[Alyssa]
I lay on my back and stare up at the mirrored ceiling, seeing my reflection staring back at me. The girl in the mirror possesses none of my facial features; her face is all red and puffy from crying, and her once straightened hair is scattered into a messy bun. I've been laying in my bed for the past three weeks doing nothing but crying and checking the door every time it opens to make sure it isn't Chresanto.
The door opens and my head snaps in its direction only to see Keeleigh staring at me with a look of disapproval written as clear as day on her face. "Aly, this isn't healthy." She motions towards the bed where I'm lying. "I understand you're grieving, but you have to get out of bed at some point. Chres wouldn't want you laying in the bed all torn up because he's dead."
"I don't want to get out of bed," I retort, pulling the covers over my head. "I just want to die in the bed."
"Don't say that. Think of your child, would you? You're three months pregnant, an all this grieving isn't good for either of you," she snaps. "Now, get out of bed, get a shower and get some clothes on." I shake my head. "Alyssa, get up."
"No," I groan into the pillow. "Just leave me here to die."
"Stop talking like that! You aren't going to die, Aly!" she snaps. "You're just grieving right now, and as soon as you have your baby, you'll be smiling again."
"Pipe, I can't raise a child al-"
She shakes her head and cuts me off, "You won't be alone. You have me, Dahlia and Chandler."
A knock on the door causes both of us to turn in the direction to see Dahlia standing in the doorway with a tray of food. "I hope you guys are hungry. I've got food."
"I'm not eating," I groan into the pillow.
"Aly, you haven't eaten in early two weeks. That's not good for you or the baby. You have to eat something," she responds, and I feel the bed dip as an indication that someone sat down; i assume it's Dahlia, and once she begins speaking, I know my assumption is correct due to the closeness of her voice. "Can you at least try to eat something?"
I shake my head. "Aly, can you please try to eat something? Chres wouldn't want you to starve his child," Chandler tries to reason.
I shake my head. "I can't eat. It won't stay down."
[Mario]
I sit down in the wooden gazebo, staring at the picture in my hand. The other four people look so familiar, as if I've known them for a long period of time.
"Mario!" I hear Alana yell before I see her small frame running to the gazebo; she sits next to me. "Can I still call you Mario even though that isn't your name?" For her to only be four, she certainly is a smart kid.
"You sure can," I respond. "What's up, Little Lana?"
"Mommy wants to know if you want to walk to the creek with us." She looks up at me with her muddy brown eyes and bats them before tilting her head, her chestnut brown, shoulder length curls bouncing. "Please..." She pokes her bottom lip out, and that gets me.
"Okay, okay, I'll go. Just stop giving me the puppy dog face," I cave in. She starts doing her happy dance, and I chuckle. "You knew I would have said yes anyway, Little Lana."
