Rosie's Thorns 🥀|18+|🥀

50 | Struggle

⚠️ Mention of SA and miscarriage.⚠️

Pray ~ Jessie Murph

《¤Rosie¤》

As bystanders, we always say "I would've" or "I wouldn't have". I was one of those people. When I'd watch true crime shows or read thriller stories, I'd scream at them to think logically. I'd sit there and talk with Destiny for hours about what I would have done if I was in their shoes.

But until we've walked in their shoes, we can't judge. Could I have done things differently? Could I have fought harder? Could I have escaped sooner? Or should I go back to the day it all started?

When Luca walked into the room, my father accompanying him, I should have turned and walked away. But I was young and very much still the people pleaser. I had just been traumatized and I was seeking reassurance and affection from anyone that would give it.

Luca was that person for awhile.

If I knew then what I know now, I would have ran. I would have killed him sooner. I would have...

You see? I would have. I can scream "I would have" until my face turns blue, but it doesn't change the past or present. It doesn't erase the trauma. It doesn't change or fix it.

Nothing could fix this.

You don't know how low you've fallen until you wake up and feel broken wishing you hadn't. I didn't know where we went after we died, but it had to be better than here. Every day I woke up in that bed shattered me over and over. I hoped I'd die un my sleep. I hoped somehow Luca had taken it too far and killed me.

Yet every dawn Joyce had walked in with a tray of food and I couldn't stop the disappointment from smothering me.

When I woke up to a subtle beeping sound and the hiss or air, my stomach sank for a moment. I was back. I was still in that bed. I let out a tired whimper as my lower lip began to wobble.

I'm just so tired.

"Ma'am? Are you awake?" A voice gently tugged me from my self destruction.

My opened slowly, peeking through my lashes first to observe my surroundings. White walls, white blanket, tubing, and then finally bright pink pants with tiny kittens all over them. My eyes flashed open as I stared at these pants in confusion and then up to the matching scrub shirt, until my eyes finally met deep warm brown eyes.

A woman, maybe in her mid-thirties, stared down at me with a soft sympathetic smile. I studied the nurse in silence. She had rich dark chocolate skin, deep brown eyes, black hair curly and thick pulled back into a low ponytail, and a round baby face. She was shorter, a little chubby, but curvy.

She was beautiful.

I stared at her as she glanced at the machine beeping beside me. With a quick glance, I realized it was a heart monitor. It was then I felt the small clip on my finger, the sharp pinch of a needle in the crease of my elbow for the saline drip, and then the canula tubing that rested beneath my nose and wrapped around my ears.

I'm in a hospital.

I blinked slowly, digesting this information. As I picked at my memories, slowly it all began to come back. The game. The chace. The creek. Luca finding me. The walk yo the highway. The blood.

My eyes snapped to my legs that were now covered by a thin scratchy white sheet. My hands, trembling whether out of fear or fatigue, moved to my stomach as it slowly began to sink in.