Baby

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  House: Booksie Classic

A mother is protective of her new born child. Is everything as it seems?

Baby

Theresa sat in the nursery, cradling her baby in her arms and lulling her into a blissful sleep. The nursery was stunning. Pink drapes guarded the crib, with a mesmerising mobile hovering over. It could make anyone fall asleep. In big, pink letters the child's name was emblazoned on the wall. 'Dolly'. Dolly' scrub was kept so neat and tidy it was as though it had never been slept in. Theresa was euphoric. She had been waiting for this moment all her life and it had finally arrived. She was finally a mother. The couple had been told to expect the worst, but luckily Dolly defied all the odds and was a beautiful, healthy little girl. Theresa didn't know what she would do if she lost another child before it had even had the chance to be born.

She spent every spare moment she had in the nursery with Dolly. Like a warm blanket of protection Theresa was always wrapped around her daughter, not daring to let go of her for longer than necessary. The child was so peaceful, never crying or kicking up a fuss. "You're a good girl for mummy, aren't you?" She stared at the baby's closed eyes. She placed her puckered lips against the child's forehead. After the first couple of times, everybody told Theresa and her husband Peter to give up, spare themselves the heartache. "Some people just aren't destined to have children," they would say. But Theresa knew that they were wrong. This time felt different for her.

She was so proud of her baby. Dolly was the most beautiful child she had ever lay eyes on. When they were out and bout Theresa would often catch people staring into the pram out of the corner of their eye. Sometimes there would be some strange looks but Theresa never understood why.

Footsteps bounding up the stairs disrupted her daydream. They reached the landing and drew nearer and nearer. The door opened and Peter stood in the frame. His grey, tired face fell when he saw Theresa sat in the armchair, cradling the still baby. "I knew you'd be in here again." He spoke with a raised voice, teetering on a shout. "Quiet, you'll wake her up." Theresa placed the baby in the crib and turned to face her agitated husband. "What have I told you, Theresa? This needs to stop. It's not normal." He ran a hand through his greying hair. Stress had gotten the better of him the passing months. "I don't have a clue what you're on about." It was then that Peter realised that she wasn't lying, she genuinely did not understand. "I can't stand you being in here constantly, knowing it's not ours. If you carry on taking it out people are going back to start noticing. You'll be ridiculed!" Theresa grimaced at her husband's words. It was as though he had just delivered a fatal blow to her gut. She was visibly taken aback.

"Do not refer to our daughter as an 'it'." She spat the words at her deranged husband with utter disgust, as if they had left a bitter taste in her mouth. "It's not our daughter!" He yelled. His face was crimson. Whatever little patience he had had with his wife was long gone. Peter had reached his boiling point. He grabbed his wife by the back of the head and forced her face deep into the peaceful child's crib, forcing her to look at what lay inside. She screamed as he did so, clawing at his hands with her nails. "Get off me Peter! You're hurting!" She screeched. Yet still he kept his grip tight on her head. "Not until you see sense!" The anger was charging out of him like a bull. Theresa drew a sharp elbow into her husband's gut so that he let go. "She is our baby and nothing will change that!" Theresa rubbed the back of her head, evidently shaken by her husband's shocking outburst. "Theresa," he sighed. He sat down on the chair and held his head in his hands. "I can understand that you want to block out the past few months, I really wish we could. It was painful for you and me both. But this is extreme. It's too much."

Theresa's eyes glistened. "Block what out?" She swallowed the lump in her throat that was so desperate to escape. She began to think back. The turbulent pregnancy, all the stress of what may happen, the birth... The silence. The silence in that delivery room all those months ago. The silence that may well be the loudest, clearest sound Theresa would ever hear. Her eyes lost their glisten. Instead they were cold, almost grey. Tired. She stared right through her husband. There were no more tears left to cry. No more energy. Just a hollow, grieving woman. Trying her very best to get through each coming day as best as she could.

Dolly lay still in the crib, wrapped in her nicest winter outfit. Just above the collar the baby's birthmark was visible. 'Made in China'. 


Submitted: October 24, 2015

© Copyright 2021 Aidyc123. All rights reserved.

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Islebabe

I liked your story. I was really surprised by the ending. Great job.

Sun, October 25th, 2015 2:03am

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