Thursday, November 7, 2013

Gone Too Soon

The bedsheet. The sofa. The tray. The television. The trees. The walls.
Everything seemed so dull at that moment. It was as if colour ceased existing altogether.
I rested my hands on my stomach. Felt the flatness of it under my palms. As if it had always stayed that way.
As if it hadn’t once ballooned into a humongous thing, protruding out of my body, an obstacle which latched itself to me everywhere I went.
As if there had never been life in it before. A tiny human being kicking and squirming when I least expected it.
And now.
What’s left of it is a layer of over-stretched skin and…
Wrenched away from me faster than I could blink. Leaving me dumbstruck, lost, speechless. Empty.
A careless trip on the stairs. That was all that I could remember. The rest was a blur.
I stared blankly into the distance. Thinking that nothing could compare to the guilt I was feeling.
For being so careless. For losing him.
I might as well have murdered him with my very own hands.
I glanced forlornly towards my stomach, where he should have been kicking, squirming, doing anything to show that he’s alive.
Slowly, tears trickled down my face. I made no move to wipe them away, allowing them to flow towards my mouth until I could taste the saltiness on my tongue.
“Sorry,” I whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
And broke down sobbing.

Samantha Sim