Categories > Cartoons > Delilah and Julius
Nosey leaned against the pale-blue wall, his normally curly brown hair plastered to his face by sweat. He could hear his partner, Marina, in the room. She was grunting, breathing heavy. A cross between a scream and a sob echoed around the silent halls. This was a new wing, Nosey and Marina were the only occupants so far. There was no one to hear her.
How had this happened? He had asked himself that repeatedly over the last several hours. That, and many other questions. Like, why had Marina insisted that she not go to a hospital? Was she embarrassed? He was the one that should be embarrassed. Why had she said that her brother, Ryan, come to help her? Inside the room, Ryan was doing what the doctors should have been. Ryan wasn't even a doctor, he was a mechanic! But he knew more about the subject than Nosey. He was just a kid.
We're both just kids, he thought. Nosey was only in his first year of being a teenager. Marina was fourteen, a year older than him. Her brother was eighteen, owner of a garage. Kids shouldn't have to go through this, Nosey thought, wiping a drop of sweat from his nose. No one should.
From inside the room, Marina let out a strangled sob of pain. Then there was silence. "Is it done?" her tired, strained voice asked.
"Yeah," her brother's deep voice replied. "It's done. It's over."
"But why ...?" she stopped asking the question, like she already knew the answer.
There was another moment of silence before Marina let out a howl of despair. Nosey felt an icy fist of fear and sadness clamp down on his heart. No ... All he could hear were Marina's sobs.
The doorknob turned, announcing Ryan leaving the room. Nosey straighten up as he came out. The sight shocked and disturbed him. A bloodied towel was draped over his arm, his red hands cupped, hiding something. Nosey met his eyes, but only briefly. The anger that resided in them caused him to look away.
Nosey opened his mouth to say something. But what to say? How's she doing? Nothing sounded right. Nothing expressed his sorrow, his shame.
"You," Ryan growled, "you caused this. This is your fault!" His whole body trembled with rage.
"No!" Nosey protested. "I mean, yeah, but it's not ... I didn't mean ..."
Without looking down, Ryan uncupped his hands. "Look at this. Look at what you have done."
A single tear rolled down his cheek and fell. Nosey watched it as it landed softly on Ryan's hand. He couldn't take his eyes of what Ryan was holding. He felt his stomach churn. He felt bile creeping up the back of his throat. Turing to the garbage can beside him, Nosey fell to his knees and vomited. He heard Ryan sniff in disgust as he began to cry, retching again. He couldn't get the image out of his head: Ryan's crimson-stained hands, holding ... holding ...
The still form of his dead child.
My child, he thought, crying, vomiting, choking all at the same time. My daughter ...
How had this happened? How had he let her take advantage of him like that, after the success of their first mission? And why hadn't he been wise enough to see the consequences? How could something so lovely turn out so wrong? Nosey kept on crying as he heard Ryan leave, to dispose of the dead baby.
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Marina sat on the bloodied bed sheets, her mind racing. How could she ever face Nosey again? Al, Scarlet, Ryan, any of them, knowing what she had done. She had pressured him into it, it was her fault. And now this ... as if finding out you were pregnant at fourteen wasn't bad enough. She couldn't tell anyone, not even Ursula, her best friend. No one could know.
She let out another quiet sob, holding her head in her hands. Her blue eyes were now red from crying. Her black, curly locks hung down in front of her eyes. How could she walk back out there tomorrow, knowing what she had done? How could she go on another mission with Nosey, knowing what she had done? How could she look Nosey in the eye, knowing what she had done?
She couldn't. Not ever again. It was too painful.
Her eyes strayed to the drawer where she kept her pistol. It was to be used in self defence, in case ever attacked, Al had said. This was self defence. Self defence against the shame, the hurt, the anguish she had caused. She opened the drawer and took the pistol out. Holding it to her head, she uttered two words.
"I'm sorry."
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Ryan came running into the room, finding Nosey standing over the body of his partner. All the tears were gone now, he had cried them all. Ryan sighed heavily as he picked up his younger sister. She didn't deserve this.
"What are you going to do?" Nosey asked.
"Bury her, out in the back. Under that big oak she and you used to sit under. Along with the baby. She would like that."
"But what about ..."
Ryan turned back to Nosey. "No one has to know. We'll say she ran away. She ran because she couldn't handle the pressure. No one has to know."
