To You, Iyla, page 25
Zeke kissed her forehead, trying to soothe her as she shook with her weeps. “I’m so sorry,” he kept repeating. “I love you so much. I am going to get out of this mess, fuck Chaz and this club. I’ll leave right now. Nothing matters to me more than you.”
Celeste pulled away from his grasp. “I love you too, Zeke. I never stopped.” She shook her head, the emotion overwhelming her face as she placed a kiss on his lips.
And there it was.
The first smile in months washed over Zeke’s face. I’d forgotten what he’d looked like when he was happy.
“But I’m still so upset with you,” she murmured against his lips. “You let me down, Zeke. You really did.”
Zeke ran his fingers through her hair. “I know, angel…I know. And I’m so sorry.”
“But I want to work through this, Zeke,” she spoke confidently, stopping him before he could continue apologizing. “We need to work through this because…” she paused, biting her lip nervously before dropping her gaze to her stomach, placing a trembling hand on it. “Because I’m—”
“Well, isn’t this beautiful?” A man exited from the other side of the club, taking slow steps towards the two of them. “A reunion like no other.”
I didn’t need to have seen him before to recognize exactly who this man was. How the color completely left Celeste’s face, and the panic crept into her eyes told me everything.
It was Chaz.
“My, my, it’s been some time, Celeste. How are you? How have you been?” He pretended to display any sense of interest in her life. “You look ravishing, as always.”
“I’m going to kill you!” Zeke attempted to lunge forward in a fit of anger.
“Not so fast.” Chaz reached into the back of his pants, pulled out a small handgun and held it directly in front of Zeke, stopping him in place.
Celeste froze. I froze. We were both shaking in fear as the air escaped my lungs—the realization of just how dangerous this situation was made my legs go limp.
“Like I told you, Celeste.” Chaz kissed his teeth, shaking his head. “Quite a temper on this one.” He waved the gun around in the air as if it was nothing. “So…” He took a step towards the two of them. “What’s this about ‘fuck Chaz’ and you’re ‘going to leave here right now’? I thought we were closer than that, Zeke,” he placed a hand on his heart, pretending to be offended. It was like watching a theatre with the sickest, twisted main character. “You, young man, you’re stuck with me. Do you hear that? You aren’t going anywhere.” He cocked the gun and pointed it directly at Zeke’s chest. “Let alone off into the sunset with this stupid fucking woman—”
Zeke charged forward, tackling Chaz to the ground as the gun fell out of his hands and onto the floor.
“Zeke!” Celeste screamed, rushing over to him. “Zeke, stop!” she cried as he continued to pound relentless punches into Chaz’s face. “Stop!” I’d never heard her voice so petrified in my life.
I’d never felt more helpless than I did at that moment. I wanted to run over and help—yet, when I attempted to break free from hiding, I was reminded of what Celeste had told me about Chaz. He was dangerous and irrational, and I feared what greater danger I’d put us all in if I showed up unannounced.
“You’re going to kill him… Zeke, you’re going to kill him!”
Zeke pulled back only when Celeste grabbed hold of his arm and dragged him off, urging him to calm down. “Zeke,” she pleaded. “Stop. He’s not worth it. Let’s just go, okay? Let’s just go before you get into any more trouble.”
His eyes softened as he looked up at her, taking in her words.
“Please!” she begged. “It’s you and me. There’s no one else. It’s only us, remember?”
Zeke fell back into her arms as she steadied him. “It’s only us,” he mumbled. “It’s only us.”
“That’s right,” she agreed. “You’re okay…we’re okay. I love you, alright? We’re going to go, and we’re never going to come back here again. You and me,” she gestured between the two of them. “We’re going to be a family…we’re going to have a—”
Bang.
In his limp state, Chaz had mustered up enough strength, reached towards the gun on his left, picked it up, and loosely fired it.
“No!” I shrieked, the ringing of the gunshot penetrating my eardrums as I watched the bullet graze past Zeke and firmly land in the side of Celeste’s collarbone.
