#and 'canceling' metallica | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

erinevrly · 2 years

Text

and if i only could, i’d make a deal with god and get him to swap our places… this one particular line from what used to be one of erin’s favorite songs seems to play on a loop inside her head. once completely meaningless, just another fun, catchy tune to hum and sing along to while she was cooking, cleaning or strolling down the busy streets of los angeles, suddenly means so much to her, describes with an almost painful accuracy everything that she’s been feeling and going through for the past week ten days — if she only could give her life for the one of her baby’s, she would do so without a moment of hesitation. she’d offer her soul to god or sell it to the devil himself, hand it over to anyone who’d be willing to take it and bring her little rose petal back…

ten days. that’s how much time has passed since the moment erin’s entire world crumbled to dust, since the earth stopped turning and the sun stopped rising for her. ten days. that’s how long it’s supposed to take a body to physically recover after a miscarriage. at least that’s what the doctor told her while she was getting discharged from the hospital early in the afternoon on the 30th of october. ten days. in that moment, it seemed an eternity away. ten days. the 8th of november. her 25th birthday. no one is supposed to spend their 25th birthday in bed, alone, numb and hollow. so, so completely hollow on the inside. ten days. everything was supposed to be better in ten days. her body was supposed to magically forget what had happened to it. how naive of her was it to believe she’d be herself again in less than two weeks? after all, it takes around three weeks for a sprained ankle to stop aching, six weeks for a broken arm to heal, most kidney transplant recipients can return to work within eight weeks after the surgery. that’s what the body does, it heals. it always heals in the end. that’s so stupid. how could anyone ever recover from losing a part of themselves, a part of their own heart and soul? she feels betrayed on so many levels, betrayed by everyone who’s been telling her that she’ll be fine in ten days, in a week or two… she’s convinced she’ll never be fine again, she’ll never feel better. it’s cruel of people to expect her to pull herself together, to live her life as if nothing had ever happened. and what life would that be, anyway? what does she have left at this point? an empty house with an even emptier nursery, where not a single cry will ever echo? a condo where a box of onesies, toys and pacifiers awaits her, packed up and ready to be handed to someone who might actually need them? a husband who can’t even look at her anymore?

she wonders if every time these emerald hues take her in, every time he hears her cries, if he’s reminded of what she couldn’t give him, of what she took away from him. probably. would his life be different if she just disappeared from it one day? probably. which is why she’s been thinking about sneaking out in the middle of the night, about leaving him behind without a goodbye, other than maybe a short note on the bedside table. she could always show up on her mother’s porch, with a suitcase in hand, dark circles beneath her eyes, ten pounds lighter and without a single tear left to shed — dehydrated, her body simply unable to produce any more tears. but she’s too weak to do so. she hasn’t left the bed in ten days, other than that little trip she took to malibu to take out her frustration and rage on something when he got arrested. she hasn’t really eaten either. why would she? what for?

axl must hate her. he’ll always hate her. he’ll never forgive her. she just knows it. ( and will she ever forgive him? ) after all, this baby was the one thing that he’d ever truly wanted, the only thing he cared for and loved more than anything in this world, and she failed him. she’s failed them both and so not only does she feel like a terrible mother, but also a pretty terrible wife, too. was there anything she could have done to tip the odds in her baby’s favor? where did she go wrong? was it because she didn’t eat healthy enough? because she sometimes forgot to take her vitamins? because she talked back and wasn’t always a loving, supporting wife? because she wasn’t grateful or happy at first? because she dared to wonder whether it was the right time to start a family? is this how the universe or god or whoever’s up there, pulling all the strings, chooses to punish her? it surely feels this way, like some sort of punishment for some past life’s sins. or maybe someone just knew they weren’t ready, they weren’t right for one another… that’s what her mother said to her the other day when she called her on the phone, it just wasn’t meant to be, my little dove. it’s for the best.

best for whom exactly? was all she wanted to say, but was too numb, too exhausted to utter a word. although she believes the intention might have been to provide some sort of comfort, it surely missed the mark. there really is no need for people to try and add a positive spin on tragic events, sometimes there simply is no silver lining, and erin wishes her mother could at least try to acknowledge and respect the painful emotions that she’s experiencing, without minimizing them, without reminding her how toxic her relationship with the baby’s father had been at times. to say that it’s for the best completely belittles what would have obviously been the best outcome — a healthy baby right here in her arms by the end of april 1991 — and also insults both her and axl by implying they’re unable to properly care for a little human. are they really incapable of creating a loving home for a baby in her mother’s eyes? does she think they’re evil people who don’t deserve to be happy and shouldn’t have children? besides, given all the pain, both emotional and physical, that she’s been experiencing for the past ten days, she simply can’t even begin to fathom how it’s best for her to have a miscarriage. who says stuff like that?

erin’s quickly learned that unfortunately, a lot of people do. her mother isn’t the only one who’s, perhaps by accident or because of the complete lack of empathy, said hurtful things to her. she understands that not many people know what to say when their friend is grieving, especially when they’re grieving the loss of their unborn child, but… why say anything at all then? why toss awkward sentiments and sympathetic remarks around when they could just be there for her. that’s what she truly needs — someone to just be there for her. someone who would sit beside her and hold her, or simply ask, do you want to talk about this? i can’t imagine what you’re going through. and yet her friends have offered her a variety of strange reassurances and statements that were meant to make her feel better, but actually had the opposite effect.

