Categories > Celebrities > Guns n' Roses > Ain't It Fun
June 6, 1962
To anyone who just walked in on the birthing room in the Sydney Hospital in Australia, he didn’t belong there. He was only sixteen, still a child himself and he was about to be a father. He was scared shitless at the thought of having to be a good role model, of having to give up everything he knew about life. All the parties, the girls, the drugs, and, worst of all, the alcohol. Oh how he was going to miss the alcohol.
Emily’s convulsions quickened, and although it had been about an hour since they gave her the epidural, Bon could see she was still in a lot of pain. He wanted to comfort her, but he was slightly afraid if he touched her he would hurt her or she would hurt him. The nurse came in for about the hundredth time and looked to see how dilated Emily was.
She smiled. “Ok, I think we’re ready. I’ll go get the doctor and we’ll get this baby out.”
“About fucking time!” Emily sighed, placing the back of her hand on her forehead.
Bon wrinkled his nose. Why her? Why did she have to get pregnant? It couldn’t be one of all the nice girls he had fucked. No, it had to be the bitchiest one out there, the one Bon secretly hated and had only fucked because he was twisted at the time. Yet another reason to stop the bullshit.
The doctor finally came in, his hands protected by a clean pair of latex gloves. “Are you ready Ms. Engle?”
“No, I want to keep going through labor. Yes I’m ready you idiot!”
Bon sighed but went to stand by Emily’s side. She didn’t even seem to notice him. She hunched over slightly in pain and grunted from the agony. She let her head fall back on the pillow for a moment and turned her head to face Bon. “I’m going to fucking kill you. It’s your fault I’m going through this shit.”
Any other day Bon would have fought her on this. They’d had that argument time and time again and every time it ended in one of them walking away pissed off. There was no walking away today so Bon didn’t see the point in starting anything up.
“Now when I say ‘now’, I’ll need you to push as hard as you can. If you push hard enough we can probably get the baby out of there in only a couple of tries.”
“Ok¸ whatever! Just tell me now!”
“Ready? 1, 2, 3 NOW!”
Emily bit her lip and pushed, sweat pouring down her face. She grasped for Bon’s hand and squeezed it so tightly Bon couldn’t feel it anymore. She stopped pushing for a second and fell back on the pillow, trying to catch her breath.
“That was great! The head's crowning!” The doctor called.
“1, 2, 3 NOW!”
Emily pushed again, partially screaming. Bon closed his eyes. Whoever said childbirth was a beautiful thing to watch had one seriously fucked up mind.
Crying echoed across the room, a very high pitched wailing that made Bon’s ears ring. He opened his eyes again to see a little, red, sea-monkey looking thing being held in the doctor’s arm like a football.
The doctor looked at Emily, a mandatory smile spread across his face. “Congratulations Ms. Engle. It’s a girl.”
Bon looked at Emily. She had her eyebrows raised and didn’t seem to care in the least. “Great, now I can I put it up for adoption?”
Bon glared at her. “You’re not putting my daughter up for adoption.”
Emily smirked. “You’re daughter? That’s funny. You didn’t carry that thing for 9 months. You didn’t have to lose your perfect figure to that animal. If you want her, you can have her,” Emily dismissed with a wave of her hand.
The nurse had finally cleaned up the baby and had her wrapped in a security blanket. She went to hand her to Emily, but changed her mind when she saw the icy look Emily gave her. She lifted the baby to Bon. “Would you like to hold your daughter?”
He didn’t say anything, only took the warm bundle from the nurse. He was apprehensive to look at her face. What if she looked just like Emily? He didn’t think he could handle seeing that monster’s face every day for the rest of his life.
He was glad he did though. There were almost no traces of Emily’s traits on his daughter's face. She was beautiful. There was a light cover of brown hair on her head and her face shape was very much his own. She rubbed her hands uncontrollably over her face and opened her eyes if only for a second to see the world.
