The Write Site

I can hear the screams from here. They pierce my ears like rods of ice and chill me to my core. I knew this was coming, we knew this was coming, but nothing could’ve prepared me, not for this. If I could take her place, I would. If I could make her pain go away, I’d do so in an instant. But I can’t. I have to sit here and listen to it. I think I might break. I might shatter into a thousand pieces, far beyond repair.

I have to be strong. I have to be there for her afterwards. I have responsibilities. She’ll need me.

A different cry, quieter, higher pitched, but braking through all others. It sounds like golden light.

“Mr Smith, it’s a girl.”