Chapter Thirty-Two: "I Can't Do This, Anymore. I Can't."
I GROAN AS I feel movement shift underneath me and flutter open my eyes. I feel my head on something hard, and look down to see another body intertwined with mine.
I look up at the face and see him smiling down at me.
"I'm sorry if I woke you up." He says softly, his voice rough and thick from sleep. Did he just wake up, too?
"It's okay," I whisper. "I'm sorry for falling asleep on you. I didn't mean to."
"No worries, Blue. You seemed tired." He replies.
"I was," I laugh. "I honestly haven't slept that good in almost two weeks. It was nice."
"Well, I'm glad my gorgeous body can be of your service. Just ask if you need anymore help with that." He smirks, and I roll my eyes, slapping his chest. "How are you feeling?" He asks after a few minutes of comfortable silence.
"Better," I say honestly. "Scratches still hurt but I'm sure they're tolerable."
"I need to run out and grab groceries to make dinner," he explains. "Are you okay to be here by yourself?"
"Nobody's here?" I question confusedly. Nobody was here when we got back, either.
"No," he sighs. "Lance came back and picked up Louis to take him and Lucas to my grandmothers. She's a nurse so he decided it'd be better to keep Lucas in her hands and not ours."
I find myself laughing. It's totally reasonable, and Lance made the smart choice. Luckily in all my years of babysitting I've never had to deal with a sick child, but even if I did, I'd be in pain taking care of Lucas. Though, if I didn't bend my back much. . .
"And Liam is staying with one of our friends from school." He finishes. I nod silently, and I shift so Landon can get up. "Man, this thing stiffs up your back like crazy."
I nod again. "Tell me about it."
"I'll need to talk to mom about this, this is ridiculous." He mutters, and I chuckle softly. "Um, I guess someone forgot to do your chores. . . are you okay to do them?"
"Yeah, yeah I can do them." I smile assuringly. He helps me up, and I disappear into the bathroom to change into comfortable clothes. When I come back out, Landon is out of the room so I wobble downstairs. My back and shoulders don't hurt as much as they had earlier, and I think I'm at the point where I'm fine enough to walk by myself without someone helping me.
When I get downstairs, Landon is in the kitchen making a tuna sandwich. "Want one?" He asks.
"Sure." I reply, and sit at the table as he works his magic. When he's done, we're sat at the table, him devouring and me nibbling. It's still hard for me to eat much, since I'm so used to not eating.
"You know, you never eat much." He says casually. "I don't think I've ever seen you finish a meal." I have. At Atticus'. Though it wasn't a true meal, I still count it as having my plate empty.
I shrug, starting to feel a little self-cautious. "I've never really had an appetite, I guess."
"You guess?" He questions. "Most teenagers devour food like it's a hobby."
"I'm not like most teens, then." I shrug again. Please don't press, please don't press.
"And why is that?" He, of course, presses further. "What makes you stand out above all the others?"
Well, let's see, I've been to prison, I'm an ex-drug dealer slash abuser, and I have social issues now. I've also shot a gun, and one that wasn't used for hunting.
"I'm not from here?" I say, more like a question. "Most people I've met I seen are from Canada."
"Canada takes in a lot of immigrants, Blue," he explains.
"I've never met a Mexican immigrant yet." I point out. I place the sandwich down on the plate, and push it away, losing my appetite. "Do you want that? I won't finish it."
"Are you okay?" He asks concerned, and grabs off my barely eaten tuna from the China.
I do a mix between a shrug and nod. "Nothing a little Tylenol can't fix."
"I mean mentally," he deadpans. "Don't lie to me. Don't shut me out."
I look up to see curiosity and pain in his eyes. My heart breaks a little at how he thinks I'm not trusting of him, when in reality he knows more than anyone elseâexcept Ella, but I don't know what all she does. I just know she knows I was in prison before coming here.
"It's too close to home, Landon." I sigh. I'd tell him. I would, but I know absolutely nothing about this boy, and I'm not going to wear my heart on my sleeve like I had before. Like I said, I won't tell him about my past until he tells me why he and his family hold the biggest grudge on a guy who seems so nice and sweet and caring.
