Read Maggie's Five ...the first in a LOVE story for Free Online

as
well.
    Luke shifts his
long legs so they are straddling me and wraps me deeper within his
frame, protecting me from the world outside my fragile bubble. A
hand squeezes my shoulder before the doctor stands and returns to
the other side of the room and draws the curtain around my baby’s
bed.
    I’m left staring
at pale blue drapery, shimmering under the artificial glow of the
harsh lighting. Hearing the murmuring of indecipherable
conversations that I know are about me coming from behind the
curtain. With a man I haven’t seen since childhood comforting me,
his forehead pressed gently to the side of my head, breathing deep
warm breaths across my cheek and down my neck; and masculine,
harrowing sobs coming from my brother-in-law.
    “ Um,
Mrs Cartwright, I need you come with me please. I can get you a
wheelchair if you need one. But we can’t stay here. I’m
sorry.”
    “ But
I need to see my baby-”
    “ Yes
I know, but in a few minutes okay? Let me take you somewhere more
comfortable. They’ll know where to find you when they’re
ready.”
    We’re taken into
a bland room with mint coloured walls, and windows that offer a
view of the neighbouring brick building. There is a tattered old
brown couch resting to one side and a row of stiff metal chairs
with the same cracked brown vinyl, facing the couch.
    Luke still has
me in a firm hold underneath one of his arms and Jon is gripping my
hand to his chest now that his sobbing has subsided. My fingers are
protesting under the pressure of his grip but I relish the fact
that I can still feel.
    “ Ah,
fuck man.” Luke pulls on the back of Jon’s neck and drags him into
a one armed embrace, not a bro hug, or a masculine hold and
release. A proper, rib crushing hug that pulls me closer into him.
He takes this as a sign of me wanting more from him, so he presses
me closer and kisses the top of my head. “I don’t know what to say.
‘Sorry’ kind of sucks arse right now.”
    His comment
takes me by surprise. I start chuckling. He’s right, sorry does
suck arse. My chuckles escalate into laughter, building in volume
and intensity. Both towering men pull away with crossed brows,
confusion written all over their faces.
    “ He’s
right, this sucks big time.” My laughing words are broken by sharp
breaths that catch in my lungs. I’m gulping down air that I’m
unable to release, the choking pressure building painfully as tears
begin to stream down my face and drip from my chin. The density in
my chest soon becomes so intense black spots fill my vision. I
press the heel of my palm over where my heart should be to try and
elevate the dizzying pain. From a distance I hear my name being
called but with all the blood pounding in my ears, I can’t be sure
who’s calling for me. I see the speckled grey vinyl come up to meet
my face and feel hands cradling my decent.
     
    I’M LYING
DOWN.
    I don’t remember
going to bed.
    My body feels so
heavy I’m surely leaving indentations in the mattress.
    People are
whispering nearby; hearing them is comforting because I don’t want
to be alone. My closed eyelids are a glaring red and my breathing
is even. I feel an odd sort of quietness flowing through me. Not
happiness, or contentment, just a bland calmness.
    The deep timbres
of voices are familiar and I start to catch snippets of their
conversation - ‘going to crush her’ and ‘don’t know how
she is going to get through’ … then worst of all: ‘can’t
believe the three of them are gone’ .
    I’m quickly
learning that sometimes it really is better to be left in the
dark.
    A door opens and
the scuffing of feet travel towards me. “Maggie not awake yet?” The
anguished voice is coming from my father.
    “ Not
yet.” I’m sure that’s Jon replying. He sounds exhausted.
    There is a heavy
sigh and the scraping of metal over lino. Someone sits by my side
and takes hold of my hand. The weight of their limbs on the thin
mattress causes my body to dip; warm coffee breath