Mare Moody - [blank]

"Quiet!" A voice barks. My eyes as still waking up but I begin to see a shadow of a person. I grow nauseous. This is the end. Happiness only lasted so long.

"Keep whimpering and I'll twist it." The voice is cold and hard. A shiver goes through me. I recognize that voice.

I gasp. As soon as the sound of my breath leaves my mouth, the shadow moves to me immediately.

"Look who you woke up." He says with an evil drawl. "How'd you sleep?"

His moves his face close to mine until I can feel his breath on my nose.

"Aren't you going to answer me?" He growls. I can hear Noah still struggling and gasping. He whimpers loudly.

"Shut up!" Kane yells.

My eyes adjust to the darkness and I can see Kane grab towards the object in Noah's leg. It's a knife. My breath becomes unsteady and I can feel the stress enter my body. I am shaking and shivering. He is going to kill me. He takes the knife and moves slowly turns it in its spot. Noah screams out in pain again. I have never heard a scream so loud and high. I want to save him but I know if I move to him then Kane will stab me too. I think of my baby. I can't risk anything.

"If you scream one more time I will twist it deeper." Kane maliciously spits. He turns back to me. He sees my fear and shakes his head. He chuckles lightly.

"At least I brought another knife." He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a retracted knife. He brings it close to my face and flicks it open. The tip of the blade lands only a centimeter from my nose. I can barely breathe. I'm afraid if I do then my face will hit the blade.

"So baby girl," he smoothly repeats, "how'd you sleep?"

He doesn't drop the blade for a second. I can hear Noah gasping and spatting.

"I slept well," I stammer.

He looks at me and laughs.

"Well!" He cackles more. "Oh, you and your proper grammar."

He sits up and crosses his arms, temporarily pulling the knife away from my face.

"I love you so much." He says with a hearty chuckle. I don't respond. How could I? He senses my disapproval and pulls himself back into his previous position. The blade hangs over my cheek this time. I hold my breath. He feels me recede.

"Don't you love me?" He puts the knife closer to my face and feel the blade tip caress my nerves. All of Noah's breathing and moaning goes quiet. I begin to panic more. He could be dead. I risked all of it just to show him my son and now I have caused his demise. I can only blame myself. I continue to hold my breath.

"Tell me you love me!" He shouts at me. My hands defensively move up to my stomach. I hold my bump as if by a primate reflex. Maternal instinct is stronger than any emotion at this moment. He sees me move and pulls the knife away. He studies my stomach.

"Are you pregnant?" He snarls.

The tears begin to fall as it all overwhelms me. I can't tell him. He will hurt the baby. He knows I won't tell him. He moves back over to a silent Noah and flicks the knife. The screaming comes back. When he sees that he is still alive, he pulls the knife out slowly. It drips in blood.

"Tell me." He holds the knife in his hand. The blade aimed at Noah's chest. I don't know how to answer if I say no, he'll kill Noah. If I say yes, he'll kill Noah. Goddamnit. This too much. My mother's philosophy comes to my head and I place Noah's life on it. The truth is the best way out.

"Yes." I say softly. His anger grows and I see him raise up the knife, preparing to plunge it into Noah's heart.

"But it's yours!" I yell quickly.

He stops.

He looks at me closely, trying to decipher whether I am lying or not.

Technically I am not lying because I don't know whether or not he is the father but in this moment, I take it on as the trust so that my facial expression looks real.

He moves closer to me. One blade in either hand. He lifts up his left hand and I feel the blade push against my skin. A shocking heat ripples from the blade. It quickly drags along the surface, the heat rising as it moves across my freckles. It burns me and scream out in pain. Its hotness is accompanied by a piercing throb.

He pulls the knife up and looks at me again.

"I'll be back for the baby."

He flips both knifes shut, stows them in his pocket and gets off of the bed. I can see his eyes in the dark. He looks at me with a terrifying grin. And with that, he flees out of the door, leaving Noah and I in a sea of blood. Noah starts screaming more when the door closes behind him. His cries are ones of desperation. I know he is almost gone.

I get off of the bed with shaky legs. My cheek has gone completely numb and I break down when I stand. I sob and gasp repeatedly. My lungs spasm. My face is overwhelmed with tears. The saline from my tear ducts fills my cheek wound which I am sure looks very gnarled. I walk to the light switch and flick it on. I don't want to see Noah but I have to get the phone. I see it on the night stand next to him. I jumpstart my adrenaline and briskly walk to it. I see his leg in a mangled mess on the bed. The entire duvet is covered in thick, deep red blood. I can barely see his would through the sea but something deep down tells me that he will loss either the leg or his life at this point. I grab the phone quickly and dial 911. The world becomes a blur. My vision grows white and I am forced to the ground. My legs have betrayed me.

"911, what's your emergency."

"We've been stabbed. My eyes are turning whi—

His hand is still cold. I am waiting for the moment when it grows warm. Then I will know that he is still with me. I don't believe the incessant beeping of the monitors. They had monitors on my grandmother and that made no difference.

My leg is shaking. I can't even attempt to drag my eyes down to the large bandage on his leg. I have seen under it. I can't get the vision of my hands inside the bloodied mess. I shudder. I squeeze his hand tightly. It is the only thing helping me in this drab hospital room. The white walls glare back at me and the beeping machines are just annoying. A large window faces my profile, pouring an ever dimming light into the room. I have been sitting here for so long that my coccyx has grown numb. I will sit here until the nurse tells me to leave which hasn't happened yet.

I close my eyes and drain out the beeping. All that replaces it is the pulsing of my blood. I feel it coursing through my veins, faster than and harder than it should.

"Hey," a soft voice breaks through the silence.

I open my eyes and see the only people I want to see right now. Tabitha and Mark stand before me with Margaret tucked under Tabitha's shoulder. My face of pure anxiety relaxes.

"Hi guys," I smile sadly as my eyes settle back on Noah, who sleeps soundly.

"I'm sorry we couldn't get a babysitter," she apologizes. "Daycare is only during week days and we are usually home on weekends."

I chuckle lightly. "It's ok."

She looks at the huge patch I have on my cheek. She gasps and her eyebrows pinch.

"Are you ok?" She asks worried, "Is your son ok?"

"Yeah, we are fine," I say. "But Noah may not be."

The ambience of the room remains. The somber reality of the situation sinks into our bloodstreams.

"Was it Kane?" Tabitha finally speaks. It is the question that everybody wants to know but I don't want to answer.

"Yes…" I quietly admit.

She breathes in sharply and purses her lips. She pulls in all of her self-control. I know she is in turmoil. We were all best friends and now we stand on the bedside of his anger. He almost killed a man and I am still not certain that he didn't.

A doctor walks in and smiles at the crowd. She wears green scrubs and a long white coat. Her hand is trimmed short and glasses loosely hang off of her nose.

"I'm Dr. Grundge," She says, her glasses wobbling with her vowels.