"And your medication isn't?" He replies, and as much as I want to take it as sass or annoyance, when I look at him, it's like he's just easily stating something; it bugs the hell out of me.
"I never told you the story behind them." I say.
"You met a guy and got bullied because of it." He points out. "That's why you took the appetite suppressants."
"You think that that's the whole story?" I scoff. "There's more to the painting than the artist lets on, Landon."
"Wait, that's not what happened?"
"No." I say. "No, yes, it happened, but that's literally the beginning of it all. It only went downhill then on."
"You're very mysterious, you know that right?" He asks rhetorically.
I nod. "It's common. That's why I don't have friends."
"You have friends," he states, "Atticus and whoever else is with you. You're with them everyday at school."
"I'd consider them acquaintances." I say.
"Why? You don't like them?"
"It's not that I don't like them," I explain, "I just have a story, and I don't like summarizing."
"You're worried they'll judge you?" He asks. "Or that it'll be too painful?"
"The wounds are still fresh," I say tiredly. "It ended not too long before I came here."
"I can't imagine what you went through," he says softly.
"It is what it is," I laugh. "Now, don't you have groceries to go fetch?"
He chuckles, then gives me a small smile. "I'll be back in a few hours."
"Okay." I smile.
"Hey!" He says suddenly, turning around. "Check on the mares for me?"
"Sure thing."
***
I took about a half hour nap before choosing to do chores.
I change into a black and blue plaid shirt and dark washed skinny jeans. I throw on a pair of rubber boots Ella had lent me until I could go in town to change currency and go shopping.
I throw my hair up into the messiest of messy buns, considering nobody is home and I can do and wear whatever I want freely. When I'm done, I take a dose of my appetite and antidepressants, hoping that if I suppress my crave for food then I can actually eat a full meal tonight, and head downstairs.
I trudge outside towards the barn where the horses are, and head to the area where the pitchforks are. I walk around the side and look down the hallway to see that the hay hasn't fallen down the chute.
Well, that sucks.
I groan and turn around, leaving the giants fork against the wall and walk up the stairs to where the hay is stored. I use my strength to push aside the bale that covers the chute and grab one, tossing it down the hole. After a few are down, I close the hole back up and go downstairs and detach the pieces. I put them all in the stalls when I'm done, and walk to the side of the barn to let the horses in.
I was told that they knew where to go and which stall was theirs, so I go by Landon's words and just open the hatch, letting the animals in. One by one, they all stomp in, and after counting about thirteen horses and about five babies, I close the door, lock it, then prep their water.
When all is done, I stomp my way to where the mares are kept, and look over the ones expecting. There are only two that are due soon, and another that's due in a couple weeks.
Once all the mares are checked and I visit the horse I'm allowed to keep, I make my way out of the barn when I hear an ear shattering screech, and I jump, my eyes wide at the unusual noise. I turn around, and run to where the screeches and whimpering sound off, and I start to panic when I see one of the mares on the ground, a whole bunch of blood pooling beneath her.
I then realize that it's the mare who isn't due for a couple weeks.
I run into her pen and look her over, and I see that she's going into premature labour. I've never done this before, so I start to freak out. I walk up to her to see her breathing laboured and pupils dilated. Is this normal?
Panicking, I sprint back to the house where my phone was left on the counter and punch in the closest McGibbon name in my contacts, while rushing back outside.
Lance doesn't answer, so I move onto Landon, who I don't receive an answer from, either. I try Liam, and hang up, only to see that he calls me back.
"What?" He grunts out. I hear loud music in the background, so I assume he's at a party.
"I need you to come back!" I say into the phone in a rush. "Like now!"
"I'm a little busy, here, Cupcake. Call someone else."
"Liam, please!" I exclaim, running back to the barn. "I called Lance and Landon and none of them answered! I'm freaking out!"
"Why?" He asks, the music growing more distant.
"Your mare is in labour! The one who isn't due for another few weeks!"
"So deliver it."
