Dead. Dead. Dead. You love babies. They're adorable. You had babies when you turned twenty-six. Twins, the nurse had told you. They were cute as a button, both of them. Unfortunately, they didn't survive. You still remember the nurse's words. How can you forget? No mother can ever forget, even if her child is long dead. "I'm sorry," she had said. "They couldn't make it. They are dead."
Your eyes snap open and you see a black ceiling. Confused, you get up because you had painted yours a bright blue, just days ago. You throw away the covers and get off the bed. You are heading towards the bathroom when suddenly, you shiver. You reminisce about earlier: maybe you're shivering because of it. You dismiss the thought and grab your clothes. You shiver again. Defeated, you change into a pair of olive overalls, grab your car keys, and leave your home. But then, yesterday's headlines start to play and then replay in your mind. "A severe blizzard is about to strike. Don't leave your place. I repeat, a severe blizzard is about to strike. DO NOT leave your place." Paying no heed to the given warnings, you kickstart the engine and drive away.
You arrive at the store. It's Carter's, your favorite. That one store whom you had almost robbed of the baby clothes when you had got the news. You had bought various baby products: pairs of beanies, mittens, bibs, footies, powders, lotions and so much more. And then, there had been a different clothing collection for the two of them. There had been floral frocks for your baby girl. While you had bought rompers, some cute shorts, and t-shirts for your baby boy. You had even named them beforehand. Caleb, your husband had picked out the name 'Isaac' for your boy and you had picked out 'Mia,' for your baby girl. But, all of the hard work had gone in vain. You hear something drop from behind you which makes you realize that you've been standing in the same position for the past twenty minutes. The jeans romper in your hand is rumpled and damp. Damp from your tears, perhaps. You move in feverish haste, anxious to get going. You turn around expecting to see some angry worker staring daggers at you for spoiling their spick and span arrangement. But to your astonishment, there is no worker. Instead of the worker, there in front of you, holding a rainbow rattle, is the most beautiful baby you've ever seen.
Your eyes fill up with tears as you pick the baby up. Her outfit indicates that she is a girl. She's dressed in a pink tank top and jeans shorts. Her hair is a mass of blonde curls falling on her forehead. She giggles and you feel your chest tighten. Oh, if and only if you'd got to hear a giggle of your babies. You get distracted when you feel her holding your index finger with a firm grasp. Skin folds are being formed all over her hands, her bare thighs and her,... You get so engrossed in the baby that you totally forget to look for her mother or her father. "Mama..." the girl begins. She looks no more than a one-year-old. The very same age that your babies would've been, had they survived. You feel a lump beginning to form in your throat and your vision is blurred by the tears forming around the corner of your eyes. Despite your heart saying a NO, you jerk away from the cruel memory and march down the aisle, ready to hand-over the baby to her parents.
Your first instinct is to look for her parents near the cash-counter but a sudden realization comes into your mind. There had been a forecast of a blizzard. No one was to leave their house up until...well, up until it ended. As a reflex action, your head turns right and then left. Your eyes search frantically for the baby's parents. "Mama....dada." you feel stabbed in the chest again. Not with the bitter memory this time but with a panic arising within you. You start imagining the baby's panicked mother. You imagine her to be blonde, just like the baby. You imagine her face to be damp and her eyes to be puffy and red, all from the crying. You imagine her running up and down, searching high and low for her bundle of joy. Thus, you once again set off on the mission to find her but.....to no avail.
You take out your phone to call Caleb. But then, you put it back with a sudden realization. Caleb is dead. Well, not literally but his 'new wife' had told you never to call him again. Hadn't she? She had strictly told you to assume him to be dead. Oh, the loss of your babies made you lose Caleb too. There are big fat tears on the corner of your eyes. You're on the verge of crying and old memories: memories about Caleb and your daughter and your son, bring them rolling down your cheeks only to land on the baby's plump lips. Confused, she looks up and smiles, revealing a set of newly-grown teeth. Your heart melts and your mind eases up a bit. Thus, you smile back.
Your second instinct is to make the worker on the cash-counter make an announcement but then again, there is no worker around you. You quickly go through the list of actions you would take, but there isn't any left.
The dark, selfish side of you takes over and you start to imagine things you shouldn't have. You start to think of the things which might prove to be trouble for you in the future. You have no children. And, this child has lost her parents. Well, in some way she has. You can't find her parents, knocking every other door in the entire city or maybe the country. Your heart picks up it's pace which makes you realize that this baby girl is just right for you. You have no time as soon, there will be cops here. Then not only will you be questioned for having an unknown baby, but you will also be questioned for not abiding by the rules and leaving your house in such harsh weather. You quickly grab the baby and some essential products like the instant formula milk, some biscuits, and hurriedly get into your car. You make the baby sit in the backseat and tie a seatbelt around her, making sure its clasped properly. While doing so, you hear sirens. The cops have arrived. Panicking, you get into your car's driving seat and leave the site, lest you get arrested for 'stealing a baby.'
You drive the car a little above the usual pace and then, instead of taking a turn to your right, you take a turn to your left and get out of the city. You turn on the music. A soft, pleasant one. It is time to celebrate. Because, this baby girl is yours now and you may keep her, forever. "Mia...?" you call out and to your surprise, the girl looks up and into the rearview mirror. You grin because it looks like you just got one of your children back!