Take This to Your Grave

The doctor there had told me that it was inevitable that I would miscarry. Pete had informed him that I had taken prescription medication without seeing a physician; he told them what he had given me for the past two months and that's when the doctor said that it would've happened anyway. That didn't make me feel any better.

They had given me an ultrasound to check my uterus and then they sent me home. I felt like complete and utter shit; my entire body hurt and I had started to cry not long after. Pete took me to his apartment; the doctor had told me that I would have to stay put for some time and make sure not to do anything strenuous for a few weeks.

I was really upset by the whole thing; if my dad and Amy had known, I would've gone home, but I only had Pete. I was mad at him, and I was mad at myself; I was mad at the fact that I had taken pills from Pete and I had kept my mouth shut to keep from snapping at him.

At his apartment, I took my clothes off and went to shower. Pete wasn't far away; he had taken my clothes and put them in the washer and then sat at the sink when he returned. I had sunk beneath the water and let the scolding hot water wash over me until all the blood had faded away down the drain. I turned the water off and Pete was there to wrap me up in a towel like I was a baby. It took a lot for me not to shove him away; he had given me some of his briefs, gym shorts and an old fundraising t-shirt that had his name across the back.

He had laid me in his bed and rubbed my back; "Do you need anything?"

I had shaken my head, "No."

Pete's hand rubbed my back warmly, "You're mad at me, aren't you?"

I wasn't going to lie and say I wasn't. I nodded, "I didn't think I'd want the baby as much as I do now."

He sighed, "I didn't know--I don't know shit about babies."

"Stop talking." I ordered shortly as I curled up on my side.

Pete's hand paused and then fell from my back. "I'm sorry."

"Stop saying sorry."

Pete scooted closer to lay beside me. His arm swooped around my middle; "Naomi, I'm sorry."

I gritted my teeth, "Shut up."

He kissed the side of my neck, "It's not the end of the world."

"Do you not know what shut up means? It means stop talking, don't utter a sound. Shut the fuck up, Pete." I pushed his arm off of me and got up.

"Naomi, what the--"

I flipped him off and grabbed my shoes, "Fuck off."

I quickly hurried out the room and then out the door. I was practically running by the time I was outside; I was running away from Pete, going home. The air around him constricted me, I could not be around him any longer.

But, I wasn't as fast as I thought I was, because not a moment later, I felt his arms around me. My shoes dropped and I had started to scream; his palm cupped my mouth; "Naomi, calm down!"

I licked his palm, but he kept it there against my mouth. I started to sob and struggle against him; Pete turned me around and wrapped his arms tight around me; "Stop, just stop."

I shook my head, crying, "This is all your fault! This is your fault!"

"I know, Naomi, I know." He held me tight, "I didn't know that--"

"Get off! Get off of me!" I beat my fists against his chest, "Get off!"

Pete didn't listen, he managed to pick me up and carry me back to his apartment. He slipped in and shut the door behind him; "Naomi, you need to lie down."

"Fuck off!" I cried, "Get away from me! You did this to me! This your fault!"

Pete sighed and let me go, "I'm trying to help because I know it's my fault!" He screamed at me. "Let me fuckin' help you!"

My lip quivered so bad, I tried to stop it. I turned away from him and sat on the bed; "Don't talk to me."

"Fine." He threw his hands up. "Take care of your fuckin' self then."

Pete left the room, and to be completely honest, I didn't care. I was glad he was gone, I was just so angry at him, at myself and at everyone. If I could go home, I would.

I sat on the bed for a few minutes before I heard a knock on the door. My eyes went over and then I heard a voice, "Miss, are you decent?"

I looked at the door with a cocked brow, "Yes...?"

The door opened and there was a police officer. I jolted a bit, and scooted back on the bed; the officer smiled at me, "Are you alright, miss? We were called because neighbors heard you and your boyfriend fighting."

I nodded, "We're fine. I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" He asked with a look.

He reminded me of my dad.

"I'm positive."

"Do you mind telling me what the trouble was?"

I shrugged, "We just got into a fight. I'm okay now."

The officer looked at me and then nodded, "Alright, miss. We're going to head out now, but if you need help, don't hesitate to call the police."

I nodded right back, "Yeah. Thanks."

