Goodnight Daddy

(Sequel to Are You my Father?)
"The baby's yours Dustin,"
But what happens when Dustin leaves unexpectedly...what do they do then?


3. Chapter 2


   When I got off the train, I instantly ran as far from it as I could, trying in vain to distance myself from the dream I had just had. My breathing was shallow and fast, my eye sight swarming with black dots, my forehead sweaty. My heart pounded in my chest, my hand gripping the fabric of my shirt in order to keep the pounding object in my chest there. Suddenly my legs buckled beneath me and my body hit the head hit the park bench that I was running past. The black dots multiplied as I laid there, staring at the blue sky. The edges of my vision were blurring, and in the very back of my mind I heard someone yelling in French. Hands gripped my shoulders and shook me. Only then did I realize that I had closed my eyes. With effort I opened them again to almost complete darkness. A small, childlike face came into view, the only real thing I could see...or hold onto. I held onto their shoulders back, thinking that they were the only things that could keep me from spinning off the ground. Everything spun around me, causing my head to pound and hurt worse. They yelled in French, something mumbled and blurred that I couldn't quite make sense of. They gave my shoulders one last shake before someone pushed him away from me, stronger hands gripped around my stomach. I was flung over their shoulders, one arm and one leg draped over their shoulders, the rest of my body bouncing on their back while they ran through the streets. I watched the little boy follow him. This person must be their dad. I watched as the small child's cries became one jumbled phrase, becoming almost a chant.

   "Aider! Aider! Aider!" Was chanted into the air over and over. I slowly brought up the hand that was free and rubbed my eyes, trying to keep them open, but it just seemed to spread the blurriness and the black dots. "Aider!" escaped the little boy's mouth over and over. Finally my mind made sense of the small boy's words. He was screaming...'Help!'


   The chunnel finally stopped. I watched out the window as passengers got on and off. I was one of the last ones out. As I stood in the cold french air, a small pack of little boys ran around a park not too far off. I smiled at them and placed a hand on my stomach. In a few years there would be a little kid I would have to take care of, one that could run and play like these boys in front of me. I wondered for the first time if they would be a girl or boy. I really didn't care either way. The thought of running round after a little kid, hearing the tiny little footsteps made me smile. Walking a little farther a sound caught my attention. A small voice was calling something that I didn't quite understand. It sounded familiar, the word I mean, something that I had once heard in the dream where the girl came out of the hospital with the baby. A voice had called out in that dream when the pain hit me from the side. The voice was different though. The one in the dream was deep, gravely, the one that I was hearing now was small and high pitched. Looking in the direction it was coming from, I almost got swept off the path by a large man carrying an unconscious, younger looking teen. The little boy who was crying out something that I didn't understand followed close behind. As they disappeared into the crowd, the face of the unconscious kid clicked in my mind. Dustin. A sound escaped my mouth, sort of a cross between a cry, wail, and scream. My legs suddenly felt like jelly. Something was wrong with him. Why was he being carried?! Why was his head bleeding?! Without thinking, I took off after them. Without knowing what the little boy was saying, I joined in on his cry. It seemed to be getting people's attention well enough. He looked back at me and smiled. I gave a small smile back as we ran together, crying out for something that I didn't understand.


   I felt every step that big man took, every bump of the brick pathways that his feet landed on. Something was different now though... The small, rhythmic voice of the little boy's cry was now interrupted, by a louder, sweeter voice. My brain registered that I knew the voice...but not who it belonged to. Slowly I fought the urge to keep my eyes closed and tried to open them. The bumping feeling of the running made me nauseous, and I fought the urge to throw up. Swallowing a few times, and trying to keep the dizziness from getting worse, I finally got my eyes to open all the way. My vision was full of black dots and red streaks. My mouth tasted like iron...must've been blood. The thought made me want to throw up more, but I swallowed it again. My eyes finally met her. She didn't look at me, just around us as she called out for help. I don't think she realized what she was saying, just that it was getting people's attention. I watched her until the red swept over my vision, blurring with the black. I couldn't fight it anymore, and finally gave way to the darkness that consumed my entire body. My limbs slowly went numb, the dizziness stopped, and I didn't feel like I had to throw up anymore. The darkness was calming, it was welcoming, and to was welcome...


