I Could Have Lied

Cocooned in her black duvet on her queen sized bed she rubbed her stomach. She was feeling far past ill. At the age of twenty-two she was used to taking care of herself regardless of how sick she was. Until she was five her parents were always home and a large part of her life. A stay-at-home mother and a father who worked from a home office, she had gotten so used to having her parents there, and then she had her fifth birthday and everything changed.

It seemed to her that the only time she ever did see those strangers were on Christmas, Easter and her birthday. Never since her fifth birthday had she seen her parents over her spring breaks or even New Years Eve. She felt that she didn't need them anyways, after years of physical neglect she could take care of herself.

A tear escaped from the corner of her eye and slid down to soak into her short brown hair. With the duvet pulled up to her chin she ignored the chill that the tear caused on her skin as it began to dry. She felt that at that precise moment that she would never leave the warmth and safety of her bed ever again. She never wanted to be out in the open, because people would know. Strangers in the street would be able to tell what she had done with a glimpse into her hazel, pain-filled eyes. She didn't want to be frowned upon by people who didn't know her.

She knew deep in her heart that eventually things would be easier to overcome, but that took time and she didn't have a lot of time to spare these days. She had a career that she couldn't abandon, her own house to maintain, friends to stay in touch with and an on/off/long-distance relationship to work through.

She heard soft purring and lifted her head slightly off her pillow and gazed to the foot of her bed. Her tomcat, Goliath sat perched on her duvet, staring back at her. "Come here Goliath," she whispered to her feline companion. Goliath let out a lazy yawn and paddled its way over her legs and up to where her ribcage was underneath her cocoon. He curled up into a grey ball and began purring loudly. Oddly enough it was comforting to her and made her smile at the familiarity. At least everything in her life hadn't done a 180 degree swap on her.

She let out a simple sigh. Her body still felt heavy and tense regardless of how many deep breaths and sighs she took. She turned her head to face the left side of her room and bit her lip. She had taken a shower earlier in the day when she had returned home from her appointment. A bath usually released all of the tension that seemed to build on her rather quickly these days and eased her muscles, but something in the pit of her stomach told her that this time it wouldn't work.

Another lone tear escaped the corner of her eye and slid down into her hair only to be soaked up once again. She let out a heavy sigh, trying to release the pain in her heart, but her chest only tightened more. She pulled her duvet up higher until it reached just under her nose. That was the last straw; she was never going to leave her bed ever again. She would lay there for the rest of eternity and become an immobile pile of flesh and bones, a waste of life. She had nothing left in her to make her want to continue on with living any longer.

In movies and fairytale stories there was always a knock on the front door during this part of the tragedy. A knight of some sort would be there to save her, coax her into moving on instead of giving up on all life's wonders and possibilities. But in real life knights were rare to find, and there was hardly ever a knock on the door, a ring of the telephone or an appearance of someone who could make a difference. She was alone. Even Goliath couldn't change her mind. There was enough food in his dish to last him a while. If he was smart he'd get out now while he still could.

She wiggled further down into her cocoon so no part of her body was visible anymore and turned on her side. She pulled her legs up and laid in a fetal position. She just wanted all of the pain and everything to go away. She wasn't as strong as she used to be. Everything lately was really beginning to stab through her barrier, her self-protecting shield.

She closed her eyes and fought away all of the thoughts and memories swarming around in her mind. She began to picture her life differently. She started off when she was little, her fifth birthday to be exact. Her parents, grandparents and five of her friends all sat around their oak dining room table, waiting patiently for her to make her wish and blow out her candles. She wished that her parents would always be there for her and that she wouldn't have to grow up alone, taking care of herself when they should've been.

In her thoughts, they did. Her parents no longer worked from home, but they were always there. In the mornings they would take her to school and then go to work. By the time she would get home in the afternoon her parents would be there shortly after. They were always there for her birthdays, holidays, spring breaks and even when all she wanted to do was watch a movie with them or go to the beach. They took family vacations and family portraits adorned their living room walls and end tables.

She was 18 when she graduated school and met the love of her life. Everything would be perfect between them. When he went on the road to tour around the world with his band she would go with him. She wouldn't have to live another day without him by her side. She wouldn't want him to give up his dream of making music, even in her own dreamland. But she knew she would give up everything for him.

She felt pressure around her change. When she opened up her eyes she was still under her duvet curled in the same position. She stuck her head out from beneath her cocoon and looked around her room. Everything still looked the same but Goliath was gone. She frowned and turned to look at the clock. The bright red block numbers signalled that it was 3:00 in the morning. She had slept for over ten hours.

