. It was entirely too quiet in there.
Gerald didn't bother to check on Rachael once. In fact, at around eleven he even came down the hall to tell me I should get to bed with him. I knew he only wanted sex, but I insisted that I must stay close to Rachael. After a slight argument, he left me there, complaining his way down the hall. Never did he bother to ask if everything was going all right or not.
Michael and Karen, however, did not go to bed. They packed their things, getting ready to intercept the baby and leave. I couldn't wait to get rid of them. I had already disposed of the Rachael that had once been. I knew that no woman could ever be the same after going through something like this, only to lose the child.
And, oh, how wonderful it was that it was so difficult for her. The baby was definitely cooperating with me. It was almost as if the child was somehow seeking revenge on its mother. Why, I didn't know. But it was beautiful, to me, all the same.
Finally, I decided to go into the room. The midwife was settling herself down at Rachael's feet. Rachael's legs were spread apart and she was forced to hold them, no matter how weak. She was now letting out cries of pain again.
When the midwife saw me, her eyes glared. Yet, when Rachael looked over with relief in her eyes, the woman just shook her head and didn't tell me to leave. I decided then, to get rid of her. Evidently, the baby had been pushed into the right position by the midwife and now was coming along perfectly. I made the midwife leave, then. I was fed up with her attitude and it gave me a reason to deliver the baby and leave with it quickly.
After I made the midwife leave, Rachael spoke. Her words came out raspy and she was in the middle of finishing a push, but she got them out all the same. "I'm glad you made her leave. I didn't like how mean she was to you."
I nodded. Not another word was said. I watched the baby's head slide down and out. It fell into my hands. I looked at the little girl in my hands. She didn't cry because she needed her lungs cleaned out. I looked up at Rachael, feigning worry. I left the room with the baby quickly.
When I got down the hall, I took out the syringe I had in my back pocket and began to clean her lungs out. When she began to wail and wiggle around, I held her tightly to me. I quickly entered the nearest bedroom, and into the bathroom where I cleaned her off. I took the pillowcase off the pillow lying on the bed. I wrapped her tightly in it. She still cried and wriggled around afterwards, but at least she was clean.
Then, I made my way down to Karen and Michael's bedroom. I opened the door, not bothering to knock. As soon as Karen saw it was I, she jumped up from where she had been sitting in the chair. She rushed over and looked down at the baby in my arms. She smiled brightly as she took the baby from me arms.
I watched awhile as she held the baby, who had stopped wailing, to her bosom. She kissed its little cheeks and rubbed her nose against the baby's. Then she looked up at me expectantly.
"It's a girl. I'm not sure how much she weighs. You may want to take her to the nearest hospital. Tell them you found her or something, I don't know. Just go. Get out of here."
Karen acted as if she didn't hear me. "I'm naming her Phoenix," she announced. I shook my head and left the room. I never did find out what they did, but it didn't really matter. The child and the parents were out of my face. That was what mattered.
I went back to Rachael and gave her the dreadful news. "I'm sorry, Rachael. I knew something was wrong when she came out, that was why I left so quickly. The poor thing just couldn't make it."
Her cries of agony were far worse than the cries she'd let out during the labour. A mother had lost her child this day. And though I held her to me to comfort her, I smiled. I had brought this about. And it made my life all that much more enjoyable to live.
Rise from the Ashes Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Epilogue