Life Without Them (On Hold)

Prologue: Crushed

~Sang~

It's been five years since I found the letter from the nine greatest loves of my life, telling me that they left me. With the letter clutched in my hand, I had sunk down to the floor and cried. My tears were enough to flood the immaculate house we'd been living in, two times over. Unfortunately, the flood of my tears did not carry me away, nor did it bring my loves back to me. I cried myself to sleep that night, on the floor of our beautiful kitchen, with their letter in my hand, a vice like grip on it. Afraid that if I let it go, they really would be gone.

When I woke up the next morning, I was determined to find out what happened to them. I didn't care that the letter told me not to look, they would do it for me; surely someone knew where they were. I managed to get dressed and choke down breakfast, before getting into my car and driving to Summerville. If anyone knew what happened to the boys, my money would be on Erica and Uncle.

The drive to Summerville was a long one, in which I only had my thoughts to occupy me, and they were not good ones. My mind kept coming back to the same question: why did they leave me? When I arrived at Erica's, she opened the door with a tear-streaked face, probably much like my own yesterday. When I asked her if she knew where the boys were, she told me that she had gotten a letter as well, and that she couldn't help me find them. She closed the door in my face, muffled crying from her and Jessica could be heard on the other side. Erica had always treated me like one of her own, ever since that first day at breakfast with Kota and Victor...for her to say that she couldn't help me...let's just say it didn't do anything to ease my pain.

Getting back in my car, the tears started to form again. I was able to push them back for the time being, I had a job to do, I had to find them, and breaking down again wouldn't help. I drove over to the diner to see Uncle locking up. It was still early in the day, and to see him closing the diner, was another piece of me breaking. I got out of my car and approached him, begging him to tell me anything he knew about the boys' whereabouts. His exact words were "I'm sorry little bird, I can't help you. Now don't come back." He got into his truck and drove off, leaving me numb.

It's a miracle I made it back to the house in one piece. I was numb, doing everything on autopilot. I walked back into our kitchen where I found the note, and sat at the island. If this was one of Luke's jokes, it sure as hell wasn't funny. I forced myself to eat again, knowing that if North were here, he'd be harping at me to eat healthy. That's what they told me, to stay safe and take care of myself. I would've given anything to hear my big grumpy bear yelling again, to hear any of them really. Unfortunately, eating didn't really help, I threw it all up about an hour later. I trudged back up to my room, determined to wait this out, this had to be some kind of Academy mission they couldn't tell me about, they'd be back in a few days, I knew it.

Apparently denial isn't just a river in Egypt, because for the next few days, I convinced myself that they were coming back. I ate healthy, I kept to my workouts, I kept the house in order, and on the fourth day of them being gone, I broke. I'd been feeling sick ever since they left, I did my best to kick it, but nothing worked. I decided to go see Dr. Roberts and see if he could help me, I knew that the boys wouldn't want me if I was feeling this poorly. In those days, I still had hope that they were coming back.

I arrived at the Academy hospital and asked to see Dr. Roberts. I suppose all of my trips there in the past made me familiar with the hospital staff, because they just directed me to his office. When I got there, the sight that greeted me wasn't a good one. Dr. Roberts had silent tears streaming down his face, a paper clutched in his hand. It was then that it hit me, the boys really were gone, and no one had any idea where they'd gone, or if they'd be back.

Dr. Roberts and I embraced each other, helping the other grieve their loss, but ultimately, it was him who ended up helping me. Once the tears dried up, we got down to the actual reason I came to the hospital. We ran a series of test, which all said that I was perfectly healthy. This stumped the good doctor, and he chose to run one more test that came back positive. I was pregnant. Three months, according to the ultrasound. I made it back to the house in a daze that I was becoming quite familiar with. I tried to eat but couldn't keep anything down. I tried to take care of myself, and ended up a blubbering mess on the kitchen floor instead. Soon enough I avoided the kitchen all together. I grabbed bottles of water and crackers, anything that didn't need to be cooked, and holed up in my room. The silence and loneliness came back like old friends. I wanted to believe that the boys were coming back, if not for me, then for the life growing inside of me...and then I remembered that they didn't know. They left before I found out. They left me, they didn't want me, why would they want my child?