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THIRTY-EIGHT

GIRL

I’ve never cried like this before. We didn’t have a child in our last lives together and now we’ve lost our baby. The moment I saw blood this morning, I knew. I stare at the camera crying, hoping that he’ll see me and come, but he mustn’t be in. He must be at work.

He refuses to speak about his work, but he comes here smelling of the outdoors. It’s too painful for him to talk about because he loves me and all he wants is to take me to the surface, but he doesn’t want to risk anyone finding me because they will tear us apart.

Neither of us wants to lose the other, and I know how hard he worked for us to be together.

I hit my bed over and over again because I want to go out, even though I know I shouldn’t desire any more than I have here. He has provided me with everything I need and he has to work really hard to keep us going like this.

My mind goes back to my baby, to the little life within me that has slipped away.

I took the folic acid and I ate all the salad he gave me. Powerless, that is how I feel. Knowing I had no control makes me feel like this, and all I want to do is see the sky again; I want to feel the breeze on my face and smell freshly cut grass.

Suddenly this capsule is closing in on me, and I gasp.

I want to get out.

We love each other. Why am I still here?

Stop it, stop it, I tell myself. He is doing all this for me. Outside is not like I remember. He told me it wouldn’t be.

In our previous lives, the air was fresh and the fields were green. The harvests were the best. I think I can remember all the things he can. He’s tried to hypnotise me so that I can unlock even more repressed memories. He talks to me soothingly and counts backwards. I feel our connection deeply. And still, we can’t have a baby.

Tears stream down my face. I’m lonely in here and if I had our little baby, I’d be happy. We could read books, lots of books, and we could draw because we have lots of drawing paper.

I wanted to cuddle the little human that looked like us. Maybe our baby would have had my eyes or his. I don’t mind whose.

I hear clunking at the metal door. He saw my pain and he came because he loves me.

As he walks through, I hug him. He grips me back, still not knowing why I’m so upset. Pulling away, he removes his boots and his damp coat. ‘Has something happened?’

I nod and I know I’m about to pull a grotesque crying face, but I can’t help it. I feel as though hope has died as all my tears spill. ‘I lost our baby.’

Again, he hugs me, and then he leads me to the bed after which he makes me a cup of tea in the microwave. He can be the sweetest man sometimes, when he isn’t stressed. When we first met, I didn’t think things would ever be like this, but time has been good for us and now I feel this deep yearning within whenever he leaves me.

He pulls the blankets up to my waist and lies beside me, stroking my hair. Do I see a tear in his eye? I think I do. He wanted this baby as much as me.

I wish Mum was with me. She’d know what to do now. I’d love to hug her. He tells me she’s dead and Dad is too, so he is all I have now. She’d want me to be safe and she’s always with me here, in my heart.

‘Do you need anything?’ He breaks my thoughts.

‘I don’t know. This has never happened to me before. I think my friend’s mum miscarried and she needed a procedure at the hospital.’ The word miscarriage sticks in my throat.

He pulls back slightly and looks into my eyes. ‘You look well. You’re going to be okay – we can’t risk taking you up there for an operation because I’ll lose you. I could never risk losing you. People out there won’t understand our love, and it’s not nice or safe out there, you know that. Whatever you need, I will get it for you.’

I nod, knowing he’s right. Sitting up, I begin to make a list and stop at sanitary towels. Thick ones. The Babygro he brought back one night catches my eye. I lean over him and snatch it from the pull-out table that we used to play chess on. ‘Take this away, please.’ It’s too painful to keep seeing it.

‘Are you sure? We are going to try for another baby, aren’t we?’

I snatch my cupcake scarf and wrap it around me, dabbing my eyes with the end. ‘Yes, but that belonged to our first and I will never forget him or her. Please just take it for now and keep it somewhere safe.’ I place a hand on my empty belly. ‘It was a boy, I know it was.’

I do all I can to keep the waterworks from starting again. I pause, wondering if I should speak my mind, then I think, what the hell, I have lost my baby. Nothing else can hurt as much as this.

‘Can I go outside, only for a minute? I just want to see the grass and the trees.’

‘Sweetheart, there is no grass up there and there are no trees here. It’s barren up there.’

I sob my heart out at the mention of that word, and I hope with all I have that I’ll get another chance to carry a baby.

‘I don’t mind. Just one minute.’ I still don’t know where we are and I can’t ask. He says it doesn’t matter as long as we’re together.

He shakes his head. ‘I can’t let you. I love you too much.’

‘If you loved me, you’d do this for me.’ I begin to beat his chest with my flimsy fists.

He grabs them. ‘What have I told you about arguing with me?’

I can’t breathe. My vision prickles. ‘I want to go out. Let me out.’ I keep hitting and hitting. He gets away from me, grabs his coat and slips his feet into his boots. ‘Wait, don’t go. I’m sorry, I love you. Stay with me.’

Without another word, he leaves me alone. All the lights go off as I cry over our little boy.

His dreams are my dreams.

A glimmer of our past flashes back and I know what I have to do. It’s helped me so far. What I need to do is love him even more, show him he can trust me and then he might let me out. Maybe I haven’t loved him enough.

We need a baby. That is the ultimate proof of love. We need a child we can both love. He is all I have. And regardless of how I feel right now, about him turning the lights off on me, I want to live and I am lucky to be here, safe in the capsule from a world that would judge us. I can ride through this punishment, just like I have all the others.

He’ll come back to me soon. Maybe he’s hurting right now, too. I have been so selfish. The baby wasn’t just mine, it was his too.

I can’t lose him.