Latest / Shallow Nights: Scary Bedtime Stories / Unraveling the Intricacies of Grief: A Tale of Love, Loss, and Unseen Presence

Transcript

Unraveling the Intricacies of Grief: A Tale of Love, Loss, and Unseen Presence · Shallow Nights: Scary Bedtime Stories

0:12
My child died after only a month on this earth.
0:15
I'm going to spare myself the tears on explaining how, but the
0:19
tears of my wife are the ones I'll never forget.
0:23
Grief is ugly. It's so, so ugly.
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When we lost him, it sounded as if my wife was regurgitating
0:32
fragments of her soul. Her whales could have shattered
0:35
glass and curdled the blood. The cries would turn to screams.
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Screams at the universe, at whichever sick, twisted higher
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power would let this happen. At herself, at me.
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She'd scream until the skin of her throat shredded to ribbons.
0:55
I'll be honest, I didn't cry. I don't remember if I even shed
1:00
a tear, but not because I wasn't upset.
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I didn't cry because it felt like she was already doing it
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for me. No pain is more shared than a
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grieving mother's cry. I wish there was a handbook on
1:14
grief, A For dummies, if you will, One that could have
1:17
especially prepared me for the before and the after.
1:20
Before, you're just waiting, like you're watching an
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hourglass of life on its last grain.
1:27
My heart is pumping while he flatlines and it hits like a
1:30
wave. I'm going to have to grieve, I
1:32
thought to myself before I could even experience it.
1:36
I thought about how it was coming right for me, and I knew
1:39
that in the blink of an eye, life was going to be something
1:43
that I'd have to fight for. Maybe I was already grieving him
1:46
before he went. Maybe I was prepared, or I just
1:50
thought I was. I don't think you could ever be
1:53
prepared. Then you reach the after.
1:56
Not the moment you leave the hospital room or even the drive
2:00
home. It's the moment you open that
2:02
front door, the air sucked out of the room and you feel that
2:07
thorough void, that void in your chest and your relationship in
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your home. This is it.
2:16
This is my life now. This is real.
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What hurt even more was that this new life wasn't so foreign
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to me. It was 1 I had nearly a month
2:26
ago. I felt so guilty for not
2:28
grieving him, but instead grieving for what he could have
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been. I grieved for the 1st birthday
2:34
and dozens after it, The first steps, the graduations.
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I'd even trade a hormonal teen fight with him over this.
2:43
I couldn't help but grieve the life he could have had instead
2:46
of the one we lost. My wife felt differently.
2:49
She missed their skin touching, humming to him, even dragging
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herself out of bed at 3:00 AM because he was crying again.
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We never really discussed it, but we could just tell that we
3:02
were grieving down to separate paths.
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Our backs were always turned in bed.
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She'd flinch when I'd touch her. It was as if she was allergic to
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me, but I understood she needed her space.
3:15
The funeral was absolute hell on earth.
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Actually, I think rotting in the fiery pits of hell would have
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been better than attending an infant's funeral.
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At least it'd be warm, unlike the icy grip of mourning.
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I remember walking up to the casket alone, staring down at
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him, and all I could think was caskets shouldn't be that small.
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He laid in a box that was small enough to cradle in my arms.
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When they lowered him into the ground, the cries emerged again.
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My wife wailed into the clear morning sky, so guttural it was
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if it was happening all over again.
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But she didn't collapse into my arms.
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She collapsed to the ground as if she wanted to join him.
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Then you open the front door again and the voids are even
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deeper. Everything is even realer.
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We packed up our child's nursery in his future into boxes and
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thought about whether or not to throw it all out.
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She said she wanted them in the attic.
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I said I'd never be able to go up there again if we did, so we
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just left them all in that room collecting dust.
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The door stayed shut at all times, but never locked, just
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closed. I think it's symbolized our
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grief in a way. We closed the door on that part
4:35
of our lives but weren't ready to lock it away forever.
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Each day doesn't get easier, it just gets farther away from the
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day it happened. The mornings are the worst.
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You wake up, your eyes creak open, the morning sun is pouring
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through your window, and then you remember that you're
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grieving as if you could forget. Little things began to tick us
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off. One of us would forget to do the
5:01
dishes and it end up with someone sleeping on the couch or
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taking a long midnight drive. We tried couples therapy, but we
5:09
needed so much more therapy than that.
