The Fallen One

Chapter One

Grief was a foreign concept to my brother and I growing up. The tragic loss of a family member was just a story told by the older generation and friends at school.

I had never personally experienced it.

That changed in March, 2016.

I walked into that hospital thinking that I was going to leave celebrating the birth of my child — instead, I left grieving the death of her mother.

They say that there are 5 stages of grief.

1. Denial and isolation
2. Anger
3. Bargaining
4. Depression
5. Acceptance

Well, it's now been a month since Elise died in childbirth. My daughter was born twelve weeks early and so, is still in the NICU at the hospital.

So where am I on the five stages of grief?

Number One: denial and isolation.

Which brings me to the present.

April 8th, 2016.

I sit in the corner of the room. My legs pulled to my chest and my chin resting on my knees. My phone sits beside me, buzzing non-stop like it has for the past few weeks.

The lights throughout the entire guest house are dim. My cheeks are stained with salty tears and my eyes were weak and blurred.

I sip the bottle of bourbon, taken from John Carter's liquor cabinet. He won't notice it's missing. After all, he has lost count of how many bottles he has drank.

"I'm going out" Blake walks through the guest house, clean-shaved with new jeans and the strong scent of aftershave. "Ned and I are going to the hospital with John and Justine to see the baby..."

I nod slowly. "Fine"

He pauses, now standing at the front door. "Are you sure you don't want to come with us?"

I shake my head slowly. Blake nods before leaving the guest house.

I haven't been able to look at the baby since that day in the hospital. All I could see when looking at her was Elise's face. That's what my daughter is now — an identical image of her dead mother.

I can't help but hold myself responsible for her death. After all, if I hadn't gotten her pregnant then she would still he here. I know that that's what Blake and Ned think too.

There's a sudden knock at the door, I look up to find Gina. She was Elise and her brothers' nanny growing up and filling the role as their mother.

"Chrissy" she speaks in her thick Spanish accent, holding a dish in her hands. "you have to eat, mi querido"

"No thank you, Gina" I shake my head.

She sighs.

"Get off el floor, por favor" Gina begs. "You get sick"

"I'm sad, Gina" I admit simply, looking down at my blue and grey striped pyjama pants. "And when I'm sad, I sit on the floor"

"No, no be sad...Mi preciosa no want tu to be sad" she frowns, "preciosa in heaven with el padre..."

I forget Gina believes in a God and a heaven and whatever else Catholics believe.

I furrow my brows and meet her gaze. "Do you honestly believe that?"

She nods "si"

"I don't understand...How is it fair that some people get so long on this earth and others don't? How is it fair that some live well into the nineties and yet others die before they turn Twenty-One?" I ask her. "How can someone so special be taken so young? I don't understand. I really don't"

"Si, eh no lo sé" Gina sighs, taking a seat on the deep blue couch. She then smiles and translates, "I don't know either..."

I inhale deeply. "She deserved more time. More time with her friends. More time with her family. More time to make a difference in this world...Time with her daughter...No parent should ever mourn the loss of their child..."

"Eh, si" Gina nods, "el padre always has plan...always...you trust plan and the plan happen...you see..."

"So was it in your God's plan to take Elise?" I question.

Gina softens her gaze "it must be...no lo sé the plan, Chrissy...but...I can hope that he did this for reason...e something good come from it..." with that she stands up and walks to the door "eat, por favor" she begs before leaving the house.

I sigh, taking another sip from the bottle of bourbon. The alcohol makes me feel less of the emotions tied to being human. That's all I've wanted since she died — to feel less.

How can I possibly be expected to continue life without her? She was my heart and soul. The love of my life. The mother of my child and now she's gone. she's nothing but a bag of bones in the ground with a carved out piece of stone reading her name.

And it's my fault.

I'm the reason why John doesn't have his daughter and Ned and Luke don't have their sister.

I take her book from the shelf beside me. It's the one that I bought her for Valentine's day only two months ago.

'Cleopatra: A Life' by Stacy Schiff.

I stand up from the floor, my legs are tight and cramped as they haven't moved in hours. In one hand, I hold the book and the other, a bottle of bourbon.

I fall to my bed, opening the first page.

Chapter one: The Egyptian Woman

"Man's most valuable trait is a judicious of what not to believe." - EURIPIDES

Among the most famous women to have lived, Cleopatra VII ruled Egypt for twenty-two years...

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A/N

Hi all,

This book will be exploring grief in-depth as well as themes that the other books in this series also explores.

This will be the last book of this series and will be tying up ALL the loose ends ;)

I hope you all enjoy!

Please let me know your thoughts so far :)

Happy reading!

- Rose xx