River’s Tale

She was stunning. The most beautiful girl I had ever seen. It all started in middle school. To be more exact, 6th grade is where I met her. Mikalla and I only started out as friends, but as things usually play out, we became more than friends. Everyone always thought that I was gay because of my lack of wanting to do normal guy stuff. I usually just stuck with my sisters because it was the only time I got to see them.

Nobody, even my mother, knew that they were my sisters. Mikalla understood that and befriended them as well. That caused people to avoid me more because what normal straight dude hangs out with three girls?

When Mikalla and I started dating, she asked me to call her "Mickey" like the mouse. "My mother doesn't like it because it sounds too boyish, and assumes that I don't like it either."

I asked her "Then why not explain to her that you prefer your nickname?" I remember that look she gave me. As if she watched a bird be killed by a mouse trap. I understood then and there that the conversation had to change.

Within our second year of high school, Mickey and I had a baby together. We named him Garrett. He has the eyes, ears, and thick dark brown hair of his mother, but looks like me the rest of the way.

After her second miscarriage during our third year of high school, I found a babysitter for Garrett and bought two tickets for her favorite band. Unfortunately, we never did make it to the concert. There was a drunk driver speeding down the road, causing a chain effect to the point of a Semi-truck holding large logs to lose control. The logs fell loose, and one slammed straight through the windshield of my car, impaling Mickey through her stomach.

I called 911 as fast as I could, trying so hard to hold back the tears. I held on to her hand, as she drew her last breaths. Her last words to me was "Take care of the baby. I love you both more than anything in the world."

By the time the ambulances came, it was too late. She had died right when they got there, and there was nothing they could do to save her.

When I got back from the hospital, my mother, who had been taking care of Garrett for the past two weeks, handed him to me. I could tell Mickey's death was hard on him. He was only 6 months old and was already a huge mommy's boy.

I left the next day to visit Mickey's mother to give my condolences and allow Garrett to visit with his other grandma.

"Oh! My precious child!" Was the first thing that came out of the hag's mouth. "And the dirt smudge too…"

"Nice to see you too," I said sarcastically. "Though I wish it were under better circumstances."

"Quick! Quick! Hand him over! I want to see how lousy of a parent you are…" If you couldn't tell before, this woman has never liked me. Even before Mickey and I started dating. "Well, he doesn't look like he's been missing any feeding times. But that's probably because of your mother."

"No, ma'am. I've been taking care of him on my own. The school even allowed me to take him in with me to-"

"Yeah, yeah. Sure. Come on Retty. Let's go change your diaper."

"That's not necessary. I just changed hi-"

"You probably haven't been changed in hours!" The aggravation from this whole situation was starting to really get to me.

"I am so done with the way you treat me! I get it you're grieving the one you loved, but guess what! I. Loved. Her. Too! And in her last few words, I made a promise to take care of that little boy that I helped create. Can't you just get it through your thick skull that she loved our little family more than she ever loved you." If only I had known what was doing the whole time I was talking. I remember the ending of what she said over that call. "Please hurry! I-I think he's going to kill me and my grandson!"

It was because of that day, that I was never allowed to see my baby again. No matter how much I or my friends begged, no matter how much effort they put in to help me win custody of him, I couldn't get my son back. Though I have visitation rights, the only time I get to see him is by working in the daycare where she leaves him at to go to work. I hope one day he will truly know who I am, and understands what truly happened.