Page 40 of Petals of Blue: Part Two
In the end, I fought to survive. But is it the end? How will I know?
As the world slips away from me and everything ceases to exist, my brain rapid fires in every awful direction it can muster up. I figured—always hoped—when I died, I'd see all the good memories.
I fear that's not true.
Time stretches and warps, elongating as what I'm sure are seconds turn into years as I see every single moment I'll miss. In some horrible twist of fate, images of Violet visiting my grave assault my mind.
"Hi, Mama..." Violet whispers. She's blurry as I watch from a bird's eye view as she settles on the grass. I would know my V even if her hair is cropped to her shoulders and wrinkles line her eyes. "I've brought someone for you to meet."
I feel like I don't really exist, as if I am literally watching from beyond the grave. Chills run through my form, but I half wonder if I always feel them.Am I cold?
Violet wiggles around, and my perception zooms in on the small bundle in her arms. "This is Serena...your granddaughter."
Those words, theyhurtme. I have no idea how I can feel so much visceral pain if I'm already dead, yet I do. She made me a grandma. Violet named her daughter after my mom.
"I miss you, Ma. I know, wherever you are, that you'll watch over Serena like you always did for me. Just..." She wipes a tear away with the baby's blanket. "Wish you were here."
My sweet girl.
"I'm sorry I haven't come to visit for a while." Violet sighs, sounding tired, making me wonder if she's all alone inthe world. But that couldn't be because I ensured my support system was hers too.
"Everyone told me how awful the baby blues are, but—ugh I can't stop crying. The guilt is real, and it's eating me alive."What I wouldn't give to hold her."Sometimes I wonder if you would have had kids. Then you could have actually prepared me. Bethany sugarcoated it..."
Beth has a kid? How much have I missed?!
"I know Declan and Roman still visit you weekly. Felix and Jared obviously come too, so I'm glad you haven't been lonely. Or are you? I hope you're okay...happy even."
How I wish I could tell her I'm happy, but I'm not. This isn't what I wanted. The sheer yearning I feel to make Violet some meals and clean her home is growing by the second. Why does my kid look so miserable? Where is Serena's father?
As I think her name, Violet's baby coos and begins to fuss. Breaking my heart once again, V tilts her head back and looks to the sky. Looks atme.I swear our eyes lock as my vision clears just enough to see her tears trailing down her cheeks.
My God. I'm in hell. There's no other explanation.
"I love you, Mom. Rest easy...One of us has to," she adds with a slight giggle that strikes me hard.
If that is what awaits me if I slip too far from life, then I don't fucking want it. Iwillbe there to clean Violet'shouse, make her food, and sleep over so she can sleep. No way in hell will I allow her to cry in front of my grave before she's seventy. Fingers crossed. I just have to wake up first.
Thirty
JARED
Cracking jokes at a time like this doesn't feel appropriate—I recognize that—but what else can I do? I'm uncomfortable and scared.
Roman knows how to tune me out, and Felix hasn't looked at me for twenty minutes. He's pacing the length of the waiting room and ripping more of his hair out with every passing second. Declan's lips curl up every now and then when I joke about his boyfriend going bald by morning, which only fuels my desire to be useful.
It was like as soon as we stepped foot in the sterile, white hall of the waiting room, I began to rely on what I do best: being lighthearted and fun.
Although nothing about this situation is fun or lighthearted. Making my best friend smile felt like something helpful, and that's exactly what I needed to be. At least I can create something positive in a situation where we all want to either throw up or throw fists.
I've seen the concerned looks the young nurse at thefront desk has been giving us. Felix is probably to blame for that. I'm just glad the young girl has other staff members around to make her feel better.
She could probably use a joke. I can't imagine working in a place like this. How do they cope? With humor like me?
But it's just a distraction. A way for me to avoid the harrowing feelings inside me. I try not to think about Blue, but with every tick of the clock, my anxiety grows.
My teasing remarks have slowed the longer we've been here. The pressing worry of what's happening to Blue is silencing me.
More happens in the silence than I'd like. Having space to process and twist myself into a ball of nerves isn't helpful to anyone. I've had enough silence, but it seems getting sucked back into it is inevitable in a dire situation such as ours.