As Ryan walked out of the room, Nosey whispered softly to himself, "No one has to know ..."
the end.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Named "Hallelujah" for the song by Rufus Wainwright.
How had this happened? He had asked himself that repeatedly over the last several hours. That, and many other questions. Like, why had Marina insisted that she not go to a hospital? Was she embarrassed? He was the one that should be embarrassed. Why had she said that her brother, Ryan, come to help her? Inside the room, Ryan was doing what the doctors should have been. Ryan wasn't even a doctor, he was a mechanic! But he knew more about the subject than Nosey. He was just a kid.
We're both just kids, he thought. Nosey was only in his first year of being a teenager. Marina was fourteen, a year older than him. Her brother was eighteen, owner of a garage. Kids shouldn't have to go through this, Nosey thought, wiping a drop of sweat from his nose. No one should.
From inside the room, Marina let out a strangled sob of pain. Then there was silence. "Is it done?" her tired, strained voice asked.
"Yeah," her brother's deep voice replied. "It's done. It's over."
"But why ...?" she stopped asking the question, like she already knew the answer.
There was another moment of silence before Marina let out a howl of despair. Nosey felt an icy fist of fear and sadness clamp down on his heart. No ... All he could hear were Marina's sobs.
The doorknob turned, announcing Ryan leaving the room. Nosey straighten up as he came out. The sight shocked and disturbed him. A bloodied towel was draped over his arm, his red hands cupped, hiding something. Nosey met his eyes, but only briefly. The anger that resided in them caused him to look away.
Nosey opened his mouth to say something. But what to say? How's she doing? Nothing sounded right. Nothing expressed his sorrow, his shame.
"You," Ryan growled, "you caused this. This is your fault!" His whole body trembled with rage.
"No!" Nosey protested. "I mean, yeah, but it's not ... I didn't mean ..."
Without looking down, Ryan uncupped his hands. "Look at this. Look at what you have done."
A single tear rolled down his cheek and fell. Nosey watched it as it landed softly on Ryan's hand. He couldn't take his eyes of what Ryan was holding. He felt his stomach churn. He felt bile creeping up the back of his throat. Turing to the garbage can beside him, Nosey fell to his knees and vomited. He heard Ryan sniff in disgust as he began to cry, retching again. He couldn't get the image out of his head: Ryan's crimson-stained hands, holding ... holding ...
The still form of his dead child.
My child, he thought, crying, vomiting, choking all at the same time. My daughter ...
How had this happened? How had he let her take advantage of him like that, after the success of their first mission? And why hadn't he been wise enough to see the consequences? How could something so lovely turn out so wrong? Nosey kept on crying as he heard Ryan leave, to dispose of the dead baby.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Marina sat on the bloodied bed sheets, her mind racing. How could she ever face Nosey again? Al, Scarlet, Ryan, any of them, knowing what she had done. She had pressured him into it, it was her fault. And now this ... as if finding out you were pregnant at fourteen wasn't bad enough. She couldn't tell anyone, not even Ursula, her best friend. No one could know.
She let out another quiet sob, holding her head in her hands. Her blue eyes were now red from crying. Her black, curly locks hung down in front of her eyes. How could she walk back out there tomorrow, knowing what she had done? How could she go on another mission with Nosey, knowing what she had done? How could she look Nosey in the eye, knowing what she had done?
She couldn't. Not ever again. It was too painful.
Her eyes strayed to the drawer where she kept her pistol. It was to be used in self defence, in case ever attacked, Al had said. This was self defence. Self defence against the shame, the hurt, the anguish she had caused. She opened the drawer and took the pistol out. Holding it to her head, she uttered two words.
"I'm sorry."
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Ryan came running into the room, finding Nosey standing over the body of his partner. All the tears were gone now, he had cried them all. Ryan sighed heavily as he picked up his younger sister. She didn't deserve this.
"What are you going to do?" Nosey asked.
"Bury her, out in the back. Under that big oak she and you used to sit under. Along with the baby. She would like that."
"But what about ..."
Ryan turned back to Nosey. "No one has to know. We'll say she ran away. She ran because she couldn't handle the pressure. No one has to know."
As Ryan walked out of the room, Nosey whispered softly to himself, "No one has to know ..."
the end.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Named "Hallelujah" for the song by Rufus Wainwright.
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