I rock onto my toes, clicking me heels to the beat of the clock. Tick-tock, and I kept rocking. I grip the back of the waiting room chair, and hear the distant murmurs of concerned onlookers. I haven't slept since she went into surgery. It had been six hours, and still no news. She went into labor fourteen hours ago. The numbers stopped looking promising.
I wasn't stupid, I knew the outcome long before the tall, dark-skinned woman in a long coat came to see me. I knew the words that would come out of her mouth long before they actually came. Kyiera's body hadn't been able to hold out for the seventeen hour stretch. The waiting room, the tired eyes, and the white-knuckled praying hands had all been in vain; Kyiera was no longer with us. The baby was pronounced dead a few hours later. There was nothing they could have done to save either of them.
Kyiera was no longer with us. Although the statement made logical sense, it didn't seem to process in my brain. I could only nod as the woman stood beside me and ran her hand along my shoulder blades. Later they had me sign a formal-looking document. I'm not sure what it said, but I've never had any repercussions from it and I've never had any benefits come out of it.
I spent the next few days of my life wallowing in what I can only describe as misery. Not exactly pain, or agony, it wasn't physical or sharp enough to be such. It was more like an ache, a slow descent into self-pity and misanthropy. I felt the cold of that night settle,and linger deep into my bones, and coax my muscles into a near-eternal rest. My appetite plummeted, I lost weight, and my parents put me into therapy.
Within therapy, I was told that it would be healthy for me to pick up the pieces of the past. The little bits and the trinkets of my dear, late Kyiera were said to be helpful to my recovery. The familiar scents and objects I had associated with Kyiera would open me to finalize the fact that she was not coming back. I told them that I was not in the business of denying reality, though I agreed to rummage through her old belongings if it would get them off of my back.
I was unprepared for many of the things I discovered. Kyiera held not only a beautiful life, but a treacherous past. Her very essence was riddled with secrets that she had taken to her grave, and once I had discovered the fact that there were secrets, I was determined to uncover them. Although the ache continued to linger through my bones, and continues to do so to this day, I was overcome with a newfound determination to finish what I started. To finish what Kyiera started.
I've lived not only my own life, but the life of my friend who had lost her too quickly. She guides me through her past and her future with a voice that is trapped in the past, but only uncovered in the present. All I can find inside of myself is a burning in my chest and a weight upon my mind when it comes to thinking of Kyiera's death. However, when it comes to her life, I am content, because I understand that until I stop breathing and until I stop carrying out her will and her wonder, she will never truly die. I have made this my purpose.
The night she passed, they had told me that Kyiera was no longer with us.
I know now that they had lied.
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