She threw her legs over the side of the bed, suddenly feeling strange. In movies everything almost always happened around two or three in the morning, around what was referred to as 'dead-time'. She stood up and looked around her room for her feline friend but he was nowhere to be found. She frowned; in her dreams everything was different, so different she forgot to include Goliath in her plans. Had he disappeared?

She walked around her house looking for her cat and calling his name. She was about to walk to the living room when she heard a pronounced sound in the deadly quiet home. She walked towards the front of the house, following the sound. Goliath sat perched in front of his food dish on the kitchen floor eating a late night snack. When he heard her let out a light laugh he lifted his head and looked up her, letting out a meow before lowering his head to finish his snack.

She pulled open the fridge door and grabbed a bottle of water before turning on her heal and walking towards the television. "Ahh, oh God!" she hollered as a pain surged throughout her lower torso. She fell to her knees in front of the couch and clutched her stomach with her right hand while her left hand held her balance on the arm of the couch. When the pain began to very slowly dissipate she lowered herself onto the couch and pulled her knees up to lay in a fetal position again. She pulled her afghan off the back of the white couch and draped it over her body.

In front of her couch was a long black glass and wooden coffee table. She took the remote off the table and turned on the television that was positioned in the corner and turned it until she found a show that appealed to her. Slowly she could feel the pain slipping away but it was still there waiting to lash out and attack her at another unexpected moment. It was also like another way of telling her that things were still the same. She could dream all she wanted; her life wasn't going to improve.

The last time she saw the digital clock above her television was when it told her the time was 7:16am. She had drifted back into a deep, dreamless sleep. It was somehow comforting to her because she knew when she woke up her hopes wouldn't be broke about her dreams maybe becoming true.

The clock read 10:10am, but she felt like she had only been asleep for a few short minutes. She stretched out her legs and her arms before she flung the afghan off of her body and stood up. She made her way to the kitchen and filled Goliath's food dish. She grabbed a carrot muffin from the cupboard and slowly picked away at it. Her appetite was still next to non-existent. The thought of food made her almost sick to her stomach, but she knew she needed something in her system.

She walked to the bathroom and ran a hot bath. She left the container of bubble bath under her bathroom sink. When the tub was filled she closed the blinds, trying to create as much darkness in the room as possible before stripping out of her clothes and sinking into the water until her chin rested just above the liquid.

Another lone tear made its way down her cheek and fell into the water. She closed her eyes and sunk deep down into the water until her entire body was submerged. She held her breath for as long as her lungs would let her, and then refused to come back up. Her brain began to send panic signals to her entire body, but she tried her hardest to restrain herself for coming up for oxygen. She never wanted to breathe again.

When her head began to pound her eyes shot open. Her body began to flail around in the water and soon she was sitting up in the tub with her knees pulled to her chest and her chin resting on top of them. Sobs escaped her lips as her body shook; this was the worst a person could feel. She was at rock bottom, and she was positive that there was no way she would ever be the same, ever be happy or content with living again.

When her bathwater no longer held warmth or bubbles she stood up and stepped out onto her mauve bath rug and grabbed a large, thick, fluffy purple towel and wrapped it around her body. She pulled the plug from the tub to drain the water and her tears that had fallen into it. She ran a brush through her hair and then walked back to her bedroom and towards her dresser to grab under garments. She dropped her towel after she slipped them on and grabbed a pair of black flannel pyjamas pants and a baggy, black Incubus t-shirt and pulled both of them on from her dresser as well.

She walked back into the main part of her house and stood in the middle open space between her kitchen and living room. She bit her lip, while she stood there in thought. She brought her nails to her mouth and began to bite them, a nasty old habit she had given up years before, but suddenly felt so vulnerable that it came back to her.

She turned to walk towards her living room couch when a knock sounded at her front door. She froze in mid-step, turning her head to look towards the entrance area of her home before she turned and walked towards the sound as the person knocked again. She unlocked the dead-bolt and turned the knob in her right hand, pulling open the door.

She looked up from her bare feet and her eyes met someone she hadn't expected in the least. She tilted her head to the right and knitted her brows together, stunned and so very confused. “Anthony,” her voice was raspy for she hadn't used it recently and during that absent time she had broken down.

