The Junkie's Son, Part Ii

II. She didn’t wake up until the next day, at first she didn’t quite knew where she was, through bleary she saw her husband there, he said,”I wasn’t sure you’d make it, my love. I didn’t know if my prayers were enough.” Half-fuzzy, she mumbled,”Where’s the baby?” Mark’s face went slack, he looked down to his feet. “Our son…he…he…he did not make it out, the doctors say he had already died—” He didn’t get the chance to speak anymore, Mark was cut-off by Maureen’s anguished cries, he just shed tears, and stayed there by her side. For the next day she was nothing but numb, spoke so little you’d mistake her for dumb. The first sound she made came during check-out, the same junkie woman stood at the desk, filling out forms besides a thuggish man, the kind who had seen one more than one arrest, she struggled to sign her name there at rest. Hearing annoyed grumbles from the damn thug, Maureen realized then the girl was on drugs! “Jesus Christ, Chrissie, how long does it take to sign some damn forms and give up this brat?” She scribbled her name, lumbered towards the door, something in Maureen broke when she saw that, she just screamed out like a hurt wildcat. The screech took all of the room by surprise, the junkie couple just hurried outside. Mark had to fill out the discharge for her, she was too shattered to think, only wept. They wheeled her out and he retrieved the car, out of the large parking lot then they crept, Maureen in pure agony with each breath. In the coming days she would entertain disturbing thoughts that crept into her brain. Thoughts of anger towards the useless woman, a drug user, and yet her babe had lived, and then as if it were nothing at all to another that child she did give, the next high her only lasting motive. A damn crack-baby allowed to be born, while her wanted son she now had to mourn… CONTINUES IN PART III.