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It wasn't even about us, it was about him.
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The wedge was him. I was at my wits end with how to
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deal with this, but it appeared that my wife was one step ahead
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of me when I heard a soft humming from our bedroom after I
5:27
came home from work. My brows furrowed as I made my
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way upstairs. The last time I heard her hum
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this tune was at the hospital right before the heart rate
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monitor hummed back. When I pushed the crack door
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open. I felt like I was dreaming.
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She was lying in our bed, cradling a baby in her arms,
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looking down at it like she could see every planet, every
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star, every Galaxy. I remember pinching my thigh as
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I stared at her, the slight pain stinging.
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She was so engrossed by it, I could have stood there till the
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end of time and she wouldn't have noticed.
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Honey. She finally looked up.
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Oh, hi. She stretched a smile that had
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become so foreign. What?
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What do you, what are you holding?
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Oh, this, It's a reborn doll. I raised a brow at her.
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They're really stick dolls for mothers to, to help me cope.
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She nodded rapidly, her smile weakening.
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It was as if I had disrupted the fantasy just by asking.
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Oh, I couldn't help but stare at it and stare at her because of
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the way she'd stare at it, as if she was holding her own flesh
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and blood and not plastic. Has it helped?
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I've only had it for a few hours now, but it's comforting.
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It rubbed me the wrong way at first, but if nothing else was
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working, I was glad if this would.
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Do you want to hold them? Suddenly I felt myself at a
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crossroads. I didn't know if I could hold a
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doll. And give her the reaction she
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wanted. I can't look at this.
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I can't look at it like it's my son.
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But I knew that this wasn't just about me.
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So I hesitantly walked over and stretched my arms out.
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A slight chill ran down my spine as its cold skin was placed onto
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my palms. I pulled it close and cradled
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it, staring down at it. And suddenly I crumbled into
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tears. It felt too damn real.
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I dropped to my knees as it laid in my shaking arms, my scrunched
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face already wet. I knew it wasn't actually my
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son, but I realized how much I missed this, not just the
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moments we lost. My wife patiently waited as I
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wailed With my head hung. I let out cries I never knew I
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could, my voice cracking with each ugly SOB.
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After that day, I noticed things getting better.
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It didn't fill the voids, but something else stood inside of
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them for a while just to keep them dormant.
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Whenever she had one of those days where standing on her own 2
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feet didn't feel worth it, she'd hold it, hum to it.
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Sometimes she'd pretend to breastfeed it.
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I will admit it still creeped me out to some extent.
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It was comforting in a way, but I knew it wasn't him and I think
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this is when the wedge grew deeper.
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One day I came home and as I walked upstairs, my body locked
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as I saw a light leaking out of a door.
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That door, I knew it was unlocked, but I never expected
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either of us to ever open it, at least not so soon.
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I swallowed roughly as I approached it.
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Slowly. Opening the door revealed empty
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boxes in a full nursery. She had set up everything.
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Again. I observed the room as I stepped
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in, a feeling of concern weighing on me.
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Then I noticed something in the crib.
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I wrapped my fingers around the railing and leaned in, my brows
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furrowing as I saw the doll laying.
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I didn't hear you come in. My body jolted as I whipped
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around. Oh, damn.
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Sorry. Sorry you.
9:20
What is this? What?
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What? What is this our nursery?
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Well, yeah, but why is everything unboxed?
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Our baby needs a nursery. We stared at each other with
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accusations of insanity. I look, I've researched these
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dolls and I understand how this helps you.
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I'll admit it's helped me a bit too.
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But this, you know, this isn't our.
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This isn't our what? Suddenly I was tongue tied.
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I'm just concerned. I unpacked all of this myself.
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I'll put it all back when I want to, OK?
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She said slowly and sternly, daggers shooting from her eyes.
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I could feel 1,000,000 words crawling at my throat, but the
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only thing that came out was OK. I think I need some alone time
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with him. I nodded, looking away as I
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slipped past her. I was trying to be patient with
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her, I really was, but I just couldn't meet her at the length
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she was going. Pretending this is our kid may
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help her, but it only made me feel worse.
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That night, not a word was exchanged under those sheets.
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I was turned towards the window and she was turned towards the
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baby monitor that she put new batteries in.
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After making faces out of the moon, I eventually fell asleep.
