‘Push! Don’t push. Pant!’ Her head was spinning and the room was swirling. The floor stared down

She then cringed as she conjured up the image of Samuel and the expression on his face when she had told him she was marrying someone else. The hurt in his eyes had burned a hole in her heart that remained to this day. She quivered all over, not from the nasty cold, but as a reaction to her thoughts as they drifted back to that ghastly day and to the moment she realized she was pregnant with Owen’s baby: the day her life ceased to exist as she had known it.

Looking down, Ash placed his head into his hands, digging his palms into his eyes, and began to weep. The cries built up gradually, hitting their crescendo with him sobbing, “I’m so scared,” over and over and over again. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to comfort him or hold him, so he sat across from him and watched.

his hand to beg but after several times he stopped he placed his hand on the baby face reassuring himself that it was still alive it has been hours since the baby cried when he got to a stream he made his hands in form of a cup to get the baby drink he only makes it cough, it was impossible that a baby should die in their fathers arm, he waved his hand across the baby’s face keeping the mosquitoes away while at the same time crying and trying to waft a little air into the baby’s tortured

I stood still screaming, panicking in the dimly lit room while the baby of whom I was unconditionally devoted to vibrated unsteadily. Then a light hand gently squeezed the top of my shoulder hand did not have a voice, however it explained my pain would soon be relieved. Her shaking had ceased and the once distressed infant looked peaceful as her clear inexperienced blue eyes shut tightly. Hearing sharp murmurs from behind, I swiveled 180 degrees and murmurs slowly disintegrated into the frothy air, resulting in a women with mousey brown hair and a warm maternal face to start moving towards me as if she had precisely planned each step. The freckles on her flushed face mingled with one another while she spoke, asking if I’d remember to take my

The babies grew fussy, and Fleur told Percival and Rion she needed to nurse. The midwife swept in as if called, asking the men to leave the room for a little while.

I watch Celianna stroke her baby’s cheek softly. The look in her eyes crushed me inside knowing that she would have to sacrifice her dead child to create more space on the boat. The bond between a mother and child is so strong. Celianne’s baby have not cried ever since she popped out of her, that was when i knew something wasn’t right. There’s no words that could describe how Celianna must be feeling right now in this situation. The sun was starting to go down, meaning the day was almost coming to an end. The sun laid gently on the ocean as it made the sky turn a pinkish

"Desiree's Baby" is not a mere tragic short story by which a reader may be entertained by its ironic and catastrophic ending. It is a story of a crime and brutality against women of all generations to come, depicting vividly how a woman may suffer and conceal her anguish for the sake of others. It is a story of innocence slain mercilessly by the unscrupulous power of harshness that directly governs human societies.

I can’t be this person anymore. I can’t lead this life. It hurts too much. I’m tired of loving, I hate you and I’m tired of hating I love you.” She whispered softly with a calming voice, though filled with sadness. The melody seemed to just flow out of her like a mountain stream tumbling up and down over weather-worn rocks just the sound of her voice made the room feel colder. Gritting my teeth and forcing myself to stand it was my turn to look away and study the white walls. I shook my head bewildered. The devil wasn’t finished yet with wrecking my life. I opened my mouth to respond, hoping to repair the damage, but nothing came out. It felt like my vocal cords were paralyzed. Ingrid sat there thinking, the renewed silence between us surpassed the previous one in its length and weight. Then some force greater than the craving for a drink hit me. I could feel it pressing on me like the compounded gravity inside some inescapable black hole. I willed a breath into my lungs hoping that fresh air might relieve my sense of suffocation from trying to absorb everything Ingrid had just told me, struggling to put it into some sort of order and context. It seemed forever before I managed to exhale. Ingrid finally stood up; upset she stared at me with a blank, uncomprehending

The sound of her pulse interrupted him. She had no choice now, as the heavy beating would only increase in speed and soon enough her breathing would shorten. The physical symptoms were always the hardest to explain, and she especially didn’t want to have to do it in front of those she barely knew. She stood quickly and stumbled past a group, barely getting out an “Excuse me,” as she passed.

She stared in awe as her father gurgled and choked, his eyes bulging and staring right at her. His hands clasped across his throat, desperately trying to stop the blood from spilling out of his body.

“And I also found some things like you like.” I, had a feeling that something is wrong. I could feel a sensation vibrating around my body. “I am feeling a weird sensation around my body, I think it’s the noise of the feed”, I said. I instantly knew that something odd is happening to his loved ones. I instantly got the feeling that Violet is in trouble. I immediately ran home and straight to my bedroom and checked the feed function for Violet. ‘This is crazy, this isn’t happening, Violet is going to die any second now”, I said. Violet is lying in her bed, struggling to stay alive.

Wait-“ She cried out as she watched in horror and he brought his hand up and around her slender throat. Her breath hitched and her fingers scrambled up to break his hold. It grew tighter, cutting off all but the wisp of air, It wasn’t enough to breath and her chest inhaled hard before expanding quickly, casting her chest forward.

The blanket fell away from her bare hips, and she silently moved away from the twisted bed. He slept soundly on. She imagined him missing her when he woke. But she turned then, and the mirror over his dresser reminded her why her poisoned love was so flawed. He slept in a pool of golden ichor, and none would be surprised if she were to slice his veins to find a seraphic gore. She stood beside him and her skin was ice and her eyes, a copy if her mother's, were open. He was so much more beautiful than she could ever hope or imagine to be, no matter how dark the night she hid in. That would always be painfully clear.

Cassia sat beside her mother, praying for a miracle. She knew that her mother getting well again was against all odds, but she couldn’t lose her mother. Not like this.

She awoke to the sounds of confused and pain-stricken sobs. Cold beads of sweat ran across her forehead and she began to consider what had actually happened. She had been on her way home from work, but that was all she recalled. With great effort she managed to sit up, but soon wished she had not. She could feel blood pulsing loudly in her head and ears and immediately felt the need to close her eyes and sleep.