she must have already heard it all by now. from everything happens for a reason, through at least it wasn’t a real baby, a toddler for example, to you’re still young, you’ll have another. it’s bewildering, absolutely bewildering, to her how many ridiculous things people can say to a mourning mother. how do they even come up with these comments? nobody says you’ll have another when someone’s grandmother or father passes away for a reason — because people simply can’t be replaced. what makes anyone think a baby, even an unborn one, is so easily replacable? erin wonders. and maybe she wasn’t that far along, maybe she didn’t make it to the third trimester or even the second, but it was a baby, her baby and she loved them. she’ll always love them. she’ll forever wonder what could have been, what would have been. were they a boy or a girl? with dark curls or straight, strawberry blonde locks? with blue or green eyes? it’s only a handful of questions she’ll never know the answers to… will you try again? you can always adopt, you know? at least, now you have a guardian angel. maybe some people do find comfort in religion, in the idea that god has thought it necessary to punish this woman or that man, but erin’s not one of those people. she never needed an angel to look after her from the heavens above, she wanted a baby. was that really so much to ask for? a family?

however, she can’t bring herself to be truly upset or disappointed in her friends, who have never experienced and hopefully will never experience anything like this, as their insensitivity most likely originates from a great deal of confusion. among all these questions and comments, it’s actually her husband’s words that hurt the most… we’ll try again. NO. what if she doesn’t want another, different baby? what if she only wants the one they’ve already lost? how could he even suggest something like that? how come he’s already thinking about trying again when she’s basically wallowing in a deep, dark ocean of depression, feeling jealous because other parents can at least go to their babies’ graves and she doesn’t have that privilege? how selfish is it of him to think they can just get up and make another one? he’s supposed to be the one person who understands exactly what she’s going through, whose grief is just as great, but it seems to erin that she’s alone in her misery. no one understands what she’s going through, no one truly cares either. everyone, including her husband ( ex-husband?? ), expects her to just move on already, try again, pull herself together and be the fun, outgoing girl that she used to be… and it makes her want to scream.

just like when people say that nothing lasts forever, assure her that every storm has to come to an end, every wind must eventually cease, but the thing is… erin doesn’t want it to be over, doesn’t want to be strong or have to face another day. who does that? what mother carries on with her life once her baby’s gone? how can she pretend like everything’s fine when the memory of her baby on the ultrasound screen, the sound of their heartbeat, still awakens her in the middle of every night? in her dreams, when she actually does manage to fall asleep, the screen always goes black in the end. the room falls silent. and that’s when she wakes up, screaming or sobbing or both. she squeezes her eyes shut repeatedly, rubs her temples and shakes her head, buries her face in her pillows to muffle the desolate sounds that involuntarily continue to fall from her mouth, but no matter what she does, she just can’t escape the image and the words — i’m so sorry, mrs. rose. there’s no heartbeat.

no, no, no.

just the mere thought has her hyperventilating, choking on air as if she were underwater. she forces herself to move, but it feels like her body no longer belongs to her, like each move is a negotiation rather than an order. she sits up in her bed, the heels of her dainty hands pressing into the hollows of her eyes in yet another miserable attempt at numbing the pain as a broken sob tears its way out of her chest. guilt blossoms like heartburn around her chest, but she welcomes it. after all, it’s the only constant in her life right now.

reluctantly, she eventually draws her hands away and forces herself to roll onto her side. it’s three in the morning. throwing the covers back, she sits on the edge of the bed and fumbles open the drawer of her nightstand. a small bottle rolls across the book that axl used to read to her before all this, and she reaches for it, twisting the top and shaking a bunch of small, blue pills into the palm of her hand. her mind already clamoring for the pain relief to come. valium. there’s no way she could get through the night, or day, without it — the little trap door into moments of tranquility, a few hours of peace.

but then she hesitates, curls her hand into a fist and pushes herself up instead. her legs nearly give out even though she can’t weigh more than ninety-five pounds, knees shaking and muscles quivering as she walks across the room. she does so instinctively, moving as if in a trance, automatically. something forces her to do so. once she finds herself in the living room and spots her husband’s silhouette curled up on the couch, she drops the pills and whispers into the darkness, ❝ ax? are you still awake? ❞ she croaks, tucking a few greasy ringlets behind her ear. each trip to the bathroom is a reminder of that night so she refuses to spend more than two minutes in there every day, only dragging herself there when she really, really needs to. she hasn’t showered in ten days, hasn’t brushed her teeth or hair in ten days, hasn’t really changed her clothes either. suddenly, she’s painfully aware of the fact, her brain alert enough to understand how embarrassing it is. ❝ ax? i — i need to use the bathroom. shower. i need to shower and… ❞ and i’m terrified of being in there alone. her throat and lips have gone dry, but a wave of tears floods her eyes. ❝ i don’t think i’ve ever felt so lonely and empty in my life and i… i need you. i really need you. i don’t want to lose you, too. can you, please, come and — and help me and hold me? please. please, help me. i think i’m losing my mind. ❞

@rcsechild

#drabbles.#look :) this could as well be a painful unnecessarily long starter if you're down KJSDF #me: i'll cover something canon :)#also me: *can't stick to canon cause it's too painful* *leaves it open and vague instead*#like maybe in this they don't break up / get a divorce and stay away from each other for decades :|#maybe axl cancels that show on the 9th with metallica guys and baz and stays home with erno #gets her a therapist sooner and they both leave la for a moment to heal and come back stronger #and infertility thing happens but theyre sticking together and eventually have their miracle baby #they could go on that huge uyi tour together :) shoot november rain and stuff :)#IM RAMBLING BUT EVEN IF WE DONT TURN THIS INTO ANYTHING LETS JUST HEADCANON THEY GET A HAPPY ENDING IN THIS UNIVERSE TOO :)

8 notes · View notes