You know that cliche, “the world seemed to move in slow motion”? I never understood how that was possible until I experienced what happened next. I had to watch as Celeste stumbled back, her small frame collapsing to the ground.
“Celeste!” Zeke cried out, catching her at the last second.
Suddenly, my trembling legs and numb hands didn’t matter. Without wasting a second, I broke free from behind the garbage container. It felt like it took me ages to finally reach her side as I pulled off my jacket and placed it on top of her wound.
“Claire?” Zeke looked at me in shock as I met his fearful eyes.
“Apply pressure!” I sputtered, my breaths short. “Don’t let go! Keep holding on firmly!”
He quickly nodded, although I could tell he was questioning where I’d come from and what in the world to do.
Celeste was shaking uncontrollably. She was coughing, wheezing, crying—but doing everything in her power to keep breathing.
“Talk to her,” I demanded frantically, fumbling for my phone to dial 9-1-1. “Talk to her, Zeke!”
Between the operator and Zeke whispering to Celeste in desperation, I heard Chaz rustling movements as he slowly stood up from the ground.
His face was in shambles as he hobbled out of sight, wincing with every step. A part of me wanted to go after him, but I knew he wouldn’t get far. He was hurt, bleeding everywhere, and besides, the only person I needed to dedicate my attention to was Celeste.
I placed my phone to the side as the operator stayed on the line and informed me that the ambulance was coming.
“Celeste!” I brushed away some tears from her cheek. “Hey, it’s me. It’s Claire. Help is on the way, okay? You just need to hold on…” My voice started to break as I looked into her eyes, which were more pained than I’d ever seen. “You’ve just got to hold on, Celeste. Please.”
She continued to wheeze out as the tears fell down my cheeks.
“How bad is it?” I asked Zeke, keeping my eyes on CeCe.
He pulled his hands back ever so slightly. Her once-white dress was now soaked with blood.
“This isn’t working!” The distraught was evident in Zeke’s voice as he removed the jacket and applied direct pressure with his hands. “You’ll be okay, angel,” he continued to reassure her. “Just keep breathing.”
Yet with each passing second, her eyes became more dazed, preoccupied, and distant. She was falling in and out of consciousness.
“Celeste!” I screamed as I shook her face, my voice shaking through my tears. “Listen to me right now,” I demanded. “You’re a fighter. You’ve always been a fighter. Don’t you dare give up on us, do you hear me? Don’t you dare give up!”
Her eyes slightly re-opened at the sound of my cries. “Keep talking to her, Zeke!” I shouted.
It felt like it was taking ages for the ambulance to arrive.
“Just keep her awake…make sure she stays awake!”
Zeke pulled one hand away from her chest and tilted her face up. “Celeste, can you hear me?” he placed his head against her forehead. “I love you. I love you so much,” he whispered through tears. “But you have to stay awake, okay? It’s just like you said. We’re going to get out of this. You’re going to be okay.”
“I…” she began to choke out. “Iy…”
“That’s it,” he encouraged her. “Talk to me, angel.”
“Iyla,” she mumbled, her eyes closing yet again.
“No!” Zeke’s movements became panicked as he shook her awake. “What do you mean, Iyla? What are you trying to tell me?”
Bright lights and sirens approached us as Celeste weakly lifted her hand and placed it over her stomach, an action she’d repeatedly done that night. She was too weak now to even keep her eyes open.
“Stay awake!” Zeke held her onto her face, unnoticing her movement as the paramedics jumped out of the ambulance and rushed to her side.
“Get the stretcher now!” one paramedic shouted, replacing Zeke’s hands with his own.
“You’re going to be okay…” Zeke seemed in a daze as he stumbled back and let the paramedics take over, the distance between the two of them growing, his eyes brimming with tears. “I love you, Celeste.”
The paramedics worked quickly as Celeste was strapped into a gurney and lifted into the ambulance.