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Suddenly, in the middle of the night, I felt myself drift away
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from my dream and wake up. My eyes slowly creaked open, the
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dim moonlight coming through the window.
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The room was silent except for the cries that came through the
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baby monitor. I sat up and rubbed my eyes,
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staring at the monitor as staticky cries emitted from the
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speaker. Liv, wake up.
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I shook my wife till she groaned out of her slumber.
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She lifted her sleeping mask and looked at the monitor.
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My eyes darted towards her, then back at the monitor.
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She sighed, tossed her mask onto the dresser and stood up.
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I'll handle him, get some sleep. I stared at her, wide eyed.
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My throat nodded as she tiredly walked out of the room.
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As she stepped into the nursery, I began to hear her over the
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speaker. It's OK.
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I blinked like a deer in headlights as I listened to her
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hum, the crying slowing to a stop.
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My eyes shifted towards the door.
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She walked back in, grabbed her sleeping mask and laid back
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down. She didn't say a word as I just
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continued to stare. A part of me wanted to go into
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the nursery but I just laid there till my eyes dried and ran
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bloodshot. Before I knew it, the sun was up
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and I had to go to work. I slowly stood up and stiffly
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got ready. I tried to convince myself that
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it was a dream but I had already woken up from 1.
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When I finished getting dressed, I kissed her as she slept and
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left the room. As I passed the nursery, I
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paused for a moment. At first I considered going in,
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but instead I pressed my ear against the door.
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But there was nothing. Just absolute silence.
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I don't know what I thought I was going to hear.
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I didn't even know what I heard last night.
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I couldn't tell if hearing something now would have made me
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feel more or less insane. That day at work was grueling.
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I kept falling asleep at my desk, had a hard time processing
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what people were even saying to me.
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It was just one big blur. When I got home, the first thing
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I wanted to ask my wife was what the hell happened last night.
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But after the incident in the nursery, I feared she'd tell me
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that the doll crying is normal because it's our son.
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When I got home, I was ready to fall flat on my face.
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My wife stood at the sink washing dishes, her head turning
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as I walked in. Hey Hun, hi, how was work?
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You know the usual, be quiet when you go upstairs.
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I just put him down and it wasn't without a fight.
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She chuckled. I'll be sure not to wake it him.
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I anxiously cleared my throat as she quickly glared at me, then
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looked away. At least I was trying to play
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along. I quietly walked upstairs,
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minimizing the creaks of each step.
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As I passed the door, I could feel my breathing and heartbeat
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halt to a stop. Something about it just always
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knocks the wind out of me, and dinner was so silent you could
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hear a pin falling before it even dropped.
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Chewing and sipping filled the dense quiet.
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I was thinking of taking him to a mommy and me class.
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I looked up, my chewing slowed. Is that sounds good.
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I bit my tongue and smiled. I couldn't tell if she was being
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serious or if she just wanted to talk.
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I also wish you'd spend more time with them.
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You avoid the nursery like the plague.
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She laughed. Weekly.
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I'll, I'll make sure to do that, thank you.
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Watching her eat, the look on her face, I could tell she could
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barely get the food down her throat.
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She was trying, she was really trying.
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I felt guilty for not being more understanding.
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It was hard to accept that we were just going to be grieving
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in different ways no matter what, but I was at a crossroads
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when it felt like our grief couldn't help each other.
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But the one thing that was itching at the back of my mind
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was last night. It was crying.
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How could it be crying? It didn't seem to surprise her
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either. I tried to make any logical
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reasoning for it. Maybe she set an alarm with a
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baby crying sound, or if there's a speaker inside of it,
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something to make it feel realer.
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It was possible, except for one other thing.
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It sounded so much like him. If you're not a parent, a baby
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crying is just a baby crying. But I could pick out those cries
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from a crowd. Maybe it's just grief playing
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mind games. I couldn't tell.
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Later that night, after brushing my teeth, I was walking to our
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bedroom when I noticed my wife in the nursery.
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She was slowly rocking back and forth in the rocking chair,
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humming to it. Hey, I finally got him to sleep.
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She said after noticing me hovering in the doorway.
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That's good, come say goodnight. I stared for a moment before
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forcing myself to enter the room.
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She stood up and walked over to the crib, then gently placed it
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down. She leaned down, kissed his
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forehead, then turned to me. I glanced at her, then at it.
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I could tell she was expecting me to do the same.
