Life Behind the Curtains: $old. (Shawn Mendes Fanfic)

Chapter 32

Down, down down, everything's going downhill 📉

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It's 9 pm. I put Amber in bed but she won't go to sleep. Her eyes are wide open and she stares at the ceiling. She's been doing that for an hour.

Watching her like this is breaking my heart, knowing I can't do anything to help her.

She didn't even eat.

I left the bedroom to go find something to eat. I eat too much when I'm stressed. Then I work out when I'm stressed. It's all a cycle anyway.

How long is this going to last? Is it...permanent? It can't be.

I abandoned the pack of chips and cuddled Stormy in my arms. I was in desperate need of some cuddles today.

"Thank you for helping us the other day," I pecked a kiss in between his ears, caressing his soft fur and he curled up on my lap.

He let out a soothing pur, making me smile sadly. I haven't really smiled, not since she became a ghost.

Or a statue. I don't know how to explain it, really. I suck at explaining in general.

Should I have to check up on her every few minutes? Or should I give her space? I've never dealt with anything like this before.

I decided to check on her one last time. My mind can't rest- I am in constant worry of what will happen to her. This has to be temporary.

She wasn't in bed? My eyes darted around the room, only to find her crouching at the corner, holding her knees to her chest and rocking back and forth.

Her mouth was moving, but I could hear no words coming out as I rushed by her side. "What's wrong? Are you okay? What happened??"

No response- what did I expect? I was about to pull away when I heard her mumble the same word, over and over again.

"No...No...No...No! No!" Her sad tone evolved into a frightened, as she began screaming as she rocked back and forth. 

"Shhh, it's okay," I forced her to lay on my chest. But then something happened. She fought me.

She started kicking violently as she screamed, "No!! Nooo! No!" Her arms thrashing to get out of my hold. Does she not like it? Maybe she's stuck in a nightmare while still awake.

How do you get someone out of that? I remember reading about the comfort and love of someone.

"I'm here. No one is going to hurt you. Relax, " I try to soothe her, but it clearly doesn't work, as she just thrashes harder. "Fuck that hurts Am," I wince as one of her nails scratch a little too hard for my liking on my arm.

"Hey, hey, calm down," I hold her shoulders still, minimizing her restlessness. "No! Please no, don't take him away," she sobbed aloud, "Please!! I need him!! Come back."

The baby was a boy? How could she have known? 

Oh, imagine a sweet baby boy walking around and calling me dad. 

I closed my eyes for a brief second, and the image of a little boy with curly hair running into my arms, saying, "Dada, look what Mom got me!!"

I cried, beside her, until we were both pouring our eyes out.

I need to know if it would have been a boy. How had she known? Motherly instinct?

With shaky fingers, I texted the doctor, Amber's body still in my vision. He texted back immediately.

"I retained that information because it would have only worsened the pain, but yes, it was a boy. I must say, I'm sorry for your-" I knew he was going to say loss, so I turned off my phone and took a deep breath.

You can not break down until Amber has gone to sleep. After that, you can cry all you want.

I made a deal with myself and sought to accomplish it.

Amber had resorted from screaming to whispering and shaking. My poor girl.

"It's okay, it's okay," I mumbled sweet words and I held her still and prevented her from rocking back and forth. 

"Come back, I need him..Please.." I held her head gently, placing my linger on her lips to prevent her from speaking. "Shhh, go to sleep. It's an escape from everything, I promise. Just sleep. Everything will feel better tomorrow."

She froze, and one word escaped her lips, "Okay." 

She can hear me. She answered me! That is true progress!! I felt grateful.

She closed her eyes, and after a few minutes, fell asleep. She really was tired.

I walked out and went into one of the many spare bedrooms. I stared at my right hand, blinking. I don't even remember grabbing this bottle of whiskey from the counter.

Then how is it in my hand?

Fuck. I thought I was going to be a father. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Everything was going perfectly, and then you had to go and ruin it!

The bitter taste burned my throat. I'm an alcoholic, and I don't know how to stop.

Now everything is all wrong. Amber's broken, I'm an alcoholic, and our child is fucking dead.

I can't even fix it.

I threw the empty $100 bottle of whiskey and watched as it shattered against the hardwood floor.

Fuck. What do I do? I can't do anything right. Is this going to be my life now? 

I should have died.

What do I have to live for anymore? I stood on the shards of glass purposefully, cursing as the sharpness slices the bottom of my feet.

I deserve this. I did this. All of this is my fault. I let her drink the alcohol without even giving it a second thought. I smoke.

I, I, I. It's always been my fault. 

I push my feet into the glass, needing to feel more pain. I deserve this pain and so much more. It's nowhere near how Amber felt when she lost our baby.

I picked up a larger shard and scraped my inner wrist, watching the warm blood trickling down my skin.

I should just die here. It will save everyone a whole lot of trouble.

I repeat the same on my other wrist, the thick red liquid felt rather soothing dripping down my skin.

No. It's not supposed to feel good. It's supposed to hurt. I wedged the piece into my hand, groaning as pain surged through my whole body.

Fuck. I hit a nerve. 

It hurts. Good. That's exactly what Amber felt like, except 10 times more painful.

I need more glass. It seems I have run out.

I dragged myself out of the room, with every step wincing as the shards entered deeper and deeper.

I look at the large, pointy piece of glass in my hands, and shove into my lower stomach, my legs buckling as I stumbled into the bedroom.

It was getting hard to breathe, and I couldn't stop coughing.

I'm going to die. I'm ready. 

The last thing I could hear was a choked sob as I felt a hand caress my cheek.

I'm ready to surrender. I'm doing this for her.