It took only that single second for Bon to see his daughter’s stunning blue eyes. Where she had gotten them, he wasn’t sure, but they suited her well.
“Do you have a name in mind?” the nurse inquired, standing around Bon like an anxious bird.
He thought about it for a moment. It would have to be something that was unusual, but not too out there. He had some sense that she was not going to be a girlie-girl, especially with him as a father. Finally, he came up with the perfect name.
“Riley. Riley Michelle Scott.”
About 16,000 miles around the world in Lafayette, Indiana, another young family was celebrating, or at least, they should have been. A young mother was holding her baby boy. He had just turned 4 months exactly. His father came bursting into the house, drunk as always. The town sham. Yup that pretty much described William Rose.
He glared at his girlfriend. She looked back her baby’s face. If only he didn’t look so much like his father. She would have been happy then. But of course, he had to inherit his father’s red hair and blue-green eyes. Nothing about him was remotely similar to her.
“Where’s my food?” her boyfriend asked harshly.
“It’s on the counter,” she whispered back, too afraid to look him in the eye.
He stormed at her, squatted down to look in her face, and clenched his teeth. “Did I ask you to put my food on the counter?”
“N-no.”
“Did I say I was going to get it?”
“No.”
“Well, I’m hungry. Now why don’t you go in there and get my food?”
“I’m, I’m holding the baby.”
“What was that? Did you just give me an excuse?!”
“No! But, but I’m holding the baby!”
“Fuck the baby! Get in there and heat my food up!”
“William please,” she pleaded, pulling her baby in closer to her chest. “Please…”
“Give him here!”
“No.”
“Don’t you talk back to me you bitch! Give him to me!”
“No!” She kicked him in the stomach. While he was keeled over in pain she made a dash for it. She scrambled up the stairs, went to her room, locked the door, and hid in her closet. She sobbed the entire time, not once letting her baby away from her heart. “Oh my poor William. My poor William Rose,” she crooned to her son. “I promise, you will have a better life than this.”
To anyone who just walked in on the birthing room in the Sydney Hospital in Australia, he didn’t belong there. He was only sixteen, still a child himself and he was about to be a father. He was scared shitless at the thought of having to be a good role model, of having to give up everything he knew about life. All the parties, the girls, the drugs, and, worst of all, the alcohol. Oh how he was going to miss the alcohol.
Emily’s convulsions quickened, and although it had been about an hour since they gave her the epidural, Bon could see she was still in a lot of pain. He wanted to comfort her, but he was slightly afraid if he touched her he would hurt her or she would hurt him. The nurse came in for about the hundredth time and looked to see how dilated Emily was.
She smiled. “Ok, I think we’re ready. I’ll go get the doctor and we’ll get this baby out.”
“About fucking time!” Emily sighed, placing the back of her hand on her forehead.
Bon wrinkled his nose. Why her? Why did she have to get pregnant? It couldn’t be one of all the nice girls he had fucked. No, it had to be the bitchiest one out there, the one Bon secretly hated and had only fucked because he was twisted at the time. Yet another reason to stop the bullshit.
The doctor finally came in, his hands protected by a clean pair of latex gloves. “Are you ready Ms. Engle?”
“No, I want to keep going through labor. Yes I’m ready you idiot!”
Bon sighed but went to stand by Emily’s side. She didn’t even seem to notice him. She hunched over slightly in pain and grunted from the agony. She let her head fall back on the pillow for a moment and turned her head to face Bon. “I’m going to fucking kill you. It’s your fault I’m going through this shit.”
Any other day Bon would have fought her on this. They’d had that argument time and time again and every time it ended in one of them walking away pissed off. There was no walking away today so Bon didn’t see the point in starting anything up.
“Now when I say ‘now’, I’ll need you to push as hard as you can. If you push hard enough we can probably get the baby out of there in only a couple of tries.”
“Ok¸ whatever! Just tell me now!”
