We're Coming Baby
We're Coming Baby
It wasn't supposed to end this way. I keep telling myself that everyday since the accident.
I watched as the ambulance drove off in a frenzy towards the hospital, I watched as the doctors came in and out of the operation room.
I stood frozen while the doctor gave us the news, "We're sorry" was all i heard.
I watched as the casket was lowered into the ground, the men filling the hole with dirt.
I stood by, doing nothing as my mother comforted our 2 children.
I lay in our bed, your scent still in the sheets and pillows.
I scream and cry as I destroy our room in anger and sadness, I miss you, I can't do it without you.
This wasn't supposed to happen, it should have been me in that car, not you.
If i wouldnt have asked you to pick up the damn pizza that I fucking ordered, you'd still be here, I still remember that day.
"Tre, baby, I'm tired, please just pick it up?" " Damn babe you're lucky you're adorable." You gave me a soft but passionate kiss before grabbing the keys and heading towards the pizza place
Something felt different I just didn't know what, but if I knew, I swear I would have gone, not you, not my baby.
Our children try to comfort me, our daughter asked where you went, I didn't answer.
I haven't spoken to anyone since. Mother thinks that I should move on, and take care of our kids.
I cant. So, as I stand here in front of our bedroom mirror, with the gun gently pressed against my temple, I laugh, yes laugh because I will be with you soon. Now don't worry. I left a note explaining why I'm doing this.
I glance at our family photo, I smile.
Mother won't be proud when she sees what I've done. I turned the gas on, so it would be the most painless death for our babies, they should be with you now, I'm coming.
A blast is echoed through the house as Bille pulls the trigger, landing backwards onto the wooden floor.
James' mother comes to make her daily visit only to find the house smelling strongly of gas, she runs to turn it off.
After, she runs upstairs calling out the children's names, she reaches the children's shared bedroom, she takes the sheets off of them, both pale and cold, no longer breathing, death in their features. She screams out in horror, and runs to call 911, but not before going to her sons bedroom. There he is, on the floor, eyes wide open, pool of blood surrounds his head.
She falls to her knees as she shakily pulls out her cell phone to call for help.
She watches as the children and her son are put into body bags, and carried into the ambulance.
After what seemed weeks, she visits the once laughter filled house, as she walkes into the bedroom of her late son she finds a folded paper on one of the drawers, she unfolds it and reads it silently, tears form in her eyes as she reads the letter left by her son.
She tucks the letter into her hand bag, and leaves promising herself never to come back.
The letter read:
"I cant do this alone. We're coming, Baby" - love, Billie
I watched as the ambulance drove off in a frenzy towards the hospital, I watched as the doctors came in and out of the operation room.
I stood frozen while the doctor gave us the news, "We're sorry" was all i heard.
I watched as the casket was lowered into the ground, the men filling the hole with dirt.
I stood by, doing nothing as my mother comforted our 2 children.
I lay in our bed, your scent still in the sheets and pillows.
I scream and cry as I destroy our room in anger and sadness, I miss you, I can't do it without you.
This wasn't supposed to happen, it should have been me in that car, not you.
If i wouldnt have asked you to pick up the damn pizza that I fucking ordered, you'd still be here, I still remember that day.
"Tre, baby, I'm tired, please just pick it up?" " Damn babe you're lucky you're adorable." You gave me a soft but passionate kiss before grabbing the keys and heading towards the pizza place
Something felt different I just didn't know what, but if I knew, I swear I would have gone, not you, not my baby.
Our children try to comfort me, our daughter asked where you went, I didn't answer.
I haven't spoken to anyone since. Mother thinks that I should move on, and take care of our kids.
I cant. So, as I stand here in front of our bedroom mirror, with the gun gently pressed against my temple, I laugh, yes laugh because I will be with you soon. Now don't worry. I left a note explaining why I'm doing this.
I glance at our family photo, I smile.
Mother won't be proud when she sees what I've done. I turned the gas on, so it would be the most painless death for our babies, they should be with you now, I'm coming.
A blast is echoed through the house as Bille pulls the trigger, landing backwards onto the wooden floor.
James' mother comes to make her daily visit only to find the house smelling strongly of gas, she runs to turn it off.
After, she runs upstairs calling out the children's names, she reaches the children's shared bedroom, she takes the sheets off of them, both pale and cold, no longer breathing, death in their features. She screams out in horror, and runs to call 911, but not before going to her sons bedroom. There he is, on the floor, eyes wide open, pool of blood surrounds his head.
She falls to her knees as she shakily pulls out her cell phone to call for help.
She watches as the children and her son are put into body bags, and carried into the ambulance.
After what seemed weeks, she visits the once laughter filled house, as she walkes into the bedroom of her late son she finds a folded paper on one of the drawers, she unfolds it and reads it silently, tears form in her eyes as she reads the letter left by her son.
She tucks the letter into her hand bag, and leaves promising herself never to come back.
The letter read:
"I cant do this alone. We're coming, Baby" - love, Billie