"I can't," I cry out, tears actually coming out. "I think there's something wrong."
"How?"
"Well first off, it's a premie! Second, she's bleeding all over the place! Her pupils are dilated and her breathing is off and laboured but I don't know if that's normal or not."
"How much blood is there?" He asks.
"I don't know, a lot?" I rush. "I don't know what to do, Liam! Nobody's here and I don't know what to do."
"Okay, calm down."
"No! I'm panicking so bad." I whimper, walking back into her pen where she's still screeching and whimpering.
"I can't come back, Brooklyn, I'm up in Blind River." He says, and I swear more tears fall at his revelation.
"What do I do?!" I scream.
"Check to see how far she is," he says. "Like theâ"
I don't hear him finish.
I notice that the line cut, and I look down to see that it was on his end of the line. I curse and walk up to the mare to stroke her, thinking that it's going to somehow help.
I whimper myself and spend the next God knows how long trying to calm her down and get this damn baby out of her safely.
A while passes, and I start panicking even more when we've made no progress, she's still in pain, and I'm still dumbfounded and clueless on what the hell to do by myself.
I stand there dumbly for a minute, but then make a stupid call out of urgency and fear.
When I don't hear the rings, I shout into the phone, "Can you come over? Please?"
"Ugh, I guess I can," Atticus replies. "What's that noise?"
"Um, I don't know if it's a mare giving premature birth or a mare dying." I say shakily into the phone.
"Premature?" He repeats. "How long premature?"
"A few weeks," I say. "I don't know what to do. . . please."
"I'm sorry, but I don't thinkâ"
"Atticus!" I sob. "I know you have beef with this family but they're not here and I need help! I can't have a mares death on my hands and I don't know what to do!"
He sighs on the other end. "Okay, okay, I'm on my way."
Five minutes later, I hear a vehicle come in the driveway but don't pay attention. As long as she's breathing, I'm okay, right?
Right?
I see something long come out of the mares rear end and I gasp in disgust. It's the baby's leg. The horse screams very loudly in pain, and I sense something wrong. I watch her push and breathe heavily and I notice that the foal is stuck inside her. I gag, but nonetheless, I grab the baby's leg and try to tug on it. It doesn't budge, so I try sticking my hand inside her crotch. Yes, I just did that.
And that's when she splashes blood all over my face and body. Literally.
"Gross!" I gasp. "Uterus blood."
"Brooklyn?" I hear someone shout, and I hear fast footsteps come closer. "Oh my God! Are you okay?"
"Do I look okay?!" I snap at him, trying to free my arm but she's tightening her walls around us. "A horse's vagina just puked blood on me with a little horse inside it! Not to mention it's a bad birth and you ask me if I'm okay?!"
"You're right, I was stupid." He agrees, and comes inside the pen. "She's lost a lot of blood,"
"Do you want to take some off me and shove it back up her ass?" I growl.
"Relax, alright? I'll take it from here." Atticus says calmly. "Take your hand out."
"I'm trying!" I exclaim. "She's got me in a God damn death grip!"
"Okay, okay, let's try calming her down. Rub her,"
"Like, rub her down, or like, her ass?"
He shrugs. "Whatever."
I growl and I start using my cast hand to rub her rear, while Atticus goes up and starts saying things to her. I start feeling pressure along the inside of her uterus, and my eyes widen. "Um, Atticus?"
"Yeah, Sweetheart?"
"There's pressure."
"That's good," he tells me, "it means she's trying to push."
Even though the baby isn't moving.
I hear the sound of an engine pull in, and my breathing hitches. Someone is here. And so is Atticus!
"Shit," I hear him cuss.
"Go," I say, and he turns to me, confused.
"What?" He asks dumbfounded.
"Go," I repeat. "I don't want any trouble."
"Brooklyn, I'm not leaving."
"Atticus one of the boys are here. I don't want any fights."
He gives me a sad look and I try to give him a reassuring smile without opening my mouth, but with the blood all over me and my arm stuck in her hoo-hah, I don't look very assuring.
The horse is still screaming every so often, and now is the moment she does it again. "Atticus! Go!"
