Emilia

33: Emilia

TW: suicide attempt

-Emilia-

I stood at the kitchen counter, chopping away at the bell peppers for the dinner that I was planning on making tonight. A smile made it's way onto my face as I felt Vincent's hands snake up my waist, gripping my sides as he pulled me back against his body.

"I love you." He whispered, resting his chin onto my shoulder as I closed my eyes, leaning my head back against his chest.

"I love you too." I whispered back, his hands running up and down my waist as the smile on my face slowly fell. The warmth of his hands had left my body within seconds as the memory of him faded away.

I opened my eyes to see the tv in front of me as it flickered between scenes of the cartoon that it was playing in the living room.

I sniffled quietly as I tried not to wake up Ryan who was sitting a few inches away from me on the couch. My eyes focused on the tv as tears ran down my cheeks. They dripped off of my chin and onto the blanket that covered my knees which were pulled up to my chest as I hugged them tightly.

It's been two months since I've last seen him. Each day that goes by is another day where I wake up with less and less hope that I'll ever see him again. Each day is a day that I miss him more than I did the last.

Every waking moment, I am filled with dread at the thought of being in his presence again. Not because I don't miss him, that's simply not true. I miss him more than anything in this world, but it is because I don't know how I would tell him that we lost the baby.

My body wasn't strong enough to carry his child. I wasn't strong enough to carry his child. How was I supposed to tell him that he was going to be a father? I seen the look on his face once before when we had a pregnancy scare. He was so happy and prepared to be a dad and when he seen the negative results, he looked broken. I couldn't do that to him. I couldn't put him through that type of pain again.

I glanced over at Ryan who was asleep on the couch right next to me with a beer in his hand. He's cut off drugs for good, but he's been drinking a lot more. He has been trying to do better with his actions. He had not put his hands on me for a while until he came home from work drunk a couple weeks ago.

Now, I'm tainted with bruises on almost every inch of my body.

I've slowly fallen into a state where I feel like I have nothing left to fight for. My days consist of me lying around in bed all day while my body deteriorates in a slow manner because I don't have the energy to do anything. I can barely eat because my body ends up rejecting whatever I put inside. I can barely keep my eyes closed without having one of my many nightmares about this place.

I've been here for two months, and there hasn't been a day where I've stopped crying. I have to force myself to stop around Ryan, otherwise if I continue, it just pisses him off.

I wanted change in my life. I wanted to be the girl who finally could have the happy ending she always wanted, but that's just not the way that I was born to live. The minute I was brought into this world, my life was set up for me to be destroyed.

I sniffled, wiping the tears from my eyes as I looked over at Ryan. I pulled my blanket off of my legs as I silently got up from the couch, picking up my dinner plate that was still left with my food on it.