Nympho

This is about two days ago. A significant day. My nephew was born. And seems like something i should share. In the form of a diary, as asked. Or at least if i had a diary...this is what it would be like.

Tossing in my bed. The a/c has been on all night. So every part of the bed, is the cool side of the pillow. Frustrated by the suns cruel antagonism to flood my eyelids. A childish flop on my stomach and I reach for the shorts I took off during the night. I sit up slowly. Inching my way to my computer. I’d rather listen to my play list on Ares, than what’s on the radio.

Jammin’ to Sugarcult, I wrestle my shirt. And in mid wrestle. I hear knocking outside. I open my door partially. Don’t want to expose the exposed. Its my mother at the front door. Like magic the shirt fits over my pregger belly. And I gallop down the stairs. Its about 98 degrees outside. And she’s been knocking for 3 minutes. Before I can open the screen door. It bursts through her mouth like fireworks. “Your little brother just called, she’s in the hospital now. We have to hurry” Stunned and completely excited I run to grab my things to take a quick shower.

Room 475. We walk into a crowd of family. All huddling the bed. Waiting for a miracle to appear. We chat and share stories for 5 hours. And then at the 7th hour. Its time. We all clear out of the room as if the party was in the hallway. Ten minutes pass. And then thirty. At 8:28 a familiar voice breaks the waiting silence. “He’s here! 8:28 pm July 28th 7lbs 4 ounces….” She breathes in breaths that seem to be missed. Crying tears she never had. And covered in what seems to be birth fluid.

Everyone leaps from there seats in more anxiety than before. Forced to wait just a few moments more. My brother comes in the room. And screams out “I’m a father!” Everyone eagerly shook his hand and gave out hugs. Now the march to our new generation child. We all barrel into the hall to room 475. Ringing the newborn bell. Echoing through the hallways to makes its declaration . Turning the handle. Cries shoot out from the room. And there he is. Only Thirty minutes old. His pink body. His cries. I swell up and give in. And I cry with him. It seems like all I can do.

Before we all leave that night. Allowing both mother, father, and newborn to sleep. I hand back my nephew to his mother. And my brother. A very wild ,uncontrollable, rebellious child. Looks down on his son. With eyes I have never seen him wear before. They were softer. Like a calmness came over him. I watched him break from his shell. Into the resonance of who he will be, the father of his son.

A quick smile. Shutting the door behind me.

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I'm a glass child. I am Hannah's regrets. Monster.