"Okay, okay," he grumbles. "I'll check in later."
I nod, and shoo him away to the back of the barn where the other exit is.
"Hello?" I shout out, pulling on my arm. She's still got a tight grip on it, irregardless of having two foal legs sticking out of her.
"Brooklyn?" The voice replies.
"Yeah! Help me!"
More footsteps bounce off the barn and I grow impatient with how long it takes them to reach me when Landon comes into view. His eyes nearly pop out of his head as he stares at me in shock and confusion, but I see some amusement in his eyes as well. "What the hell happened?!"
"Help me, please," I whimper, getting worried more and sensing another panic attack coming. I tug more on my arm to the point where I'm slipping my feet back to get momentum, and yank, in hopes I'll get freed and I can get in fresh air to calm myself down and breathe properly. This may not be my third panic attack in the past hour.
Suddenly her walls loosen when Landon comes into the stall and she sees him, and my arm flies out, the force I had been using throwing me to the ground. Immediately Landon is at my side, helping me up, seeming to not care less that he's getting blood all over himself.
"What happened?" He asks softly, yet rushed. As soon as he helps me up, he wipes the blood out of my eye sockets.
The mare screeches again.
"I can't do this anymore, I can't." I say with shortness of breath. This is really getting to me. I need to get out of here before I pass out.
"It's okay," he says, and turns around, looking at the foal.
"I. . . everything was fine! I did my chore, checked on the pregnant ones, and I swear, I promise everything was fine with her! She was okay. And then when I was about to leave I heard this scream, andâand it was her and I called you and you didn't answer and I freaked out." I start ranting on in a jumbled mess while he walks to the front of her and checks her. "None of you answered until Liam called me back and started to help but then the line went dead and I lost him! I'm so sorry."
"Don't be, Blue." He says. "It's not your fault. Nobody knew she was going to have complications."
"Landon. . ." I whisper, my voice cracking. "I. . . I called Atticus to help me."
"You what?" He asks, looking at me. His face is stoic and his tone clipped, and that scares me.
"I panicked and he lives right down the road. He came and some of it worked! The other leg came out and she was pushing as much as she could and then you came and he left and I'm so sorry." I finished, and he just shakes his head.
"Go inside." He says blankly.
"What?" I ask, this time confusion on my face.
"Go inside and clean yourself up. We'll talk when you're free of blood and not having a panic attack."
I nod, and start walking away. "Landon?" I say, stopping and turning to face him.
He turns around with sad eyes. "Yeah?"
"Are they going to be okay?" I ask in a whisper. "Is the baby going to be okay?"
He sighs, looks at her, then back at me, an even sadder look on her face. "Go shower, Blue."
I see the doubtful look in his eyes and tears start to well up in mine. I distantly nod and do as he says, walking back to the house to shower.
When I finished cleaning myself better than a hospital Operating Room, I sat on the corner of my bed in just a robe and stared out the window. Over an hour and half passed and Landon still hasn't come inside. The fall when my arm got released kind of hurt my scratches, but the hot water from the shower helped the sting.
I can't help but think that this is my fault. If I had known what to do, or what the signs were, then I could have made this easier. Easier on myself, on the baby, and especially the mother. I can't imagine how much pain she must be going through to do this; to be in that much pain for hours. I wasted a good hour easily before calling the boys, and Atticus was over for a half hour before Landon arrived back. So she's been in agony for a good three hours.
I jump to my feet when I hear the door open downstairs, and I don't care that I'm wearing nothing but a thin robe that travels mid thigh when I rush down the stairs.
Is it Landon? One of the others?
I turn the corner, and sigh in relief. He has a blank look on his face, and there's blood all over his clothes, just not as much as there was on me. A frown makes its way on his face, and it's weird seeing him sad. He's always in a content or teasing mood. I like him when he's happy; I don't like seeing him sad and it makes me want to do whatever it takes to make him happy again and in high spirits.
"Hey. . ." I trail off, my voice small. "What happened? Is she okay?"
