Mother of None
A young woman of fair skin and wide brown eyes lay on the floor. The cool concrete soaking into her heated skin. Lying on her side, arms wound tightly around her stomach, she cried softly. Oblivious to the burning ache in her hips, she stared, almost as if she could see through the heavy iron door separating her from what she wanted more than life itself. The same two words she kept muttering over and over being the only sound within the room.
“My babies....” she muttered again, the puddle of fluids and blood surrounding her soaking into her bare skin.
Slowly, understanding began to settle over her, and over time, her quiet muttering stopped. Resignation wrote itself on her face. Her babies were never hers to begin with; and she would never see them again.
A couple hours later and her breathing had slowed to a dangerously slow pace before stopping all together, as she eventually gave up.