“You need to wait here.” An officer placed a hand on Zeke’s chest as he attempted to step in behind her.
“What? No,” he argued as I watched in fear behind him. “Please, let me go with her!”
“You.” The officer pointed over to me. “You can go.”
“Me?” I placed a hand on my chest. “No, I’ll be the one to stay. I’ll tell you everything that happened. He needs to be with her.”
“Go!” Zeke looked at me, causing me to pause in fear. “Now!” he demanded, and just like that, I shook myself out of it and hurried towards the ambulance.
As soon as I hopped in, the doors closed behind me. The sirens turned on as we pulled away, leaving me with nothing more than a final glance out the back window.
There was Zeke, hands cuffed behind his back as he was guided into a cop car.
Copyright Kate Lauren 2023 thewriterkate1@gmail.com
The
Nineteenth Entry
Claire
February 22
“Stay with us, Celeste!” The paramedics instructed as her eyes weakly opened and closed, over and over.
“We’re almost at the hospital. We’re almost there!” I clung to her hand, praying with each breath that she’d hold on and continue to fight.
I couldn’t shake her voice out of my mind.
“Iyla.”
“What do you mean, Iyla?”
Zeke had looked over at me momentarily as if I had known what she was talking about. When I’d stayed silent, he continued to prompt her instead.
“What are you trying to tell me?”
What was she trying to tell him? Tell us? And why did that name sound so familiar to me?
“Don’t you think I’ll look amazing when I’m pregnant?” I stretched my gut out as far as possible in the mirror.
“Are you kidding me right now?” Celeste rolled her eyes. “You just turned eighteen!”
“Yeah, so?” I argued. “A girl can dream, right?”
“Why don’t you focus on studying?” Celeste shook her head in disapproval.
“What do you think of the name Ambert?” I asked, completely disregarding her mom-like response.
“Ambert?” she furrowed her brows. “I’ve never heard of it.”
“It’s interesting, isn’t it? I like it. It’s unique, fun, different.”
“All words that describe you,” she joked. “But yeah, I like it. I bet he’ll be a real lover-boy with a mama like you.”
“Oh, hush.” I started laughing, planting myself beside her. “Don’t act like you’ve never thought about baby names for your future kids.”
“I haven’t,” she protested. “Unlike you, I have other priorities at the minute.” She pointed toward her textbook.
“I feel like you’d like names like Jamie, Jennie, Julia, oh, maybe Justine?” I continued to egg her on.
“Why do they all start with a ‘J’?” she cocked an eyebrow. “And for the record, I don’t like any of those names.”
“So, you do like a name?” I pestered with a grin. “Is it Erin? Ruby? Christina? Stacy? Jill—”
“Oh my gosh, if I tell you one name, will you leave me alone?”
“Yes!” I sat up straight, extending my pinky finger. “I promise.”
“Fine.” She sighed, closing her textbook and interlocking her pinky finger with mine. “It’s Iyla. It’s always been Iyla.”
All of a sudden, everything started to make sense.
Her sudden desire to go to Long Beach.
Her unwillingness to drink.
Her words to Zeke.
Her hand gestures towards her stomach.
And most importantly, the name.
Your name.
Iyla.
“Pregnant,” I mustered out to the paramedics. “She’s pregnant.”
As I announced it, I felt her hand, still clasped in mine, twitch.
“Celeste?” I had to push aside my emotions as I brushed my hand through her hair to calm her. “It’s okay. We know now. You and the baby…you’re both going to be okay. Okay?”
A tear fell down her cheek as we approached the hospital. “Make…make sure,” she weakly spoke, wincing with each word. “Make sure…that she’s okay…take care of her.” Her body began to shake with sobs once again, my heart clenching at the sight. “Promise me, Claire.” Her pinky finger stirred shakily in my hand. “Promise me.”
“I won’t have to, Celeste.” I tried to fight the tears, the fear, and the sense of doom and mortality that flooded our conversation. “You’re going to be okay. You’re going to make it through this. You’re going to live. We’re going to drive back to campus, listening to our music and singing and laughing. It’s going to be okay.”
