Waaahhh!
"Oh, it's a beautiful boy-" The woman said, wiping the newborn with a cloth.
A nurse.
The doctor was yet to come.
The father was passed out on the floor, dreaming of a bright future.
The mother, Angie rejoiced. The pain was too much and there was a mess just beneath her waist- yet- yet her face was reddened with gratitude, tears of happiness, and motherly affection. "Can I hold him now?" She said, panting.
Just staying conscious took her all- yet- yet she gave more than just her all.
It was 3 am in the morning and she'd never felt more alive.
"Not yet," The nurse said. "WE still need to get the flower out."
The placenta hadn't yet come out and the delivery was not complete.
Besides, they had to clean the baby.
***
Some days passed by.
Relatives and friends of the couple came by the hospital and congratulated them. Mostly just friends and family of the mother… no one from the father's side.
It was a healthy childbirth and a natural one at that too.
Of course, it was only possible because the doctor was too busy being passed out from overworking. Otherwise, he'd have surely recommended a c-section to the mother.
The reason being?
They thought the boy was going to die. Or rather too frail to be born naturally.
But of course, nothing of that sort happened and if anything, the boy was too healthy.
"Hard to imagine, he's our kid…" The father, Brian said, holding the hand of the mother, while she fed him.
Brian was a frail man. Thin, frail, and kind of average.
Angie too was a bit malnourished.
After all, they hardly had any money.
Yet, their kid, their child, was healthy, plump, and oddly cute.
But Angie chuckled; it tickled. "Not really. It's not hard at all. He's ours, and we're his parents." Her smile was bright. "And that'll forever be true."
The boy was beautiful. But even if he was ugly, his mother's love wasn't going to diminish one bit.
***
Some more days passed by.
Angie was discharged and the couple returned home.
A tiny apartment with only two rooms, one bathroom, and a kitchen…
The boy was named Andrew Lous and he grew up just like any other baby. At least for the first two weeks.
But something about the baby was odd.
He didn't cry much, and he oddly just stared at his parents whenever they talked, almost as though trying to comprehend?
It was odd but not that unusual. He was just another calm, curious baby.
But he grew faster than the average baby and drank a lot of milk.
His mother had to eat thrice as much as she used to, just to make enough milk. Of course, she gained weight in the process but not by much.
As for Brian- he was just glad to have a healthy boy- on the surface.
In reality, he had to work much harder and spend way less time with his family. After all, this was the fate of a lower-middle-class family in the corners of Eastern Europe. They were already running on fumes, and now they had to worry about another mouth to feed?
Irregardless of those facts, the family actually moved on quite smoothly.
The baby started crawling and eventually began to walk. He mostly just spent time watching TV, specifically history channels.
Around the one-year mark, however, they noticed something even odder.
"Why isn't he speaking yet?" The father said, buttoning his shirt.
He'd heard things about how babies this age start saying their parents' names and all that.
He was running a bit late for his early morning shift but it couldn't be helped.
"I've been wondering that for a while. Should we take him to a doctor?" Angie was seated on the bed, holding Andrew in her arms. She'd never had a baby before. So, she didn't know right from wrong.
The same was true for Brian.
And since the couple lived quite a long way from their families- they couldn't ask for their help either.
Or more like they didn't want to.
So- perhaps taking the baby to a doctor was the best idea?
"It is- oka," The baby said, in broken English. Its mouth didn't necessarily move but the words came out anyway. "I come from another world. That- why- I try learn, the languga first-"
The baby just stared, nonplussed.
Meanwhile- the parents?
They weren't thunderstruck, no.
They were about to faint.
Eyes bulging out, breaths erratic, unable to believe what just happened!
"What the fuck?" The father whispered faintly. He didn't want to think about it. After all- why would his son drink so much milk and why would he just not act like a normal baby? It all made sense. "We've been raising a devil."
And just like a pious religious person he once was, he came to the conclusion, it was a devil.
He didn't want to say it out loud.
But- just like his own mother had taught him- he said it regardless…
"SHUT UP!" Angie screeched, holding the baby firm in her chest. "He's, our son! Don't you fucking dare call him a devil!" Her breaths became audible and her heart raced.
Eyes threatening to leak. But- a glare regardless.
The baby of course just remained quiet as to what was happening but-
Yeah, Brian staggered a step back and- "Wha-"
"He's our son," she said eyes streaming.
It didn't matter.
It didn't matter what he was or where he came from.
It didn't matter if their boy spoke words like a three-year-old despite being just one.
He was their son.
"Ri-right!" The father wasn't convinced.
And yet- he said the words and fell to his knees, staring.
The world spun.
It spun from their very feet, making their legs shake.
It was almost as though, someone or something just took the land beneath their feet like it wasn't a big deal.
In a matter of seconds, the family- was on the verge of collapse.
"Mo-m, da, I-no devil. I-" The baby's eyes shimmered, leaking even.
"I know sweety-" Angie hugged him and glared at Brian. "If you think we should leave, then say it. We'll leave."
She was a housewife and she chose this life.
She left her family for this man.
But in the end, if that decision proved to be wrong, she had no plans to just stick around and be subjected to abuse.
She was not that weak, no.
"You'll leave?" He murmured. Brian didn't cry. But his eyes did shimmer. It was almost as though he was going through something he did before.
There was a reason the two lived so far away from their families.
Love.
They loved each other.
And for that love, they had to run away. After all, they were from different religions- and their families would have never accepted their union.
They vowed to be with one another, forever.
And yet-
She was going to leave?
"No!" Brian yelled, also kind of teary-eyed. "I don't want you to go-" His arm spread on its own, toward the two.
"Then apologize-?" She didn't know what she wanted either.
Would an apology even do?
After all-
"I'm sorry- I didn't mean to. It's just- I'd always been taught that. I'd always…" He broke down, falling to his knees. "I'm so sorry, please don't leave me."
Abandoned by his friends and family- the man had lost almost everything in his life.
He was afraid- he was afraid to lose more.
He rejected his religion and yet. And yet, he said those words.
Words he could never take back…
She came down, she sat down next to him along with the baby.
And the three hugged.
"He's our son," Angie said. "So please, please don't call him a devil…" her silent tears just flowed.
"I know…"
"Ma… da…"