   The darkness was gone, it was no longer there. It was interrupted by a harsh light that filtered through my eye lids. I fluttered them open to see a bright light swinging slightly by a cable that barley held it to the celling. I was in a white room, completely white, nowhere for the darkness to hide. I rolled my eyes, causing the dizziness to come back. Shutting them, I tried to make the darkness come back, but an annoying beeping came into the picture. I groaned in annoyance and opened my eyes once again. The room was still once again, so I tried to sit up. As I sat up and swung my legs over the bed, the white walls, white floor, white everything spun like a carnival ride. The beeping became much faster, much more annoying. I felt a cold liquid shoot into my arm, sleepiness swept over me. I fell back onto the bed/table thing that I was placed on. My feet hung off one end, my shoulders, neck, and head hung off the other edge. My last sight before the darkness came back was a pair of black tennis shoes coming through an open door. I felt hands shift me so I was laid back down the right way on the bed. The wanted blackness came back, and I was out...


   I didn't sleep that night at all. I kept tossing and turning on the small bed that they had loaned me. The big man and the small boy lived here along with a skinny woman with long, tangled, black, wavy hair, and three small little girls that were exact copies of their mother. I had been given the guest room in their small cottage in the middle of town. They were at-home doctors, the kinda people where you could take the hurting, sick, and dying people to their house to try and get treated. Right now Dustin was in their guest house where they treated patients. The dad and their ten year old son was in there right now with him, hoping he would wake soon. My nerves were getting the best of me, even with the mother's and the little girl's attempts to console me, telling me that everything would be ok. Without anything better to do, I found myself pacing the living room while the four girls worked in the kitchen. The girls were triplets at the age of six, but they were apparently old enough to help their mom prepare a huge dinner in their small kitchen. I actually think that this place was supposed to be the guest house, but the patients needed more room then their family, so they let them have the bigger space. I found myself outside in their garden next. Here the small girls had taken me earlier, right after I had woken up. There was a large space where they planted fruits and vegetables, a small flower garden that the sisters tended, and a small deck with a porch swing that looked far too big for the small space. Sitting down on the porch swing, I heard a low voice talking. It was coming from the guest house. I knew that I would be needed back in the house soon since it was getting dark, but I needed to hear what was going on with Dustin. Before I heard more, I looked around the garden area to make sure I was alone. Walking slightly out of sight from the main house, I pressed my ear to the wall of the clinic. The man's gravely voice sounded, loud and clear, as he talked to his younger son. For the sake of a few English speaking patients, they spoke English here. Why the little boy was yelling in French at the park...I didn't know. Their conversation had me hooked in the first few seconds I was listening.

   "He woke up," The dad spoke.

   "I heard it, the heart meter sounded a lot faster,"

   "He was scared, I had to put him back to sleep," The dad sounded exhausted as he spoke.

   "Good. I'll go in and tell them if you want,"

   "No...let's not until he can wake up without being scared. I don't want that British girl to come in here and scare him more,"

   "Why would she scare him?" The little boy sounded scared himself.

   "Didn't you hear him in his sleep? He was saying her name and shaking. He must be scared of her, he must've seen her when we were running back here. We mustn't let her near him,"

   "Ok then. I won't say anything," Small footsteps echoed through the building. "Goodnight Dustin," The small boy spoke. The thought almost broke my heart. Tears threatened to spill as I walked to the front of the building. I didn't know what I was going to do, what I was doing, but my feet carried me there for a reason. I flung the door open and approached the startled looking man and his son that were packing up needles filled with some kind of clear liquid.

   "He's not scared of me. That's something I can promise," My voice sounded hoarse and small when I spoke the words out loud. The pair looked at each other and nodded. They came close to me and each took one of my arms. They led me to a small white room where they sat me on a white bed. I must've looked crazy, barging in like that, my hair a mess, no make up on, my clothes hanging loosely from my body, my face twisted into an expression that was full of pain, grief, and anger, and probably the most crazy, wild look they had ever seen danced in my wide, tired eyes.

   "This is going to help you sleep ok? I know you didn't sleep well last night," The man spoke, I never did learn their names. They probably told me, but I didn't have the state of mine to remember right now. I nodded without knowing what I was doing, and a cold liquid was shot into my arm from one of the needles they were holding. My body went ridged as I fell back onto the bed, then relaxed as soon as my head hit the pillow. And, just like that...I was out.

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...