Despite her shaking frame, she almost seemed at peace as she interlocked our pinkies as one. “Take care of her.” Her voice fell into a whisper with each syllable.
“Alright, watch out!” The paramedics instructed, opening up the back doors and carefully unloading the stretcher as they wheeled her down the corridor.
“Take her straight into operating room three. They’re waiting for her there,” they instructed a few nurses.
“Celeste!” I continued to run alongside them, the gap between us widening more and more by the second. “I will always take care of her!” I shouted as she rushed through the doors of the ICU. “I promise, Celeste. I promise.”
“Ma’am.” A nurse placed a hand on my shoulder. “You need to stay here, okay?”
“No,” I argued. Trying to force my way through the doors as Celeste fell out of sight. “I need to be with her. I need to make sure she’s okay.”
The nurse kept me still in place until I collapsed into her arms and began to sob uncontrollably.
“C’mon…” The nurse guided me into the waiting room. “You’ll be alright, c’mon.”
Seconds turned into minutes. Minutes turned into hours. And hours felt like days as I waited for any updates. But it wasn’t until four hours passed that I finally heard my name called out.
“Miss O’Donnell? Claire O’Donnell?”
I stood up in a rush. “That’s me,” I responded. “That’s me. Is everything okay? Is Celeste, okay?”
“Miss O’Donnell.” The nurse slowed me down. “I can see that you’re indicated as an emergency contact on Miss Kinney’s file.”
“Yes.” I nodded my head. “That’s true.”
A few years prior, Celeste had had her tonsils removed and needed to provide a name should anything have gone wrong. My guess was that she’d never removed me.
“Is everything okay?” The words felt tangled in my mouth, like they didn’t belong there. “What’s going on?”
“Follow me, Miss O’Donnell. The doctor is waiting for you.”
Her lack of a response made my heart sink into my stomach, but I attempted to gulp down the lump forming in my throat as she guided me through the stark white hallways and into a private room.
“Miss O’Donnell,” a doctor greeted me somberly.
“It’s Claire,” I told him as I sat down. “It’s just Claire. Can you tell me if Celeste is okay? When can I see her?”
“Claire…” His voice dropped an octave as he leaned forward in his chair, placing his arms on his knees. “I’m afraid I have some bad news.”
That was it.
“No, no!” I immediately began to sob, shaking my head frantically. “She’s okay!” I insisted through my tears. “Tell me she’s okay!”
“Claire…” He sat up, a pained expression on his face as I got up and started to pace the room. I couldn’t sit still. “She lost a lot of blood. By the time she got to the operating table, she was already undergoing hemorrhagic shock.”
I froze in place, my only movement being my erratic breathing. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, yet simultaneously, I wanted to scream and sob at the top of my lungs. I felt trapped. Physically trapped. What would life be without Celeste? Where would I go without her by my side? Nothing in the world made sense anymore as I listened to the doctor explained it was too late. That she was gone.
“This can’t be possible.” I continued shaking my head, sobbing loudly between my words. “She’s a fighter. She’s always been a fighter!”
“And she was.” The doctor placed a hand on my shoulder, his use of the past tense breaking my heart more than he already had. “She fought until the very last second so that we could safely deliver the baby.”
My hands went numb, partly from the crying and partly from the shock of his words. “The baby?” My voice was hoarse, barely audible. “Iyla. She’s okay? Iyla’s okay?”
“She will be,” he confirmed. “Thanks to you.”
“Thanks to me?”
He guided me to sit down once again, my entire body shaking so hard that there was no way I would’ve been able to stay standing. “Without you informing the paramedics that Celeste was pregnant, we wouldn’t have been able to prepare for the emergency delivery.”
“Emergency delivery? How far along was she?” I asked, forcing my shaking hands to rest in my lap as I hiccupped through my tears. “Celeste doesn’t…didn’t even look pregnant.”
