Rewritten (Unwritten Book 2) (2 page)

“Baby, please don’t tell me you were crying,” I say in agony.

Allison’s eyes fill up with tears as she tries to fight it. “I’m sorry.”

I interrupt her, there is no reason she should ever be sorry. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t ever want to hurt you. To see you like this is killing me.”

Allison looks up to the ceiling to try and stop her tears. “Charlie… Ugh, I just…”

I plead, “No, don’t say anything. Please. I can’t hear you say that.”

“No, Charlie, I won’t. I love you. Please don’t think we’re over. That’s not what I was about to say. I just don’t know. It’s all still so new. So complicated,” she laughs, “but we’re used to complicated, right?”

I smile, thankful for her playful attitude. “Yes, we are. I love you, Allison. Please know that. I need to know that we’re ok.”

“Charlie, I told you, we’re ok. Just give me time,” she closes her eyes and I can’t help but wonder if she believes what is coming out of her mouth.

I can’t think like that though so I try to push the idea out of my head, only focusing on her words, not her body language. We sit in silence, staring at each other through the blurry image displayed on our phones. Thousands of miles apart, having no clue what the fuck is going on.

Allison breaks the silence first, “I’m sorry baby, but I have to go. I have to meet the rest of the crew in just a few minutes.”

I take a deep breath, “Ok, I love you.”

“I love you, too. Bye baby,” she blows a kiss into the phone.

I smile, “Till then…”

After unpacking, I lay down on my bed, turning on the TV trying, again, to lose my train of thought in a movie. After watching two movies I finally doze off during the third one around two in the morning.

I’m looking down a tall ladder that I’m halfway crawled up in the middle of the Golden Gate Bridge. I look down to see cars flying by making my vision blurry and my head sway as I become dizzy and disoriented. I look up and see the very top of the tower swaying slightly in the strong breeze as the fog rolls in.

The fog is getting thicker by the second, making my vision of the steps below me even harder to see. I’m panicking. Suddenly terrified of heights. I can’t move up but I can’t move down. I take a deep breath, clinching the poll of the ladder, praying that I’ll make it down and that everything will be ok.

The fog suddenly starts to clear and I see that I’m only two steps away from the bottom and my mind is completely clear. I have no clue what just happened. How in the hell did I get down so fast?

I hear someone calling my name, so I jump down off the ladder and turn around. Once my feet are on the ground, I look up to see the fog completely disappear, showing a bright and sunny day over the Golden Gate Bridge.

Someone calls my name again and I turn quickly as I recognize the voice. Standing a little ways away, I see my mom and dad walking toward me.

She’s carrying something in her arms as she speaks again, “Charlie. Come here. I want to introduce you to your son.”

My chest tightens as I place my hand over my heart, trying to ease the sudden clinching. “Mom? Dad?”

“Yes, Charlie, we’re here. We’re always here. Come here, walk toward us. I want to introduce you to this little angel I have here.”

My whole body trembles out of control as I take a step forward. They are ten steps away and with every step my body becomes more secure with my decision and excited for what I’m about to see. When I reach them, I stand, frozen, staring at my mom.

“Look down baby, meet your son, Lyric.”

I reach out my hand and softly touch the blanket my mom is holding, moving it out of the way to display a beautiful, blue eyed little boy with soft brown hair.

My eyes fill up with tears and warmth fills my body as I look up from the little boy to my mom’s eyes that are filled with tears.

“Do you want to hold your son?”

I take a deep breath, looking back to my son, nodding my head
yes
as I lift my arms, ready to embrace my son. Once he is in my arms, I softly rub his head as Lyric looks up to me, smiling brightly and laughing his baby giggle.

Both my mom and dad smile from ear to ear as they embrace each other, watching me hold my son for the first time.

“He’s beautiful, son,” my dad says, brimming with pride.

“He’s perfect,” my mom cries as dad wraps his arms around her tighter.

I look down to my son again then jump up, awakened from my dream by the sound of a car alarm going off outside my open window. Falling back down on my pillow, I turn to the side as tears start to fall down my face.

Morning arrives and I can’t get my dream out of my mind. But it’s not just the dream, it is the feeling I feel when I think about it. I remember the feeling of holding my son and my heart warms and all of the fear of this entire mess leaves me instantly.

Tilting my head back, I hold my chest, not being able to stop the small smile on my face.

I pick up my phone to Skype Allison to tell her about the dream. It’s four in the afternoon in Paris and I hope Allison isn’t in the middle of a photo shoot.

“Hey baby, I can’t talk right now,” she whispers.

“Real quick, I have to tell you about my dream,” I plead, excitedly.

