1 My Past

I am Martha Rosewood (nee Smith), an eighty-one year old lady. I have lived a life full of regrets and bad choices. Oh wait...I didn't even make my own choices, I lived according to my parents. I always agreed on what they decided for me, and that's why I wasn't able to fulfill my dream of becoming an idol. They restricted me from becoming an idol, because they felt that women weren't supposed to work, just serve their husbands and children till their last breath. I even married the man they wanted me too, an abusive one who was always ordering me around. And if I didn't obey him, trust me, it was never a good end for me. Whenever he got angry, his eyes turned dark and his veins popped out. It was never a good sign for me.

In my whole life, I never heard even a simple, 'I love you' from him. In my eyes, he was and will forever be a beast. I wanted to live with my parents for my parents for my whole life, but since they wanted me to live at my husband's house when I got married, which I did when I was only eighteen; they never knew about the tortures and problems I faced.

I am lying on my death bed now, waiting for my end. Do you know why I am dying so early?

When I was thirty-one and pregnant with a baby boy, I learnt that my husband has been seeing another woman; at least ten years younger than him. Disappointed, but not shocked, I packed my bags and went straight to my maternal house in a dark and stormy night.

One night, my water broke. I called for my dad and we drove to the hospital in his car. I was in pain, it was like my whole body was in fire. After six long and painful hours of labor, I gave birth to my very first child. What I found strange was, my child didn't cry.

The doctors and nurses took him into another wing and I didn't say anything because I was in shock. An hour later, Dr. Wilde came in carrying my baby in a white towel.

"I am sorry Mrs. Rosewood. But your infant didn't survive," Dr. Wilde said, her gaze on the floor.

I quietly processed it all. When I came to my senses, I cried. A lot. My parents and nurses held me down while I cried and desperately flung my arms here and there. Giving up, I just asked for the doctor to hand me my baby.

Dr. Wilde handed me the baby and said, "You gave birth to a really pretty baby boy, Mrs. Rosewood. His birth cord was wound around his neck, his skin blue. We tried our best to save him, but we couldn't. We are extremely sorry."

"But obviously you didn't try hard enough!" I yelled, tears pouring down my cheeks as I looked at my baby. His skin was pale white, and his deep green eyes were wide open, staring back at me...

"You didn't even close his eyes," I whispered as I closed his eyes with my palm softly. He wasn't able to see the world with his beautiful eyes.

I went into depression after that. My parents, despite my will, sent me back to my husband's house, because they believed that it was very strange and unlikely for a lady to stay away from her husband even in the most difficult situations.

When he knew about the dead baby, he went ballistic. "You killed my baby! The only heir to the Rosewood generation!" he yelled as he shook me hard by the shoulders.

I endured many years of ignorance and torture after that. I felt empty. I didn't cry anymore because I had no reason to cry. No feelings left whatsoever. The only thing that would have been close to me was my baby, but he's no more.

Now I am finally on my death bed. Only some of my distant cousins came to funeral because my parents were dead and my husband simple didn't care. He must be out with some women in her early twenties.

I close my eyes taking my final breath and expected to see only black after that. But when I opened my eyes, I saw...clouds. Many of them. I was perplexed. I saw an angel, hair flowing like a waterfall down her back and dressed in white.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"I am your guardian angel. I have been watching you from here all this time. I see you have made a lot of wrong choices in the past and you wish to correct them," the angel replied, smiling softly.

"I do," I replied shortly, not knowing what to say.

"Do you wish to be born again? Change your past mistakes and fly with your golden wings, spreading love and support for all?" asked the angel.

"Yes, I do," I replied, puzzled with what was going on.

The angel smiled and I felt myself passing out.

When I opened my eyes, I realized that I was in a very bright room. I was looking at a crying face of a woman, who was smiling adoringly at me. I tried to speak but nothing other than gurgles came out of my mouth.

"My baby! You are so beautiful!" she said.

I then realized that I was no longer an old women. I was an infant, born to a journalist. I was not Martha Rosewood. I was Emily Parker now and I must live freely this time.