A Life Cut Short

Ashley's eyes had lost their focus, her gaze fixed on the tiny, lifeless body in her hands. The warm liquid that had once flowed through its tiny veins now pooled on the cold bathroom floor, mixing with her own blood to create a grotesque, crimson mess. The silence was oppressive, punctuated only by the sound of her own ragged breathing and the faint hum of the bathroom exhaust fan. Time seemed to have lost all meaning. She had no concept of how long she had been lying there, staring blankly at the small form in her hands. It could have been minutes, hours, or even days. The world had narrowed to a single point, and that point was the lifeless little body that had once held such promise. Ashley's mind was numb, unable to process the horror of what had happened. She had known that there was a risk, of course. The doctor had warned her, but she had never truly believed it would come to this. Her baby, her beautiful, precious baby, was gone. She became aware of a faint noise, a muffled sound that seemed to be coming from outside the bathroom. It was Gerald, she realized, her heart sinking. He must have heard her scream, or maybe he had woken up and found her missing from bed. She didn't care. She just lay there, frozen, as the sound of his footsteps grew louder. The bathroom door creaked open, and Gerald's face appeared, bleary-eyed and confused. "Ashley, what's going on?" he slurred, his voice thick with sleep and booze. And then he saw her, lying on the floor, surrounded by blood, holding the tiny body in her hands. For a moment, he just stared, his expression unreadable. And then, like a switch had been flipped, his face contorted in shock and disgust. "Oh my god," he whispered, stumbling backward into the hallway. Ashley didn't react. She just lay there, still staring blankly at the lifeless body in her hands, as Gerald's voice grew fainter, echoing down the hallway as he stumbled toward the phone, no doubt to call for help. But it was too late. Help was too late. Her baby was gone, and nothing would ever be the same again.