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Marie
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AN: This is a little season final story, there are two parts (three if you like it). Thanks Dee for the title. :)


“ Yeah friends,” you say as she lifts the scalpel, as she rests the blade against your belly and begins to cut. You don’t feel it, the pain, there is no pain, not the physical screaming pain which you imagined child birth would feel like. No there is no pain, not that kind of pain, just the aching in your heart, the pain of knowing what is about to come. “Be quick,” you whisper still wanting to protect your baby. “You need to get him out quickly and keep him warm.”

“I know,” The woman who is holding you captive says. “I read it on the internet, I know what to do.”

You want to roll your eyes, scream at her that she doesn’t know what she’s doing, that you can’t learn how to deliver a baby over the internet but you can’t, your head starts to spin, you’re loosing blood and eyes drift shut.

*****

The screaming baby, it is your baby’s cries which wake you. “Can I see him?” you ask the question but you already know the answer, the woman glares at you and holds the baby protectively against her chest.

“No, it’s not your baby.” She stands up and begins pacing in small circles.

“Please,” You beg, but it’s not going to change anything. You can’t win. “Call an ambulance.” It is a last ditch attempt to save yourself because you don’t want to die, you’re not ready to die. “Please.”

“No,” She holds the baby tighter against her and she begins to pick up her bag.

“Katie please, I don’t want to die.”

She stops moving and looks at you, she stares down at you and then reaches for the phone. For the briefest of moments you think she is going to do it but then she drops it on the floor. “It was nice knowing you Violet.” She says and she walks away.

The front door slams and you feel the floor vibrate beneath you, the first sign that these drugs are wearing off, that you’re getting feeling back, but you still can’t move, you still don’t feel the pain, just weakness. You let out a cry and turn your head, laying on the floor just inches away from you is the phone. You stare at it, begin willing it to move, willing your body to move. If you’re to survive you need to reach it.

“Come on,” you cry out in frustration after nothing moves. “Concentrate Violet.” You let out a breath as slow as you possibly can; an attempt to get control of your body and you try again.

This time you move your fingers, a dull tapping noise fills your ears, progress but it is not enough. Some finger tapping isn’t going to save you. You try again and then you feel it, pain. Never in your life have you been so grateful to feel pain; it grips your body with a force which in any other situation would be paralyzing. It doesn’t paralyze you though it gives you the strength you need.

With one arm you reach out for the phone, your fingers wrap around it and you push a button, any button because you don’t have the strength to dial. You listen to bleeping of the numbers and wait for the line to connect.

“Hey Violet,” Pete’s voice greets down the line and a sense of relief runs through you.

“Help me.” You cry, “Please help me.”

“Violet?” You can hear the concern in his voice. “Violet?”

“Help me,” You say one more time, the words this time barely louder than a whisper and then you loose consciousness.
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