I get panic and the hairs on my body prickle with nervousness when I think about my child.
I wouldn’t be afraid if it happened before. The worst of rolling down the stairs is just to break legs or
arms, without threat on my life. But now the situation is different. I’m having a baby and I can’t allow
this to happen.
“Whitney, don’t be impulsive.” I turn my head around and try to calm her down.
But I find her eyes are red, like fierce burning fire. She is mentally ill. I really feel afraid that she would
have an attack at the moment.
She originally intended to stay with Frances so she told him her pregnancy. But it goes the other way
around. Frances actually wants to send her away. No wonder she would go mad.
Lawrence continuously shakes his head at Whitney downstairs, “Whitney, stop this craziness, come
down and go with me.”
“I’ve told you that I’m not going! Don’t force me or I’ll push her down.”
As she says, she gives me a gentle push but she doesn’t loosen her hands on me.
She’s negotiating with them now, not really trying to hurt me.
I’m frightened into cold sweat, trying to protect my belly from harm, but I’m worried that Frances will get
suspicious about my obvious action.
“Whitney, if you really push her down, you will lose Frances forever. You should think about the
consequences.” Lawrence continues to persuade her, expecting to stop her.
Frances, who has been silent for a long time, finally utters slowly.
“Whitney, you could try it to see what would happen if you pushed her down.”
Scared by his cold voice, Whitney loosens her hands a little, and I take this chance to hold onto the
handrail of the stairs and quickly run downstairs.
But I didn’t expect that her hands are still on my clothes, so she is brought down as I run.
With a sharp scream, Whitney rolls down the stairs.
Finally, she stops at Lawrence’s feet.
“Child, my child!”
She splutters, in an extremely weak voice.
Blood spreads out on her white dress, an impressive and shocking sight.
I’m totally shocked and do not know what to do.
It once occurred to me that she may lie to be pregnant because she didn’t show any signs of
pregnancy. For instance, every day she wears high heels and has a delicate makeup, she never has
morning sickness as well.
But the blood on her dress makes me feel how biased and narrow-minded I was.
Having my own baby now, I can exactly feel her pain and helplessness.
I would have been more desperate if I had been the one falling downstairs instead of her.
Lawrence squats down and scoops her up in his arms carefully, comforting her gently, “It’s okay, don’t
be afraid. I’m with you. The baby will be fine.”
Apparently, Lawrence cares Whitney a lot. He holds her like holding the most precious treasure in the
world.
Lawrence rushes outside with Whitney in his arms. She grabs his arms tightly, as if he is her last hope.
Frances sits beside Whitney for company.
Out of guilt, I also go along with them.
Lawrence starts the car and drives to the hospital in a rush.
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