October 12th, 8pm, Wilson Hospital, 2001.
"Honey, she's coming out."
Aaargh.
She screams again as another contraction hit, hard.
Inside the ward, she's laid on a stretcher and wheeled into the Operating Room.
"Push ma'am. Push as hard as you can..."
"Not that kind of push. You're just straining yourself and will get tired easily. Push, almost like you want to defecate..." The doctor in charge explains.
Feeling her pain beside her, sits her husband with her hands in his.
Just as the woman on the bed is sweating hard, the man is sweating as well, if not even harder from the impact of the screams from his wife.
Suddenly, the woman on the bed relaxes and passes out.
"Is the baby out?" Her husband asks, agitated.
"No."
The doctor is visibly surprised but nothing he can do.
"Prepare a proper OR. We are getting this baby out by a Caesarean. You need to fill a consent form sir."
"I can't be here for it? Please, my wife will need me when she wakes up"
"Well, you can, but you'll have to dress in proper clothes."
"Bring the heart monitor. Let's check the baby's heartbeat."
After a few grueling minutes, the doctor stands up and sighs heavily.
"The baby died in her womb. The placenta had wrapped itself on her neck and strangled her to death."
"What?!" The husband shouts.
"Lead him out. We'll get the baby out by a Caesarean as planned. Put the mother on general anaesthesia..."
He walked outside, dejected.
Outside the door, he broke down into heavy tears that rolled down his face without any plans of stopping.
Looking up at the sky and seeing the moon, full moon, shining brightly and undisturbed in the cloudless sky, he rambles on to himself.
"For the eight years we've been married, all the babies we've conceived had died before death and after this one, there's no hope for us again as my wife will reach menopause... Help... I really need help right now..." Heartbroken, he falls to his knees and weeps with his head in his hands.
Inside the OR, suddenly the ray of the moon shines through the high windows on the body of the woman who passed out.
"Scalpel"
Aaargh!
The woman wakes up and screams. Somehow, her contractions had returned and so did the baby.
"Call her husband back in. And hurry."
Bewildered, the doctors and nurses delivered the baby through the normal method of delivery and the beautiful baby was born.
With a slight twinge of white hair and startling hazel eyes, the doctor and nurses fawned over her beauty.
Her father enters the room and sees the baby, moving slightly in the nurses hands and being handed to the mother. He goes to meet the duo and sees the white hair.
He looks outside the window where the moon ray was just leaving.
"Angel..." The woman whispers.
"No. We'll name her Halo. The moon saved her. Saved us."
The woman smiles and looks up at the window as well before passing out again.
The nurses take the baby and goes to clean her up.
The husband thanks the doctor over and over.
.
While growing up, I was becoming more beautiful, and each night of my birthday every single year my parents always tells me the story of how I was born almost like a tradition. Although I didn't believe them, nature always tells me it's true because on full moon nights, I always feel like I could fly or do things regular people can't.
Just like my mum once told me that when I was two, on a full moon night, she forgot the gas on and went out.
By the time she'd come back, the house was in flames.
Amidst her tears and guilt, she called the emergency firemen number and they put out the fire.
And right there in the middle of the flames, I was, playing with my toys and my hair glowing like a lamplight.
She'd cried for many days after with me in her hands.
Its always hard to believe their stories anyway.
Growing over the years was a mixture of pleasure and pain.
Every birthday of mine, people say I'm only getting more beautiful. And more beautiful. And more beautiful.
When you hear it a lot, it becomes a pain.
Everybody in our neighborhood was fond of me, and everything I wanted to have, I got it although I wasn't spoiled.
Oh, not at all.
Life was just interesting and nice, all until reality hit when I got to high school. High school on its own is a living hell but being me o my made it worse for ME.
First day of school was nice. I made a lot of friends and got close to many people. Although it's obviously because of my beauty. From the first day, I gained the attention of the whole school.
Not up to a week into being in high school, different boys started to meet me and started to tell me how they feel about me but since I didn't like any of them I just politely turn them down. Its a real pain when I have to turn down at least two boys in a day. And being polite too.
Until I fell in love with this boy in my class Pete. He was intelligent, handsome and clueless, very clueless which was his charm and I only likes him more.
I wasn't planning on telling him how I felt about him but one day I decided to.
I asked to see him after school in the parking lot and he agreed.
I was so happy.
When he showed up, it felt like my heart was in my mouth and I was so shy.
"You said you wanted to meet?"
"Ye...Yes. I have something to tell you."
"I'm listening."
Its too late to back out anyway.
"I like you" I tell him, really shy.
Suddenly, he started to choke, and I watched as he bled out blood from his nose and mouth and even his ear before he died in front of me.
I screamed and fell there.