Battling the Loss You Live For.

Today I’m six months pregnant.
Today is the day of… her funeral.
She was going to get buried next to her brother, my supposed uncle up in Bradford, north England.
Ever since we found out, Frank had to make sure I was never alone. When he was at college, someone would always be here. He never left for Rutgers unless someone showed up. Today, it was Nyona, Matt and Mikey.
“How are you, Sazzy?” Matt asked, falling on the sofa next to me. I shrugged. He nodded, not saying anything. He and Nyona were acting all weird around each other, not really looking at each other in the eye, and barely talking. Something was obviously up, but I wasn’t going to stick my nose in their business.
“Uh… Sazzy, can I… uh…” Mikey mumbled, nervous.
“Fridge…” I replied, as he slouched off into the kitchen for something to eat.
“C’mon, Sazzy… you have to forget all about this. All this stress and emotion can’t be good for Marilyn and Dymian,” Nyona whispered, her hand brushing back my fringe out of my eyes. I was sat in between her and Matt.
“Nyona, leave her alone. She can have some emo time.”
“Shut up, Matt,” she bit back, and he narrowed his eyes at her, glaring.
“What the fuck is up with you two?!” I cried, fed up at everything. No one would stop talking about me and the death, everyone was treading on eggshells around me, and then these two were just pissing everyone off!
“It’s nothing…” Nyona mumbled, as Matt growled.
“Don’t you dare fucking be like that with her!” Nyona cried, so loudly that Mikey came running in.
“What’s going on?”
“Matt’s an arsehole, he’s fucking-”
“Nyona is fucking pissing me off, she’s-”
“Shut. The. Fuck. Up,” I said, bluntly. I was pissed.
“Matt,” Mikey said, gesturing towards the door. Fists clenched, Matt stood up, following Mikey out of the door.
“What the fuck is going on with you two?!” I asked, again, turning to face Nyona. She looked stern, angry.
“I…” she started, and then scowled, almost to herself.
“He’s just a wanker. He has no consideration for other people’s feelings, and just does as he fucking pleases.”
“Elaborate?”
“He… he just fucking…”
“Nyona,” I said, sighing almost.
“He almost killed a guy last night.”
“He did what?!” I cried, glancing at the door when I realised how loud I was.
“Yeah! He beat up this guy, and just left him bleeding out on the street! Who fucking does that?!” she whispered quietly, her eyes narrowed in a glower. I sighed, leaning back. My back was killing.
“That’s fucked up.”
“I know! And I phoned up the guy’s best mate after I found out, and he said that he was in the hospital,” she explained, rubbing her forehead.
“But why did he do it?” I asked; my eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“This is the fucked up part. Because he said I was good looking.”
“Are you taking the piss?”
“I swear.”
“Oh dear lord,” I mumbled, a hand pressed to my mouth.
“Yeah, it’s fucked. I can’t let him get away with stuff like this; he needs to get over all this bullshit. He’s punched people in the face before for saying that they ‘wouldn’t mind a bit of me’ and stuff, but… it’s just stupid. And he’s always drinking and stuff, I think he was drunk when he beat up that guy last night,” she said, shaking her head in dismay. I nodded.
“This is just totally fucked up. Too fucked up,” I mumbled, letting my eyes shut. I heard the door open, assuming it was Frank back from college.
“Hey, Sazzy, Nyon- whoa, who died?”
My eyes flew open, stinging as a lump caught itself in my throat, and Nyona groaned quietly.
“Ray, you arsehole!” she mumbled, and I stood up, rushing out of the room and into the bathroom. I was sick of crying.
“What happened?” I heard Mikey from the living room, his voice worried and strained.
“Ray came in and went ‘who died’,” Nyona explained, her voice becoming clearer and closer, until she rapped on the door.
“Sazzy, come out, please? He didn’t know… he’s really sorry… he- Ray, get over here!”
“What, I don’t know what’s going on… I-”
“Dude, she found out her Mom died yesterday,” Matt explained to him, and Ray groaned, loudly.
“I’m such a dick!”
“Yeah, you are! She was just about feeling alright, too… man, I got her mind off it and everything,” Nyona grumbled, as she lent on the door. I sniffed, wiping away my tears quietly.
“Sazzy, I’m really sorry, I mean it. I didn’t know… God, I’m so sorry,” Ray apologised, and I heard a slapping noise. No doubt he hit himself on the head.
“Come on out, Sazzy, please?” Mikey said, and I took a deep breath in, exhaling slowly to try and calm myself. I unlocked the door, pushing it open. Nyona wrapped me into a hug straight away, before she was shoved off me by Ray who hugged me instead.
“I’m so sorry, Sazzy. I had no idea,” he whispered to me, hugging me tighter. I sniffed my tears away, nodding into his chest.
“It’s not your fault. Sorry… I wouldn’t be so emo about it if it wasn’t her funeral today,” I said, sighing as he groaned, again.
“Oh, man! I feel like an even bigger dick,” he complained, grumbling.

“Sazzy!” I heard Frank call about an hour later, as he walked through the front door. I turned my head, waiting for him to walk through.
“Hey,” I said, smiling over at him as he came and sat on my other side, letting me lie on him a little. Ray, Mikey and Nyona were still here, Matt having to go somewhere half an hour ago.
“Okay?” he whispered into my ear, making sure no one else heard. I nodded slightly, nestling into his side. He stroked my hair, kissing my head.
“Get any phone calls yet?” he asked, still whispering, and I shook my head, looking over at the clock.
“It’s only three. It’s ten in the morning there,” I mumbled quietly to him, as the rest carried on watching the pirate copy of ‘Meet the Parents’.
“What time is the fu- the… When is it happening?” he asked, stumbling over his words.
“Uh… Noon, I think… so in two hours.”
He squeezed me to him for a few seconds, turning to the TV screen, watching the film flick across the screen.
It was then when it hit me that everything that I had put him through had aged him so much. Stress lines were creasing his forehead, his fingertips were yellowing because of all the cigarettes he was inclined to smoke, and his eyes had a hollow look about them. Even his skin was greying, and his posture was slouched, his clothes looking like they hung off him.
What have I done?