Paragomania

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"Push, Carrie! Push!" exclaimed a nurse as the sweat-drenched woman shrieked in pain. The woman gripped the sides of the hospital bed as if she was prepared to break the metal poles. From down the hallway, a man ran with a nurse at his side.

"Mr. Beckford, you can't just leave! You're not allowed in this part of the hospital! I-"

"My child is being born!" was his only joyous response as he struggled to untangle himself from his slightly undone hospital robes. "I must be there for my child! Please, I must see! I must-"

A syringe was stabbed into his side by one of the aides struggling to keep up with his pace, forcing him to fall to the ground in a helpless heap. Even then, the tired man attempted to worm his way down the hall with nothing more than his writhing broad shoulders and shapeless chin. No matter how hard he tried to deny the ever beckoning call of unconsciousness, his eyes fell closed.

When he opened his eyes, he was strapped to a hospital bed. He had been in this situation many times, but this was simply outrageous. He was no threat to his child or its mother. He attempted to wrestle free of the black straps, but only managed to jiggle the metal sides of the bed with shrill clanging. The noise alerted a nurse standing outside the door, who stepped in.

"Mr. Beckford, are you okay?" she cooed, holding a clipboard to her chest as though it were a shield. She knew to be wary. They all did.

"Where is Carrie?" he huffed, barely able to breathe. "Where is my baby?" The nurse looked to the floor then back up to him, not quite sure of what to say. "Please, just tell me! Do I have a son or a daughter!?"

"The maternity ward told me to tell you that Miss LN pulled through and gave birth to a healthy baby." He slumped back into the hospital bed, letting out a sigh of relief. "However, Ms. LN asked that you sign these papers." The nurse tapped on the clipboard. Mr. Beckford furrowed his eyebrows.

"What? What papers?" The young nurse looked over it quickly to try to summarise it for the patient. "Just read it, what does it say?" She hesitated, the words choking her.

"Oh, um... 'I, Charles Beckford, here swear to waive my parental rights over YN MN LN, born today on-"

"What!?" he shrieked, suddenly and aggressively grappling against the restraints. The nurse jolted in fear, calling out for other staff to come to her aid. "This bitch thinks she can steal my child for me!? I'll fucking kill her! I'll fucking kill her! I'll fucking-"

Another round of sedation hit his veins, finally. His body went limp, but he tried to fight the constraint. He whimpered and murmured, desperately trying to stay awake. There was no such luck, however.

Four days later, Carolyn LN stepped out of the hospital with her infant wrapped in her arms. Carrie had made plenty of mistakes in her lifetime, but going against her duties as a nurse and fucking a psych ward patient was probably her biggest regret. But now she had you from it. This was going to be okay.

Yeah, she got fired. Yeah, she was going to be evicted if she couldn't make rent this month. Yeah, her only vehicle was a sparkly red moped that couldn't hold a child's seat. Yeah, she was in debt from her ADN (associates degree in nursing). And yeah, she was kinda fucked now. But holding you tightly in her arms, Carrie LN felt like she might be okay.

As long as that psycho didn't try to contact either of you. Who knew what he was capable of?

You sat in a small plastic chair, kicking out your legs as your hands were folded under your thighs. Mrs. Lyle looked at you from her desk. You were a month away from your sixth birthday. Mrs. Lyle watched you carefully. All these toys were laid out in front of you, but you didn't touch any of them. You just looked at them.