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I hesitantly leaned towards it, my lips puckered.
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Suddenly, as I got closer, a pungent smell entered my
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nostrils. I tried to ignore it, but I
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recoiled as I got closer, the fowl stench growing stronger.
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My wife glared at me in horror as I gagged, clasping my hand in
16:33
my mouth. What the hell is wrong with you?
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I'm sorry. It him, not it him, OK, he
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smells like a damn dumpster fire.
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What, does he have a built in fecal mechanics too?
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Tears welled in her eyes as I looked away with Gil, my entire
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body shaking. Just admit that this is a joke
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to you. You think I'm embarrassing
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myself, that I'm crazy? Just say it live.
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No, actually, don't. Just sleep somewhere else
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tonight. The couch, the damn sidewalk, I
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don't care, OK? I flew out of the room before I
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could burst into tears of fury. I felt like such a monster.
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Prioritizing both of our healing was just tearing me apart.
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It was tearing us apart. I curled up on the couch and
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screamed into the pillow, leaving tear stains on the
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cover. I sobbed until it exhausted me,
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eventually knocking me out. All of a sudden, I was ripped
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from my slumber at the sound of glass shattering my body.
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Jolting awake, I quickly sat up, my eyes darting around in a
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blur. Throwing the blankets off of me,
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I stood up and searched for the source of the sound.
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The room was pitch black as I ran my hand along the walls to
17:49
find a light switch. Suddenly my eyes shot open as
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something sharp and pale to the bottom of my foot.
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Ah, damn it. I hissed to myself as I lifted
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my foot. Now I was hopping around till I
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found a light switch while also avoiding glass that I could not
18:06
see. Eventually I found one
18:08
illuminated the kitchen. I looked down at my foot, a
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small train of blood drops behind me.
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I lifted it up, blood leaking down my skin.
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It was a small Shard of porcelain.
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So I pursed my lips, took a deep breath, bit my cheek and yanked
18:25
it out. I swallowed a scream as I placed
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the Crimson coated Shard on the kincha counter.
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Then I noticed some white powder on the bottom of my foot as
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well. I limped around the kitchen,
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soon finding a shattered jar cookie and an open flour bag
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spilled across the floor. Oh damn it.
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I quickly tied an unused dish rag around my foot and began
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picking up the shards. The stress of the cut and the
18:53
mess overshadowed the thought of how it even fell in the 1st
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place. But this thought came front and
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center when I noticed small flower coated footprints leading
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out of the kitchen. I slowly placed the last Shard
19:07
in the trash as my eyes stared under furrowed brows.
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I limped over and kneeled down, observing them closely.
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They looked like no impossible, I told myself.
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It was impossible, but who else could have feet that small?
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It wasn't my wife and it wasn't an animal.
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An uneasiness clouded over me as I quickly vacuumed it up.
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The trail was longer than I realized as I exited the kitchen
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and made my way through the living room.
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Eventually, I reached the stairs, noticing the footprints
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went up them too. My eyes slowly glided up and
19:43
then stared deeply into the dark hallway.
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I was able to at least try and logically explain the crying the
19:50
other night, but I couldn't make anything of this.
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I took a deep breath and slowly made my way upstairs.
19:58
With each footprint that vanished into the vacuum added
20:01
one more beat to my pounding heart.
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When I reached the top step, I realized the trail LED even
20:07
farther. I continued to follow it, taking
20:10
the curve it took that ended at a door.
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That door. I slowly stood up, my heavy
20:17
shaking breaths hitting the wood, but I couldn't bring
20:20
myself to go in. I just wanted to cry, feeling
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like I was being haunted by my own grief.
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I could have been standing there for a minute or an hour, either
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way, it felt like forever before I finally stepped away and
20:33
entered the bathroom. I held back tears as I made sure
20:38
there wasn't any glass left in my foot, then properly bandaged
20:41
it. With everything that had
20:43
happened and was happening, all I could think was why us?
20:48
Why me? I just wanted to be a husband, a
20:51
father, a family. Why does life's unfairness have
20:55
to be so cruel? It's more than just not getting
20:59
what you want. It's losing what you love.
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It's your son dying after only a month of being.
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It's not unfair, it's just cruel.
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It's so damn cruel. After securing the bandage, I
21:13
limped out of the bathroom, my body weighing with exhaustion.
