Apologies, Glances, and Messed up Chances

Thirty-Seven

[Leah]

I watched carefully after my sister as she stumbled to the bathroom. I knew something was wrong. I knew exactly what was wrong.

No. No, I’m wrong. I’ve got to be wrong.

I started after her slowly, my stomach churning. I had that feeling. It was more than a sisters intuition, it was the feeling when you know something’s wrong. That dizzy, overheated feeling that I hated so much was pouring horribly.

I knocked on the door and waited for her to answer.
She didn’t.

I knocked again, in a false hope that she was just upset. She still didn’t answer.
Panic mode fell over me in an instant. I swung the door open and looked around frantically.

“Shannon!” I shrieked, “Frank! Dave! Call the ambulance!”

I heard someone dialing the digits into the phone forcefully, along with another running to me and my sister, who was out cold on the floor.

“Frank, there’s blood,” I whispered, “The baby, Frank…

He began mumbling random things under his breath. He didn’t even bother to wipe the tears from his face.

I watched as a paramedic ran in and began getting my sister ready for the hospital. They kept giving me pathetic looks. I wanted to slap the shit out of them.

I wasn’t the one who needed attention, my sister and her baby did, “Yo, stop looking at me and start helping my sister!” I yelled, “She’s pregnant

I glanced over at Shannon, who was sobbing harshly. No…

The first paramedic looked at me and shook his head, “Honey, I’m so sorry,” He began, “But she was pregnant.”

I felt my heart sink. Was?

“I don’t understand…” I muttered. Frank looked at me and hugged me tightly.

He didn’t wanna say it, and he didn’t wanna hear it.

Dave came over and hugged me pathetically.

His hugs were shit. They’re nothing like Gerard’s hugs.

“I’m sorry.” Dave muttered. I simply sobbed into his shirt as I watched them haul Shannon into the ambulance.

I’m sorry too. I’m sorry I ever doubted Gerard.

The neighbors were passing me by, giving me sad looks.

I don’t need their sympathy. Their little glances towards me don’t mean shit. They’re not gonna fix everything I’ve messed up.

How long can I deal with these Apologies, Glances, and Messed Up Chances?

I don’t think I can…

But I’ll wait. Oh yeah, I’ll wait.