Unwed 💍

Chapter Eight: All I Have To Do Is Dream

The only thing on Izzy's mind was escaping from the imposing stone prison as it closed in on her, squeezing the last bit of life from her lungs. She raced down a dark corridor, her heart throbbing, completely lost. The hard bottoms of her shoes smacked hollowly against the floor—she needed air.

The hallway seemed to wind on forever. Every turn brought her to another hall, as long and bleak as the first. She quelled the urge to scream. She just wanted to go home. To slide into the comfort of her own bed, bury herself in her handmade quilt, and never come out again.

Realizing she was getting nowhere, she stopped and leaned against the cold wall, smearing tears across her face with the back of her arm. She took a shallow gulp of air, her shoulders heaving.

The wail of a newborn baby pierced the silence, jerking her from her pool of self pity.There was an eeriness to it. The cry seemed so out of place in the cold, lifeless building. Izzy took a cautious step towards it, drying the rest of her tears with a sleeve. She'd traveled a few more feet down the hall when she realized the wails had multiplied. There was more than one.

When she turned the corner, she spotted a soft glow coming from a room on the left. The cries rang out from inside.

She crept up to the large double wooden doors, and peered through the crack where the light shown through. A line of metal cribs filled the room. No one was in sight. She held her breath, pushing the door forward, an inch at a time. Sneaking into the room, she edged towards the nearest crib. A pink skinned bundle stared up at her, its cries momentarily replaced by quivering sniffs—a hand travelling unsteadily to its mouth. Grayish blue eyes studied her, stirring something deep in her heart.

Her hand involuntarily rested on the small bump in her middle. She wondered if her baby would have Donny's eyes. He had beautiful eyes. It was the first time she'd thought about what her baby would look like. Her other hand reached timidly to the baby's soft cheek. A lump rose painfully in her throat. How could something so gentle and sweet completely ruin a girl's life?

"Izzy!" Rita's breathless voice shot from the door. "What are you doing? Get out of there! Hurry, before they see you!"

Izzy's hand snapped back to her side. The baby whimpered, its little face reddening, as if working back up into a full blown tantrum.

"Are you mad?" Gloria pushed through the door and clutched Izzy's sleeve, pulling her out into the hall. " It's like you're looking for trouble! We warned you about Sister Mary Thomas, and you went and did the exact opposite of what we said." She flicked Izzy an exasperated look. " You really are impossible, aren't you?"

Izzy ignored her as her eyes surveyed the corridor. "Where's Dottie?"

"She's in the kitchen for clean up duty, where we're supposed to be right now." Rita was already headed back, she gestured for them to walk faster, her face pressed with concern.

"Instead of here, trying to save you." Gloria added with a huff.

"It was awful what that nun said to her," Izzy blurted, struggling to keep up with the two girls. "She's so young. She could have had a little more compassion."

Rita spun around and faced Izzy, a stone cold look planted on her face. Izzy stumbled, nearly colliding with her. " If you're looking for compassion, you're not gonna find it here. The sooner you realize that, the better."

Izzy, shrank back, surprised by her sudden coldness. "Dottie reminds me of my sister, Marie," she explained softly, tears collecting in her eyes. "I'd never let anyone talk to her that way."

"Look," said Rita, her voice softening. "I've been here for two months now. I've watched girls come and go. I'm trying to help you. Please, believe me. When this is over you will get to go home and start where you left off. But, you have to be tough. If you let this place get to you, it will ruin you." She paused, and took a deep breath. The three girls footsteps fell together, echoing against the walls. "I've seen it happen."