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Then I halted in front of the nursery door, my eyes scrunching
21:20
shut as the sound of crying suddenly came from behind it.
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Never in my life have I prayed, not even for my son.
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It felt like shouting into a void, but at that moment, I
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prayed. I prayed for it to end.
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I needed it to end, but nobody was listening.
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Life wasn't that fair. I should have known that.
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I opened my eyes, tears welling in them, and kept walking past
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it. The cries grew fainter as there
21:51
was a ceiling between us, but I could still hear them.
21:54
I could feel them crying for daddy as I laid my heavy head on
21:57
the couch pillow. I had hoped that my wife would
22:00
wake up and deal with it, but she never did.
22:03
The entire night I laid there, the tears drying against my
22:07
cheeks as it relentlessly cried. My psyche was shattering piece
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by piece as it grew impossible to even keep a grasp on reality
22:15
or try and figure out what the hell was going on while it
22:19
screams filled my ears and bounced around in my skull.
22:24
At that point I just wanted to die, or to at least just be
22:29
numb. To have the ability to just not
22:31
give a single damn about anything happening, even if just
22:35
for five seconds. What if helped me sleep that
22:38
night. By the time it was morning, the
22:41
crying had stopped at some point, but I don't remember when
22:46
Jack, my wife, suddenly said, her hand resting on my shoulder.
22:51
I jolted, my head whipping towards her.
22:54
Didn't mean to scare you. It's fine.
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I just didn't sleep. I could see guilt hanging on her
23:01
expression. Is everything all right?
23:05
I want to apologize for last night.
23:10
You've been very patient with me, and I feel like I've been
23:13
asking you for more than you can handle.
23:15
We paused in silence for a moment, our eyes shifting around
23:19
each other. I, I, I appreciate it.
23:24
I'm sorry too. I've been too judge mental.
23:27
We don't have to be on the same page to care about each other.
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She sat down next to me and rested her head on my shoulder.
23:34
I kissed the top of her head and enjoyed the quiet with her.
23:37
I wanted to bring up what I saw last night but figured now
23:40
wasn't the right time and about the smell.
23:45
You weren't wrong. I went to go see him this
23:47
morning and it hit me like a truck.
23:49
She chuckled. Weekly.
23:51
Turns out it was molding on the inside, which can happen
23:55
apparently. I reached out to the seller and
23:57
she said that happens due to poor upkeep.
24:02
Suddenly she broke into tears, collapsing into my chest.
24:06
I held her close as her tears soaked through my shirt.
24:10
How did I manage to lose them twice?
24:12
My heart shattered. It's OK, it's OK, you can always
24:16
get a new one. No I can't.
24:19
I looked into her eyes with deep concern.
24:22
Olivia, can we speak honestly for a moment?
24:25
With no hard feelings? She slowly nodded.
24:29
It's a doll, you can get a new one.
24:33
Even then I pushed the wrong buttons as she ripped herself
24:35
from my arms and stormed upstairs.
24:38
You don't get it, you never did. You know what?
24:41
No, no, that's not fair. None of this is fair.
24:46
Before I could get another word in, she was already in our
24:48
bedroom, the door slamming behind her.
24:51
I buried my face in my hands as I drew deep, slow breaths.
24:56
Everyone always said grief brings people together, but all
24:59
this is doing is tearing everything apart.
25:02
My marriage, myself, my understanding of what's real and
25:06
what isn't. I spent another work day in a
25:09
complete daze. I even got reprimanded by my
25:11
boss for lack of work ethic. When I got home, I was met with
25:15
a distraught wife. She was definitely still mad at
25:19
me, so I considered whether or not to even ask if she was OK.
25:24
Hey, Hun, are you all right? I threw him out.
25:28
Oh, I'm sorry. Are you Liv Surprised you didn't
25:33
say thank God? Look, I'm sorry about this
25:37
morning, but I'm trying. And I know you know that, but
25:40
it's hard when you keep flying off the handle.
25:43
Do you want to see somebody? A grief counselor.
25:47
He was my grief counselor. That's why I'm getting another
25:50
one, just like you said, right? Right.
25:53
Whatever works for you. I smiled weakly.
25:58
She sipped her coffee with a daze in her eye, like she could
26:01
see something that wasn't there. Just by looking at her, you
26:04
could tell she was dangling at the edge, but I couldn't pry and
26:07
prod anymore. For her sake and mine.
