A Soldier's Girl

Chapter 42:

Chapter 42:

Daryl's View

It was difficult last night. Not talking to her for the whole day. Not being able to think straight and talk to my wife- explain things to her. This morning, holding her after weeks of being apart, of drowning in myself and pain- it feels good to wake up and feel her tiny, fragile hand laying on my chest and to hear her breath in my neck with her legs intertwined with mine.

How did we lose this? How did we end up in a dumpster of despair and anger? Me. That's how...and maybe her hormones. And my big stupid mouth. My damaged brain. My aching heart. All of me. It's my fault we almost lost all of this. My fault I almost didn't wake up again. Me. I'm the problem. Getting up, I leave her laying strewn across the bed and head downstairs. I need to end this pain. This irritation of myself.

Looking through all the cupboards, I can't find my pills, or blades, or anything. I can't find anything to release this pain inside. As I tear apart a kitchen drawer I stop when I feel eyes on me. Turning, I see her in her silky night gown and her cheeks burning hot and eyes preparing to cry.

"Beth..." I can't find any words. She knows what I'm doing...what I'm trying to do. She trembles in her place and I feel like shit.

"Are you really jus unhappy?" Her voice is quiet and heavy. I set the drawer on the counter and turn to face her. "Is it me?"

"Beth...no..."

"Do you jus not love me any more? Is it the baby?" She's barely able to catch her breath.

"It's none of those things... it's jus me..."

"No. I don't believe that..." She sobs and I take a step toward her and she steps back, holding her sides. "Is it us?"

"Beth..."

"It is...its me." She cries and she stamps her foot in pain and covers her eyes as she keeps going off in her tears. "Daryl, I'm sorry...I'll change...I'll...I'll lose the baby...or give it up...please I'll do anything, jus don't hurt yerself any more...don't kill yerself please.....please."

She's on the ground at my feet rocking back and forth and she just can't find her breath or peace. I feel crushed and terrible. Angered and selfish.

"Please...pleasee.... Daryl...you wanna leave me, do that...just don't hurt yerself...please...pleeasseee." She holds onto my legs and just cries and cries without ever finding a breath and now she's hyperventilating, dry heaving, making herself sick because of me. Because I'm the wrong person. The idiot. The failure of the human race. Getting down on my knees I scoop her up and take her upstairs, she cries and pleads the whole way. "No...no...please don't do this...no... I love you please...please... Don't do this...Daryl please don't do this...."

Laying her in bed, I cover her up and she keeps trying to escape, but I have no choice but to wrap her in the whole blanket tightly, kinda like a taco, and wait. She still cries and pleads as I hold her wrapped tightly in the blanket so she can't even move or escape it.

"Please... please... Daryl...please." She's so worked up that the tight hold of the blanket puts her to sleep quickly. I kiss her forehead and go downstairs, shutting the door behind me.

I clean up the kitchen and the hate rushes back to me. I'm so fucked up that I can't even think about anything else but killing myself. I know I want Beth and the baby, but the other half of me wants to just die. Shaking my head, I try and just think if Beth. I try to just think if her and how much I love her. But death is still there.

Beth's View

Waking up, I look at the clock on the wall by the bathroom. 10:39. I slept all day and no thanks to this cocoon I'm in. I remember when I was younger and would have panic attacks, this is how Daryl would calm me down. To out me to sleep after getting so worked up. It hits me.

"Daryl!" I struggle against the blanket and try to get out. "Daryl!"

Panic sets in and I can't get out of this fucking blanket! The house is quiet and that makes it worse. I struggle and tears prick up in my eyes again.

"Noooooo! No! No!" I thrash on the bed and find the only way out of this blanket is gonna hurt. Rolling to the edge of the bed, I bounce up and off, hitting the wooden floor hard on my back, but the blankets released me. Kicking the blankets out, I sprint down the stairs and find the kitchen cleaned up. I go and pound on the guest room. Empty. I go to the nursery and the other guest room. Both empty.

"Fuckkkk!" I scream and I race down to the game room. That's empty as well. Back up the the garage, I swing the door open and it's empty also. Going insane, I run back about the house and then out to the deck. I crash to the ground when it just hits me.