Page 82 of Then She Vanished

FIFTY-TWO

GIRL

I didn’t think this would ever happen, but Albie saved me from the horrible man that day and for that I owe him my life. I haven’t seen the horrible man since, and I wonder if Albie did something to him. I hope he did because I never want to see him again. If it wasn’t for Albie, my baby and I would be dead. Albie has changed. He worships me and always says how much he loves me. I’m his queen, so he keeps saying, but as his queen I really would like a castle, or just daylight would be nice.

Another contraction rips through me as my abdomen tightens. ‘Albie,’ I call, but he isn’t coming. I clench my teeth until the wave passes. This has been happening all day and I feel something is wrong. I’m scared.

Sweat soaks through my hair and pools around my neck as I lie on my bed. My bed is soaked where my water’s broke ages ago, and the vent isn’t working. As I try to inhale, it’s as if I don’t get a full lungful. I’m greedy for air I can’t get, and all I can imagine is my baby being starved of oxygen. ‘Albie.’ I grab the oxygen tank and place the mask over my mouth. As soon as I turn it on, I can tell it’s empty.

The pain is like nothing I’ve ever experienced. I just want it to be over. Everything looks like it’s swaying, but it’s me,not the room. If someone told me I was on a ship sailing over choppy waters, I’d believe them. I’m weak. I haven’t had any water for ages and it’s so hot in here, or maybe it’s me. Another contraction. I climb down onto the floor on all fours and try to push, but nothing is happening.

Butterflies, cupcakes, kittens and puppies, my drawings. Mum and me baking. I try to fill my head with lovely things as a distraction, but the next wave of pain tells me that the power of positive thought isn’t going to help at all.

‘I need a hospital,’ I shout, but no one responds. Tears fill my eyes and all I can do is cry, knowing that my best might not be enough. The more I panic and scream, the thinner the air seems to get and the dizzier I become.

I glance over my shoulder and I see the shadow of a figure walking towards me. Scrunching my eyes to try to push out the tears, I look again. ‘Mum.’

She crouches down next to me, her hand on my back. ‘You have to push, baby girl, or you and the baby will die.’

‘I can’t.’ The tears won’t stop coming. I know I have to get my baby out of me, but I just can’t do it and it will be my fault again that our baby died. Or will I be dead, too. Will anyone care that I’m gone? Will Albie miss me? ‘Mum, I can’t do it.’

‘You have to. I love you and I can’t lose you. Push, you can do it.’

But I can’t. My baby isn’t coming. My little boy is stuck inside me and I can’t do anything about it. I don’t know if it’s a boy, but I feel it. Sometimes a mother knows.

My mum rubs my back, but I can’t breathe. That’s why I can’t push, I need air. The ventilation has been off for too long.

‘I see a head and your baby is beautiful. Come on, baby girl.’ She places her arm around me as I push again, but it’s not enough. My baby is stuck and I can’t do this anymore.

I see black speckles as my vision fades and my mum is gone. Was she ever there? I see my cat now as I gasp for air. ‘My baby,’ I manage to say as I fade to nothing.

A last tear escapes and that one is for my baby. Another little one I never got to hold, another baby who couldn’t quite make it. It’s fate. It was always going to happen. We can’t escape our destiny.

‘Until the next life, Albie,’ I murmur as my vision fades to black and I can barely catch a breath. I don’t hear a cry and I can’t even hear the beating of my heart now, and the blackness descends.

FIFTY-THREE

RUTH

Ruth hadn’t realised before that there was a gentle continuous hum in the room, but she did miss it as soon as it abruptly stopped. That was a short while ago now. She trembled. It was getting a little colder, too.

Don’t be scared, silly– those words rang through her head. Who were the children and where were they now? All she wanted was for them to come back and open the hatch. If it was just a game like they said, surely it would be over now.

It was a game to the children and that told her a lot. The children were desensitised to this whole situation and that sickened her. Those poor children. She pitied their father, the man who had brought her here, and she knew she was dealing with someone who only cared about himself. After all, he brought children into it.

At a guess, she thought the children sounded around four or five, maybe the one who spoke was a boy, but it was hard to tell when they were so young. A lump formed in her throat as she thought back to when Elissa was that age, and she longed to pick her up and hold her again.

The pitch-black room felt as though it was getting smaller and she was sure that if she could see, there would be curls of her white breath rising in the chilly air.

The farm where Gary works – their nephews and grandchild came over a lot. She went to see Gary there about a year ago and she asked the little boy about his toy dog and he said it was a deer and called her silly. In her mind, she saw Gary playing with the children and showing them the bunker.

Rubbing her sore leg, she dislodged the slight scab that had formed over the wound. It began to bleed again. Her head still banged away.

She tried to inhale, but she couldn’t breathe well at all. It was as if the air had got a little thinner. Maybe it was her heart or maybe it was because the ventilation was bad.

Hugging herself, she wondered if there was any heating at all in the room. She called out for the children again, but there was no answer.

Stumbling over to the metal door, she began to hammer on it. ‘Let me out.’

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