26:11
She let me sleep in our bed that night, but we didn't exchange
26:13
any more words other than good night.
26:16
I could feel the back of her ankles against my legs.
26:19
At some point she even turned towards me in her sleep, but she
26:22
didn't want to touch me. She needed just enough space and
26:26
I let her have it. A night without it in the house
26:30
gave me the best sleep I had gotten since he died.
26:33
I woke up feeling refreshed for once, but I quickly noticed the
26:37
emptiness next to me. She must have gotten up early.
26:40
As I left the bedroom, my brows furrowed as I heard humming from
26:43
behind the nursery door. My puzzled expression twisted
26:47
further as I saw my wife cradling it in her arms.
26:51
Good morning. I thought you had to get rid of
26:55
them. Good morning.
26:57
And I did. This is the new one.
26:59
She smiled. Wow, already so fast.
27:04
Express shipping. She shrugged with a chuckle.
27:08
Sweet, I'm going to try and put him down for his nap.
27:11
Could you bring me a cup? Yeah, sure.
27:15
I smiled before closing the door behind me.
27:18
The second she couldn't see me anymore, I stood absolutely
27:21
baffled. Something about it just seemed
27:24
off. How could she have gotten a new
27:26
one that quickly and didn't add up?
27:29
She had gotten so attached to it.
27:31
The thought of her wanting to keep it no matter the mold
27:34
didn't surprise me. What hurt the most is that she
27:37
had lied to me. After filling the steaming mugs,
27:40
I set them down at the table and read the news on my phone as I
27:44
waited for her to come down. He didn't put up a fight, thank
27:47
God. She sighed with relief as she
27:50
trotted downstairs. That's good.
27:54
I sipped my coffee, keeping my eyes on the screen.
27:58
She sat across from me, taking slow sips as she stared off in a
28:02
daze again. I occasionally glanced up at
28:05
her, watching her tap her finger against the mug and bite her
28:08
cheek. Are you all right?
28:11
She laughed at the question, circling her finger around the
28:14
rim of the mug. Weather's nice today.
28:18
She responded. It is.
28:21
Maybe you should spend some time outside.
28:23
You could take him out for a walk.
28:25
Yeah, that sounds nice. Her words trailed off like she
28:30
was dreaming. I helped her take out the baby
28:32
carriage that we never got to use and watched with unease as
28:36
she laid the doll in it. Hope you do have a nice time.
28:39
I smiled. We'll be back soon.
28:43
We quickly kissed before she was out the door, and finally I
28:46
could breathe. It was only a mere few hours,
28:49
but it was still time to breathe.
28:52
It was also time to think. The past few nights I had
28:55
experienced things that were beyond what I thought grief
28:58
would be like. I knew it'd be haunting, but not
29:01
like this. I never really believed in the
29:04
supernatural. I'd say I'm a skeptical person,
29:09
but after the constant crying, the footprints, I couldn't make
29:12
any logic out of it. I'd run in circles to death
29:15
before it made any actual sense, and my wife seems to know more
29:19
than she's letting on. But I was scared that one more
29:22
question would push her out the door.
29:24
I couldn't lose her too. But now our grief wasn't just
29:28
going down two different paths, it was going in completely
29:31
opposite directions. She needed the doll to heal, and
29:35
I needed it gone to heal, but I didn't know how to get rid of it
29:38
without hurting her in the process.
29:41
I thought about tossing it and making her believe she misplaced
29:44
it, but that just felt cruel. I didn't need to put her under
29:47
any more distress. By the time she got back, I
29:51
hadn't really moved off of square one.
29:53
I still understood nothing. I figured out nothing.
29:57
I was just aching even more. Are you feeling better?
30:01
Yeah, it was nice to get some sun.
30:03
This little guy enjoyed it too, didn't you?
30:06
Didn't you? She gushed.
30:09
I couldn't help but feel so uncomfortable watching her treat
30:12
it like it was our son. But it's her way of coping and I
30:15
had to respect that to at least put myself at some ease.
30:19
I told myself that I'm just under a lot of stress and that
30:22
my grieving mind is just playing tricks on me.
30:25
My guest of being tormented by him was better than never seeing
30:28
him again. That night she laid close to me,
30:32
our legs intertwined as she fell asleep against me, her arm
30:36
across my chest. I missed her warmth so much, I
30:40
thought, as death had cooled her touch, but she was still so warm
30:44
and comforting. It was easy falling asleep that
30:47
night with her against me like a child in their favorite stuffed
30:50
animal, but I was stupid to forget that.