"Kayla," Anthony's own voice raspy, but for a complete different reason. He was a vocalist for a band who out-lasted the '90's trend and still continued to make records and tour the world, someone who always knew how to make her and thousands upon thousands of people feel better. Her boyfriend stood in front of her -her dream man- and she could do nothing but stare at him. It would've torn her apart, if she wasn't already in multiple pieces.

Anthony instantly could feel something wrong with the woman he loved, the woman who made him the happiest person in the world. He took a cautious step towards her and snuck his arms around her shoulders, pulling her frail looking body slowly and carefully towards his chest. He ran his right hand smoothly up and down her back and kissed her temple. He could feel her pulling him closer to her and the wetness of her tears leaking through his black t-shirt and dampening his chest.

He pulled them over and closed her front door. The neighbourhood didn't need to witness anything that went on between them. It was only their business. He ran his hand over her hair again and again as he hummed tenderly in her ear. He knew she would tell him how come she was crying when she was ready too; there was no need to pressure her or cut her tears short until she was good and ready to stop.

He walked them over to the couch with her tucked under his right arm. They sat in the middle, Kayla fitting perfectly under his arm, secured to his side. Her right arm was wrapped around his torso and her head lay on his right shoulder. Slowly he could feel her tears and sobs begin to fade and become further apart.

When the last sob escaped her pale pink lips she took a deep breath. Anthony reached up with his left hand and whipped away all the tears and then smiled down at her, meeting her eyes. He leaned forward and placed a delicate kiss on her forehead. She smiled, his moist, cool lips felt good on her warm and pounding head.

"This is not how I pictured it being like when you got home from tour," Kayla frowned, her eyes falling to her lap.

Anthony nodded his head. "It's not how I pictured it either, but I'm just happy to be home again." He paused long enough to set his thumb under her chin and lift her head up to meet her eyes with his own, "what's upsetting you?"

He saw the instant tears fill her eyes, and noticed her try her hardest to keep them from spilling and making their way down her flushed cheeks. She blinked them away and took a deep breath. "When you got home, I had something amazing to tell you, but something came shortly after that, and now all that's left..." she trailed off, as a new wave of tears sprung to her eyes and spilled over, showing no mercy.

"What's left?" he asked softly, whipping away tears with his thumb, and frowning when fresh ones appeared right after.

"Emptiness."

Anthony didn't say anything. Dozens of possibilities ran through his mind as he tried to sift through them and find the most logical, the most expected, but all he got were dead ends.

"What was the good news supposed to be, Kayla?"

"You were going to be a father," she whispered before a sob escaped her mouth, choking, suffocating her.

He froze, unsure if he heard his girlfriend of over five years correctly. "You were pregnant," he whispered, reflecting what he thought he heard.

She nodded her head. "I'm sorry," she managed to choke out. She was so scared that he would no longer love her anymore. She knew he was a better man than that, but the thought was still at the back of her mind, nagging at her, tearing her apart.

He shook his head, in disbelief. "What- what happened? Are you okay?" He stumbled over his own words; he had so many questions, so many thoughts, and so many concerns.

"I wasn't that far along into the pregnancy, they said only about two months..." she swirled her index finger along the pattern on the chest of his shirt. "The doctor's said that my body couldn't produce the correct nutrients for the baby, that my body was sick, and there was less than 20% chance the baby would survive after birth- if it even made it that long..." She whipped away a few stray tears, “they told me that because I've been sick for so long my body has been able to survive on its own and create antibodies for what was causing me to become sick, but producing a healthy child was impossible."

"I lost the baby Anthony, I'm such a horrible person," she shook her head. "I couldn't even take proper care of our child, and it wasn't even born yet!"

Anthony set his finger to her lips, "don't you dare talk like that, Kayla. It is not your fault that your body is sick. You didn't know- how could you? You've always seemed so healthy. Do not blame yourself for this, don't you dare..." tears made their way down his cheeks as he spoke, falling off his chin and soaking through his own shirt.

"Everything has caused symptoms to become more visible, and I can feel a sickness in my body attacking me now. The doctors yesterday took some tests, they said they're sure they can stop whatever it is from attacking me any longer, but I most likely still won't be able to bear a child."

He pulled her as close to him as he humanly could and whispered in her ear, "you'll get through this baby," he closed his eyes, blinking back his own tears. "I'll be with you every step of the way."

She nodded her head and tightened her embrace around him, holding onto him as if her life depended on it, as if she couldn't survive without him, and at that moment, she knew without Anthony, she couldn’t.