One Way Out

*Trigger warning*

The one thing in life that amazes many, is life itself. How one can have the ability to grow something so precious; a miracle. The heartwarming sensation of feeling your very own skin and blood becoming one. An overbearing love you have for your child.

Cherryl Conway is twenty-five years young. She married once when she was eighteen in The Church, to a young man named, Charles Brooke. Cherryl and Charles felt like they were born to love each other. They followed the Commandments by God by staying abstinent till marriage, being married and sealed in the Temple by God, and attending church. Now only one thing was missing... A baby of their own.

After five years of trying to conceive, the couple had no luck. Despair, Sadness, fear all ached through Cherryl every waking day. She felt as if she had let down Charles and their family that hadn't even begun. Tensions arose between the pair. Charles grew more distant in their loving relationship and became more aggressive and abusive. Having a baby wasn't a desire of a family anymore, but more of a demand from him to her. Charles needed that baby, he could care less about his wife. Cherryl knew she was trying her best that she could in terms of trying to conceive. She knew in her heart that she could not follow through and have a baby with Charles anymore. She refused to make a family just so it could be broken. 

It was a starry night, a cooling breeze flowed through her ruby red hair, her eyes gazing at the moon while thinking about her very next move. With only a week's worth of clothes and the money from her deceased parents, she left her house of horrors, the town, and Charles. She walked up to the bus station, “where to hun?”, mumbles the ticket seller. Cherryl lowers her eyes and says, “ the farthest destination you've got on any of those tickets.”. On the bus ride to her unknown destination, she prayed to God, “Dear heavenly Father, please forgive me... Forgive me for running away from my husband... I ask that you will guide me to happiness... guide me to have a real loving family. Amen.”

After two years, seven months, fifteen days, she remarried. Cherryl fell in love with the small-town hero, family man, and hopeless romantic; Steven young. They met during a town fair where Cherryl was working. And they instantly fell in love. He cherished her, loved her inside and out despite her scars. Steven knew about her past, and he knew she was emotionally wounded; so he vowed to be the best husband to her and one day a father. They didn't have a traditional wedding. They tied the knot in a small barn with Steven's mother, sister, and some town folk. The only thing that mattered to them was each other. 

Steven was driving down a rocky dirt road straight home from work. From a distance, he sees someone on the side of the road trying to flag him down. As he got closer he saw the man needed car assistance, so he pulled over his truck to help. “Thank you so much for stopping to help, there ain't no cars that have passed by here”, said the man. 

“No problem, I'm glad to help someone in need, especially out in the middle of nowhere.” 

“..I didn't catch your name.”

“Steven, Steven young. ‘Nd yours?”

“Charles..” He stared deep in his eyes. “Charles Brooke.”

Two little pink lines slowly appear. “Thank you, thank you, God, for finally giving me my blessing!”, Cherryl cried with a bright smile. Her gratitude filled her heart and overflowed with warmth and love. She was going to have a family she always wanted. She was going to be a mother. She rushes to her phone debating whether or not to call Steven and tell him or to keep it a surprise for when he gets home. She picks up the phone and instead it rings. “Hello? .. yes this is she .. what? .. there must've been a mistake... I .. I understand.”. Cherryl had just gotten the worst call of her life. Her heart dropped and broke into a million pieces. Her husband was murdered. Her mind was spinning. It was as if she had thoughts running through and out of her head, but in reality, it was just blank. She’d lost the one person who’d given her true happiness and hope for a family. Now she was all alone. Despair crawled through her tears as they strolled down her face. “Who did it! Who murdered my sweet Steven? .. oh my God.” She dropped the phone while her face stunned to a pale. “He’s finally come after me”, she mutters. Cherryl had to move wisely. She was going to have a baby on her own. She had to leave yet again. 

Cherryl sat in a booth at a truck stop diner. Her stomach barely fitting in her seat, bumping into the table every breath she takes. She was now eight months pregnant, and still alone. She had been on the run the whole time grieving, fearing for her and her baby’s life. She had no money, no prenatal care, no home. Cherryl felt little hope. Her life was falling apart, there was no escape. As she sat still in the booth, she stared at the steam from her hot lemon tea and admired how it disappeared into the air. She too wanted to disappear into the air. From behind she hears the bell ring from the opening door. Footsteps follow along after. They slowly crept up to Cherryl’s booth. This frightened her, so much so that she couldn't control her breathing. She clenched her fists so tight there were little crescent moons in her palms from her fingernails. Cherryl sprung up from the table and started running. She didn't even know where to. Once she reached outside she was out of breath struggling to breathe. She was in the middle of two trucks coming from different directions honking at her. She suddenly felt cramping in her lower abdomen. She tried to yell for help to the drivers in either of the trucks coming after her, but she still couldn't breathe. Then to Cherryl, it all went blank.

Her eyes were closed shut, almost feeling like they have been sealed for days. She breathed steadily as she smelt the chilled clean air. “Where am I ?”, thought Cherryl. She slowly peered open her eyes and saw a light and a blue curtain. She looked around more steadily and saw she was hooked up to an IV. “I'm in the hospital, why?!”, shrieked Cherryl. A nurse swiftly came into the room to greet her patient. 

“What's going on? What happened?”, Cherryl asked. “Is my baby okay?”.

“Mrs. Young, what I'm about to inform you is rather a fragile subject”

“Okay just tell me what the hell is going on, why am I here?”

The nurse’s face dropped. “You had a stillbirth... Your blood pressure was extremely high when you were brought in.. we tried our best we cou-”

“Thank you that's all I needed to know. You can leave now.”, Cherryl starred out the window.

The nurse left the room and closed the door behind her.

There was nothing Cherryl could even remotely try to do anymore. She felt hopeless over her whole life. She couldn't even bring back time. She felt that she had failed as a mother, a wife, and a daughter of God. She was so angry at herself that her one chance at being happy was taken, ripped from her very own womb. She couldn't bear to live with the guilt of the death of her husband, and the death of her very own child. There was nothing left to live for. Cherryl looked around the room and found a box of hazardous used needles and syringes. She got up from her bed and walked over to grab one at random. Her legs shook as she took her steps. She filled the air in her syringe, and slowly added it to her IV. She then laid back down on her hospital bed she thought to herself of how much of a powerless coward she felt. And that this was the only way out. Cherryl Young closed her eyes, and they never opened again.