The Iceberg Tipping
Nightmare.
Sleep was hard to find, memories constantly pouring into her dreams and turning them around on her into nightmares. She relived things she never even wanted to remember and she thought about things that she could never dare to let pass her lips. Waking up in cold sweats and falling asleep just for the cycle to circle on.
indent “Emma!” her mother screamed around midnight, making Emma shoot up out of her bed and run for her bedroom door. She ran all the way down the stairs to the living room where her mother was bent over with a puddle at her feet. Emma didn’t know much but she knew what that meant and it was not good.
indent Emma opened her mouth to speak for the first time in a long time. “Where’s dad?” she asked, eyes wide and darting around the room, looking for anything they’d need. Her mother shook her head, holding tightly onto Emma’s shoulder. “Oh, okay,” Emma whispered, panicked, before leading her mother to the car. “Do you ne-”
indent “Drive!” her mother commanded and Emma did as she was told, even making the tires squeal as she pulled out of the driveway and raced towards the hospital. Every now and then her mother would spit out directions on which way to go, Emma couldn’t remember ever driving under so much pressure.
indent They got to the hospital and a nurse came out and helped her mother into a wheelchair before murmuring instructions and pushing her mom off into an elevator. Emma waited at the front desk, trying to fill out paperwork she didn’t understand. Eventually she gave up, flopping backwards into a hard plastic chair, aged and yellow in color. She didn’t know how but, after an hour of waiting for either her father or someone else to tell her what was happening, Emma finally fell asleep in the uncomfortable chair.
indent She awoke to someone shaking her shoulders, a happy voice tugging at her ears. “It’s a little boy,” her father’s rough voice rang out happily. His dark hair and dark brown eyes were what met her own eyes as she opened them slowly. “A boy,” he said again, ecstatic in a way that made Emma’s stomach churn uneasily.
indent She smiled anyway, letting him drag her up into her mother’s hospital room. Emma wondered if her father had been this excited for her own birth, but she doubted it was possible. His eyes were glowing and his hand was clutched tightly around hers and he just seemed too happy. Emma could never cause that kind of happiness.
indent Meeting the child was an entirely different experience. Emma watched as it held fast to her mother’s chest, Emma’s own chest constricting with a sudden pressure. That could have been her, she could have had a small being clutching to her like that; needing her like that. A tear slid from her eye as she slid herself back into the corner of the room, arms wrapped as tightly around her shoulders as was possible. That could be her, she could have had the baby and the happiness and the love. “Jacob,” her mother murmured, fingering the baby’s nose before looking up at Emma. There was a large smile on her face, much to Emma’s distaste, but everything else about her mother radiated exhaustion. “Come hold, Jacob,” her mother said, repeating the name and having the sound roll off her tongue in a way that was overly natural. It wasn’t a demand but Emma jerked forward like it had been.
indent Emma stood awkwardly while her mom held out the baby. “Watch his neck,” her dad murmured, nearly cooing at his new son. Emma nodded, cradling the baby close to her body, his head in her elbow. Looking down at the monster, he didn’t look so... monstrous. Emma even smiled, her tears slowly exchanging themselves for small giggles at the bottom of her throat.
indent Could this be happiness?
indent “Emma!” her mother screamed around midnight, making Emma shoot up out of her bed and run for her bedroom door. She ran all the way down the stairs to the living room where her mother was bent over with a puddle at her feet. Emma didn’t know much but she knew what that meant and it was not good.
indent Emma opened her mouth to speak for the first time in a long time. “Where’s dad?” she asked, eyes wide and darting around the room, looking for anything they’d need. Her mother shook her head, holding tightly onto Emma’s shoulder. “Oh, okay,” Emma whispered, panicked, before leading her mother to the car. “Do you ne-”
indent “Drive!” her mother commanded and Emma did as she was told, even making the tires squeal as she pulled out of the driveway and raced towards the hospital. Every now and then her mother would spit out directions on which way to go, Emma couldn’t remember ever driving under so much pressure.
indent They got to the hospital and a nurse came out and helped her mother into a wheelchair before murmuring instructions and pushing her mom off into an elevator. Emma waited at the front desk, trying to fill out paperwork she didn’t understand. Eventually she gave up, flopping backwards into a hard plastic chair, aged and yellow in color. She didn’t know how but, after an hour of waiting for either her father or someone else to tell her what was happening, Emma finally fell asleep in the uncomfortable chair.
indent She awoke to someone shaking her shoulders, a happy voice tugging at her ears. “It’s a little boy,” her father’s rough voice rang out happily. His dark hair and dark brown eyes were what met her own eyes as she opened them slowly. “A boy,” he said again, ecstatic in a way that made Emma’s stomach churn uneasily.
indent She smiled anyway, letting him drag her up into her mother’s hospital room. Emma wondered if her father had been this excited for her own birth, but she doubted it was possible. His eyes were glowing and his hand was clutched tightly around hers and he just seemed too happy. Emma could never cause that kind of happiness.
indent Meeting the child was an entirely different experience. Emma watched as it held fast to her mother’s chest, Emma’s own chest constricting with a sudden pressure. That could have been her, she could have had a small being clutching to her like that; needing her like that. A tear slid from her eye as she slid herself back into the corner of the room, arms wrapped as tightly around her shoulders as was possible. That could be her, she could have had the baby and the happiness and the love. “Jacob,” her mother murmured, fingering the baby’s nose before looking up at Emma. There was a large smile on her face, much to Emma’s distaste, but everything else about her mother radiated exhaustion. “Come hold, Jacob,” her mother said, repeating the name and having the sound roll off her tongue in a way that was overly natural. It wasn’t a demand but Emma jerked forward like it had been.
indent Emma stood awkwardly while her mom held out the baby. “Watch his neck,” her dad murmured, nearly cooing at his new son. Emma nodded, cradling the baby close to her body, his head in her elbow. Looking down at the monster, he didn’t look so... monstrous. Emma even smiled, her tears slowly exchanging themselves for small giggles at the bottom of her throat.
indent Could this be happiness?
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So, what do you think? Brooke told me that the last few chapters were a little confusing. Message me if you thought so too or if you know of a way that I could patch it up.