I can hear Alex yelling in the background, “Allison, where’s my light?”

“Sorry baby, I can’t right now. I’ll call you later, ok?”

She doesn’t wait for my reply and hangs up the phone before I can say anything else. My heart sinks as I click the phone off, lying back in bed before getting up to head to the hospital.

On my way to the hospital I call Diane.

“Charlie?” Diane answers and I can tell she’s surprised to see me calling her.

“Yeah, it’s me. I flew home last night. I’m heading to the hospital now. Is it too much to ask you to meet me there?” I ask completely empty of emotion.

“Of course, I would be happy to meet you there.”

“Thank you,” I hang up, turning up the radio that plays Unwritten Law,
Up All Night
as I sing, trying to free my mind of everything that’s going on.

When I arrive, Diane is already there, waiting for me in the front waiting room. She’s nervously flipping through a magazine, fidgeting and I’m a little shocked to see her so out of sorts. She has always been so calm, poise, royal-like even.

Seeing her, sitting there gnawing on her bottom lip helps me put things in perspective and see her more as just a normal human being which tugs on my heart strings – for only a second though – then my wall goes right back up with her. We wouldn’t be in this mess if she’d just let me quit.

When she finally notices me standing in the doorway, she jumps up, grabs her purse and walks toward me. Once she reaches me I’m glad to see her pause. Just like me, she’s not sure how this little meeting should go.

“Charlie, um, hello.”

Even though I’m annoyed to see her, I’m also thankful that someone is here with me, so I reach out my arm and hug her gently. “Hello, Diane. It’s ok I call you that now right?” I say sarcastically.

Diane laughs, “Very funny, Charlie.” She emphasizes Charlie to make a point.

“Ok then. First name basis it is. So where do we go from here?”

“She’s just down the hall here. Are you sure you are ready to do this?”

I give her a questioning look and shrug my shoulders, not replying to her but gesturing to move forward.

As we walk toward the room Diane asks, “May I ask how Allison is doing?”

I stop and face her. “Look, Diane, I’m sorry she won’t talk to you. I’ve tried but she’s really pissed off. And now this… Can you blame her?”

Diane looks away, ashamed, “No, I guess I can’t.”

We walk into the room and I’m frozen, not able to move from the sight of Jacquelyn lying there, hooked up to machines. I look at Diane and all I see is pain reflecting from her face.

This is bad.

This is crazy.

No, this is just really fucked up.

Finally able to take a deep breath, I walk through the door entering her room.

A nurse is attending to Jacquelyn and offers to get the doctor for us. Once alone, I sit down on the chair in the corner of the room, placing my head in my hands, just trying to focus on breathing because right now, that seems to be the only thing I have any control over.

The doctor walks in and notices me sitting there. Reaching out his hand he questions, “You must be the father?”

All of the blood drains from my face when I hear him say the word father. After a second I reach out my hand to him, “Yes, I’m Charlie.”

“Nice to meet you. I take it Diane has filled you in on our situation?”

“Yes, but please, explain everything to me again. I don’t understand. She’s in a coma but still alive, and she’s pregnant?”

“Ok, well, we have done more tests and research on what we should do with this situation because we were starting to think you weren’t going to show up.”

“Sorry, I was in Paris. I came as soon as I found out,” I interrupt, trying to defend myself so I don’t sound like a total deadbeat. I mean, I am the father after all.

“Yes, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound insensitive. So, as I was saying, there is a thin line between brain dead, a coma, and, in lack of better terms, a vegetable. Sometimes that line can be so thin that it really is a judgment call on how long a family wants to sit and wait to see what happens naturally. The tests we ran have come back inconclusive but we assume that it’s her bodies hormones making it hard to tell what’s actually going on. That being said, the pregnancy adds a completely different level to this equation as well. We have found two cases that are similar to this situation. In both cases the fetus was further along but, so far, this little fetus is showing enormous strength. Surprising all of us really. Normally the fetus would self abort but so far everything is looking good.”

He looks up at me and I can tell it’s only to gauge my reaction. I sit with a blank stare on my face, listening intently.

“So, in one of these cases, they decided to keep the mother alive and once the baby was born, the change in hormones and the natural bodies reaction to birthing the child miraculously brought the mother out of her coma. The other case though, did not have the same luck. Once the baby was born the mother was officially brain dead and died. I know that doesn’t help you much but those are the facts. As I’m sure Diane told you, Mrs. Sanders has no next of kin so it is the hospitals position to pull the plug but as I said, the baby adds a different level to this situation. So, as the father, you have to decide whether to keep her alive for the baby and the 50/50 chance she could come out of it or pull the plug and let her and the baby go.”