The officer waved and then left, leaving the door open. I heard Pete say something, the police respond and then the door open and close. Pete came into the room and shut the door behind him; "Do you want me to take you home?"

I felt bad now.

"No."

He sat down next to me, "Are you still pissed?"

"No." I shook my head, "I'm just tired and I'm hurt."

Pete put his arm around my shoulders, "I am, too. I'm sorry that this happened."

"It wasn't your fault, Pete, I was just mad when I said all that."

Pete scooted closer, his arm slipped down to my waist and rubbed my hips. They weren't sore anymore, the meds they had given me had made my body numb. I wish my head and heart were numb.

"Why were you in the crowd?" He asked curiously. "The last time I saw you was on the side."

"Eric was trying to talk to me about me getting Kate to talk to him and he got mad and pushed me into the mosh of it all." I answered.

Pete pulled back, "Who the hell is Eric?"

"Kate's son's dad."

"Why did he do all that?"

"Because he's an asshole."

Pete pulled me closer to him again, "I'm gonna kill him."

I smirked, "You're gonna kill a lot of people."

His arm squeezed around me, "I'm serious, Navy."

"It wasn't anyone's fault...this would've happened eventually, you heard the doctor. Eric's little stunt just sped up the process."

Pete kissed my forehead, "I don't care, you don't deserve this."

"No one does."

We were quiet for a few seconds before he began, "I was serious about you moving in with me."

"What for? We aren't going to have a baby."

"I want you to be here all the time, that's what for. We can still do all the shit we had planned, only without a baby. We can get married and shit like that."

I shrugged, "Maybe."

"This is all made me realize how much I miss you when you aren't around." He kissed me again, "Can't we just do this?"

I nodded, "Yeah, okay. Screw it."

He sighed contently; I nuzzled up close to him; "Pete?"

"Yeah?"

"What do you think it was? A boy or girl?"

He sighed, this time sadly, "I don't know...I was hoping it was a girl. What do you think it was?"

"I was thinking it was a boy. I wanted a boy."

"We have a lifetime, Naomi." He added softly.

"Still, our lifetime was so close and now it's gone."

Pete kissed me again, "It's not gone, just postponed."


I tried to get over the miscarriage with no avail. My heart was broken and I was thinking about it all day. My mom had been right, so I thought about my could've been baby and life. I had felt depressed and I hated everything and everyone. I kept this all to myself, but I told Pete how I felt, and he was more than comforting.

I had recovered well, except for the constant thinking. With my dad and Amy's wedding approaching, I tried to push it all out of my head and think about them and how happy their day is suppose to be. I tried not to be too much for them, so I was spending all of my time with Pete.

It was weird how he was; he was a lot quieter and when we weren't together he was with Patrick and Joe, and some of their friends, working on the new band. Even then, Joe told me that Pete was less of himself, which bothered me because I didn't know what it meant.

Pete didn't talk to me about anything much; he was just let me vent and wouldn't say much. He always let me cry on his shoulder, but never cried on mine like he used to. I would ask him, but he would just smile and say he was alright. I decided to stop being such a bitch and keep my anger inside. Pete deserved to have a clear head and not deal with my issues.

When the wedding approached, I was pretty much still beating myself up and keeping it all in. I was able to hide it and go out with Amy and her bridesmaids the night before the wedding. It was a pretty good night, all we did was have dinner and go shopping for a bit; but as night fell, I got a call from Kate.

Amy's friends were driving us home, and I had been slightly distracted as Kate began to talk fast and tell me what was going on.

It was like: "Petedidsomethingstupidyouhavetogethere!"

"What?" I asked in a confused tone.

"Pete did something stupid, Naomi." Kate said this slower.

"What did he do?" I felt eyes on me.

"He beat up Eric and then Mike jumped in and--it's a fucking mess. He told me to call you."

I groaned to myself, "Where is he?"

"He's here--we're at my brother's. His face is...ugh."

I shook my head, "I'll be home soon and then I'll be over."

"I'm sorry, but you've got to hurry."

"I will." I hung up with Kate and coursed my hair back.

"What's going on?" Amy asked.

"Pete got into a fight."

"Boys." Her friend Diana scoffed.

"Yeah, I know."

"We'll be home soon." She assured.

"It's okay, he needs to think about what he did with a headache."

I knew that Pete had to get his shit together. Fighting wasn't going to solve everything.