“Ready? 1, 2, 3 NOW!”
Emily bit her lip and pushed, sweat pouring down her face. She grasped for Bon’s hand and squeezed it so tightly Bon couldn’t feel it anymore. She stopped pushing for a second and fell back on the pillow, trying to catch her breath.
“That was great! The head's crowning!” The doctor called.
“1, 2, 3 NOW!”
Emily pushed again, partially screaming. Bon closed his eyes. Whoever said childbirth was a beautiful thing to watch had one seriously fucked up mind.
Crying echoed across the room, a very high pitched wailing that made Bon’s ears ring. He opened his eyes again to see a little, red, sea-monkey looking thing being held in the doctor’s arm like a football.
The doctor looked at Emily, a mandatory smile spread across his face. “Congratulations Ms. Engle. It’s a girl.”
Bon looked at Emily. She had her eyebrows raised and didn’t seem to care in the least. “Great, now I can I put it up for adoption?”
Bon glared at her. “You’re not putting my daughter up for adoption.”
Emily smirked. “You’re daughter? That’s funny. You didn’t carry that thing for 9 months. You didn’t have to lose your perfect figure to that animal. If you want her, you can have her,” Emily dismissed with a wave of her hand.
The nurse had finally cleaned up the baby and had her wrapped in a security blanket. She went to hand her to Emily, but changed her mind when she saw the icy look Emily gave her. She lifted the baby to Bon. “Would you like to hold your daughter?”
He didn’t say anything, only took the warm bundle from the nurse. He was apprehensive to look at her face. What if she looked just like Emily? He didn’t think he could handle seeing that monster’s face every day for the rest of his life.
He was glad he did though. There were almost no traces of Emily’s traits on his daughter's face. She was beautiful. There was a light cover of brown hair on her head and her face shape was very much his own. She rubbed her hands uncontrollably over her face and opened her eyes if only for a second to see the world.
It took only that single second for Bon to see his daughter’s stunning blue eyes. Where she had gotten them, he wasn’t sure, but they suited her well.
“Do you have a name in mind?” the nurse inquired, standing around Bon like an anxious bird.
He thought about it for a moment. It would have to be something that was unusual, but not too out there. He had some sense that she was not going to be a girlie-girl, especially with him as a father. Finally, he came up with the perfect name.
“Riley. Riley Michelle Scott.”
About 16,000 miles around the world in Lafayette, Indiana, another young family was celebrating, or at least, they should have been. A young mother was holding her baby boy. He had just turned 4 months exactly. His father came bursting into the house, drunk as always. The town sham. Yup that pretty much described William Rose.
He glared at his girlfriend. She looked back her baby’s face. If only he didn’t look so much like his father. She would have been happy then. But of course, he had to inherit his father’s red hair and blue-green eyes. Nothing about him was remotely similar to her.
“Where’s my food?” her boyfriend asked harshly.
“It’s on the counter,” she whispered back, too afraid to look him in the eye.
He stormed at her, squatted down to look in her face, and clenched his teeth. “Did I ask you to put my food on the counter?”
“N-no.”
“Did I say I was going to get it?”
“No.”
“Well, I’m hungry. Now why don’t you go in there and get my food?”
“I’m, I’m holding the baby.”
“What was that? Did you just give me an excuse?!”
“No! But, but I’m holding the baby!”
“Fuck the baby! Get in there and heat my food up!”
“William please,” she pleaded, pulling her baby in closer to her chest. “Please…”
“Give him here!”
“No.”
“Don’t you talk back to me you bitch! Give him to me!”
“No!” She kicked him in the stomach. While he was keeled over in pain she made a dash for it. She scrambled up the stairs, went to her room, locked the door, and hid in her closet. She sobbed the entire time, not once letting her baby away from her heart. “Oh my poor William. My poor William Rose,” she crooned to her son. “I promise, you will have a better life than this.”
Sign up to rate and review this story