He sighs, "Yeah, she's okay. She's better; I have her on fluids. She needs to be watched with the amount of blood loss. She was almost at a fatal point."
I nod understandingly. If she's okay, why is he upset? "And the baby?"
His frown deepens. Oh no. Not the baby. I immediately walk up to him and embrace him. I feel him tense, and I realize that my robe has risen higher, but I don't pay attention to it.
He hugs me back, even though he's filthy and I just showered. "I am so, so sorry. I should have watched her better."
I feel him shake his head. "It's not your fault, Blue. The baby was going to die anyway."
"What? Why?"
"He had a defect." He tells me gruffly. "His spine was crooked and was getting worse with each movement the mother made. It was inevitable."
I squeeze him tighter.
We remain in an embrace for what seems like a while, but eventually I pull away from Landon and rub the side of his face where some blood has sputtered.
"You should go shower," I whisper.
"Yeah," he mumbles. "You should, too."
I look down and see my creme coloured robe covered in small blood spots. As long as I didn't get any on my skin or in my hair, then I should be okay, right?
"I'll be fine. It's just a robe." I shrug.
"And your hair, and your legs. . ." He trails off. I internally groan, but nonetheless sigh.
"Well, can't please everyone." I chirp. "I'll probably just use a face cloth or something to preserve water."
"Or we could shower together," he flirts, "saves water and is most definitely satisfying to both of us."
"I don't think so," I chuckle. "Maybe in a perfect world."
"Whoever said this world wasn't perfect?" He continues.
I spin around, my robe whooshing air behind me and I start walking off to the stairs to prep for another short shower. "My world is far from perfect. It probably has more imperfections than it does anything that has the slightest of good quality." I stop, but then add to myself, "It's a world that frankly shouldn't exist."
"What was that last part?" He asks, following.
I shake my head. "Nothing."
He grabs me by the waist suddenly, and I'm spun around, crashing into his hard chest. "Blue, there's ways to make an imperfect world as perfect as it can get," he coos. "My world isn't perfect, either, but there's ways I work around to make it perfect to me. A perfect world would be boring. Life is about fun and adventure; trial and error. A perfect world won't have that, and what's a perfect world without adrenaline?"
I guess he's right. I wouldn't choose a perfect world over my crappy one. As much as my past is what makes my world unworthy of being habitable, I wouldn't change it for perfection. Doing what I did showed me the hard way of getting involved in things that our parents always warned us to stay away from. It showed me that disobeying results in consequences and so does doing things that you know are wrong but do anyway.
If I didn't face the consequences then I'd still probably be doing what put me in jail in the first place.
"Yeah, you're right," I agree. "I guess I just haven't found anything that can make it where I can be happy and not living in remorse and nostalgia."
"Maybe getting shipped here was your chance to look for it." He suggests.
"Or maybe it was a chance for me to find myself and be the girl everyone used to love." I correct.
"Don't be afraid to let anyone in, Brooklyn," he says. "People can help. And a therapist is a good start."
"I don't trust strangers. Especially a new one. It took almost a yearâten months for me to start feeling comfortable around my last one."
"Comfortability is a good thing, but getting the help you need doesn't mean comfort. Take facing your fears for an example. What's something you're scared of?"
Going back to prison. "I have claustrophobia."
"Okay, so say facing that fear, meaning being stuck in. . . our bathroom downstairs, meant you needed to stay in there for hours without having an internal freakout after the first one. You'd be uncomfortable the whole time, right?"
I nod. "I guess?"
"But imagine that meaning that you no longer have as bad a fear like that than you did before."
"Since when are you a therapist?" I tease, and I rolls his eyes, nudging his shoulder with mine before walking off.
"Never. I'm just good at giving advice." He turns around and winks.
"Good." I smile to myself. "Because you know stuff I don't want the therapist to know."
"Whenever you want to talk, I'm all ears." He grins, and disappears into the bathroom that he and his brothers share. Poor boys, they have to share the room with four other pigs.
Hopefully I don't regret sharing my secret when Landon finally finds out the truth.
And hopefully he won't think any differently of me.