30:53
Life isn't unfair, it's cruel. In the middle of the night, I
30:58
was awoken by the cries over the baby monitor again.
31:01
Only this time, as my eyes opened, I realized I couldn't
31:05
move anything else. My heart pounded as I drew in
31:08
panic to breaths. My jaw merely trembled as I
31:11
attempted to speak. Please for help caught in my
31:14
throat. A tear streamed down the side of
31:18
my face as I waited for my wife to wake up.
31:20
But she didn't. I was locked on that bed, unable
31:24
to do nothing but listen to its cries.
31:27
I wanted to scream, sob, punch a damn wall, but I could do
31:31
absolutely nothing. Suddenly, the speak cut out, its
31:36
cries halting with a staticky screech.
31:39
My trembling breaths filled the silent room as my body stayed
31:43
frozen on the bed. I couldn't even squeeze out a
31:45
groan to try and wake her. Then the sound of a door
31:49
creaking open came from the hallway and the cries began
31:53
again. Not over the speaker, but from
31:57
the hallway. Its cries sounded distorted.
32:02
They were deeper, more drawn out, and they sent goosebumps
32:07
from head to toe. I scrunched my eyes as I began
32:11
to be able to move, the crying nearing closer.
32:16
Then the bedroom door slowly opened, the deep cries filling
32:20
up the room. I looked over at my wife, who
32:23
was somehow still asleep. I wondered if this was even
32:27
happening outside of my own head.
32:30
I couldn't see it, but I could tell it was moving closer, and
32:35
with each step its cries grew deeper.
32:38
It reached the point that it sounded like it was gargling on
32:41
its own blood when it stood by my ear.
32:45
Its sobs were deafening now. I couldn't move and I couldn't
32:49
hear anything besides this suffocating, dizzy and crying
32:53
that made me feel like I was drowning in molten tar.
32:58
Dada. It gurgled.
33:00
And just like that, I felt my entire body unlock and a scream
33:04
worth 1000 screams exited my mouth like a damn breaking open.
33:10
The sound waves rippled my throat as I scatteredly threw
33:13
myself off the bed and into the corner of the room.
33:15
The damn it. My wife shouted as she finally
33:18
woke up, ripping off her sleeping mask and turning the
33:21
lamp on. I let out wails of pure terror
33:24
as I balled up in the corner, my body trembling.
33:28
My God, what happened? I, I, he, he, he was.
33:32
I could barely squeeze out a word in between sobs.
33:36
Damn it. She hopped off the bed and
33:39
kneeled next to me, my body flinching as she reached for me.
33:42
What happened? I slowly turned to her, my eyes
33:46
gaping wide. Instead of saying a word, I
33:49
stumbled in my feet and made my way out of the bedroom.
33:52
Where are you going? What happened, Jack?
33:56
I ignored her calls as I threw the nursery door open.
33:59
My eyes darted around as I searched for it, then realized
34:03
it was in the crib. Jack, what are you doing?
34:07
I'm not doing this anymore. Jack, can we talk about this?
34:10
She gasped in horror as I yanked it out of the crib.
34:13
You're right Olivia, this isn't a doll, this is a damn parasite
34:18
and I want it gone. Jack, please, that's our son.
34:22
No it's not. She winced as I screamed.
34:26
Stop it, please. She begged, tears pouring down
34:30
her face as I began rapidly shaking in front of her face.
34:34
This isn't our son. Then, in one final burst of
34:39
rage, I gripped it by its throat and slammed it to the ground
34:43
with all of my might. In this moment, I realized that
34:49
I learned two things from the death of my son.
34:53
Caskets aren't supposed to be that small, and reborn dolls
34:57
aren't supposed to have internal organs.
35:01
My wife crumbled to her knees as she let out those cries, the
35:05
ones I could never forget. My breathing and heartbeat
35:08
practically stopped, my body shutting down for a moment as I
35:12
stared down at the spilled, graying organs and mushy skin
35:16
that she attempted to cup in her trembling hands.
35:20
I slowly looked up at her, utter horror hanging on my expression.
35:26
Olivia, what is this? He didn't belong down there.
35:32
He belongs with me, with us.