Baldwin's Mansion
As I woke to the soft light of morning filtering through the heavy curtains, I lay still for a moment, allowing the stillness to settle around me. The mansion felt quiet, almost too quiet, as if holding its breath. I pushed back the blankets, feeling the chill of the air against my skin as I swung my legs over the side of the bed. Each step toward the staircase echoed in the vastness of the house, a reminder of the emptiness that lingered here.
As I descended, a knot tightened in my stomach. I had made a choice-a conscious decision not to celebrate this year. Christmas had been a time of joy, laughter, and magic, but now it felt like a weight I could no longer bear. My heart ached with memories that haunted every corner of this place.
When I reached the living area, my breath caught in my throat. There it stood: a tall, unadorned Christmas tree, its branches reaching toward the ceiling, waiting for decorations that would never come. Confusion washed over me. I had been so certain that I wouldn't want to see a tree this year. Yet here it was, stark and lonely, a symbol of everything I had tried to avoid.
I stepped closer, my fingers brushing against the rough needles, and a wave of emotions crashed over me. The tree felt like a ghost of celebrations past, echoing with laughter that had faded away. It was a reminder of the joy that had once filled this space, now replaced by a heavy silence.
My heart ached for what had been lost-every ornament, every string of lights, now just a distant memory. I had thought that leaving behind the traditions would lessen the pain, but seeing the tree only intensified it. Confusion twisted in my chest. Was it a cruel reminder or an invitation to remember?
I turned away, needing to escape the weight of it all, but the image lingered in my mind. I had chosen this path, yet here was the tree, silently challenging me to reconsider. Could I really let go of it all? The answer felt far away, tangled in the memories that refused to fade.
Before I could fully process the sight, he appeared-Blaze, the man who had become a complicated part of my life. His presence was commanding in his usual all black attire dressed ready for the day, yet there was a softness in his gaze as he stepped into the living room. I could see the question in his eyes, the way he searched my face for understanding.
"I thought you might like it" he said, his voice low and steady, trying to bridge the gap between us. He took a step closer, his gaze unwavering.
I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came. Shock and confusion warred within me. "Why would you do this?" I finally managed to ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Because I know how much you loved this time of year. I wanted to bring a little light back into this place, that's all."
His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken emotions. I wanted to appreciate the gesture, to feel gratitude for his thoughtfulness, but the memory of my child loomed large, casting a shadow over everything. "But I... I can't celebrate without Theo" I stammered, my heart aching.
Blaze's expression softened, and for a moment, I saw something deeper in his eyes an understanding of my pain that felt almost intimate. "I know," he said gently. "And you don't have to do it if you don't want it, Savannah. Let's just decorate this tree."
I looked at the tree again, the bare branches now feeling less like a reminder of loss and more like an invitation. Maybe he was right. Perhaps there was a way to honor my child's memory without letting grief consume me entirely.
"No, I don't wanna" I cooed as I remebered him again, Blaze nodded in understanding "Alright, savannah" He reached into his suit pocket and took something out and extended towards me, I confusedly looked at his palm and then at him who had an straight soft face on, "This will maybe help you a little to get free" I couldn't understand what he meant but I picked up the small device he had given me, its cool surface familiar against my palm. Blaze, with his gentle demeanor and fierce protectiveness, had insisted I keep it close. "Whenever you're feeling lost," he'd said, his voice low and reassuring, "just listen. It might help."
At the time, I had nodded, trying to trust his intentions, but skepticism lingered in my mind. How could a simple device provide solace for a pain that felt so deep, so raw? But as I stood there, I believed him and waited for it to listen. If it will really free me?
HealZone Medical
The sterile scent of antiseptic hung in the air, mingling with the faint hum of machines and the distant chatter of nurses and doctors. I leaned back against the cool wall of the break room, the chaos of the day finally starting to fade. My legs ached, and I closed my eyes, letting the weight of the world slip off my shoulders for just a moment.
It had been one of those days-endless rounds, urgent calls, and a patient whose condition had taken a sudden turn. Each moment had felt like a rush, a flurry of activity that left little room for breath. I had jumped from one task to another, adrenaline pumping, focused on the needs of others while my own exhaustion piled up.
Now, with the door closed and the sounds of the busy hospital muffled, I allowed myself to breathe. I could still hear the faint beeping of monitors in the background, a constant reminder of the lives we were trying to save, but in this small, dimly lit space, I could finally let my guard down.
Beside me, Bella sipped her coffee, her expression mirroring my own fatigue. "I swear, I'm going to start carrying a pillow around," she joked, trying to lighten the mood. Her eyes sparkled with mischief, even amid the chaos. "At this rate, I might just need it."
I chuckled softly, grateful for her presence. sence. Bella had a way of turning even the most stressful days into something bearable. We had been through countless shifts together, navigating the ups and downs of the hospital life side by side. Today had tested us both, but there was comfort in knowing I wasn't alone in this whirlwind.
"Remember that time we got stuck in the supply closet for an hour?" I asked, a smile breaking through my fatigue as I recalled the memory. "I thought we'd never get out!"
She laughed, her voice brightening the room. "And you kept talking about how we could survive with only a box of band-aids and an old roll of gauze!"
I shook my head, grateful for moments like these that reminded me why I loved this job. But today had felt different-hectic and overwhelming. The weight of the world pressed down on my shoulders as we cared for patients who were battling their own struggles. I felt the urge to help them all, but there was only so much I could do.
"Okay, enough reminiscing," Bella said, her tone shifting back to seriousness. "We need to recharge. We've got another few hours before we can escape this place."
I nodded, pulling out my phone to check the time. "Right. Just a few minutes more, and then back to the grind."
We shared a comfortable silence, sipping our drinks as the chaos of the hospital buzzed beyond the break room door. Until Bella had to leave because patients needs a help and I glanced out the window, watching the clouds drift lazily across the sky, a stark contrast to the whirlwind of activity inside.
And I remembered about the thing Blaze had told me, I remembered the Device he had given me and thought if I should go and listen to it, I watched the clock striking 4:45 PM I still had 10 minutes more, getting up from my seat I walked out to go to my cabin, to get that listening device.
(Rooftop)
The city sprawled beneath me, a patchwork of shimmering lights and distant sounds, but up here, it felt like I was on the edge of the world. I took a deep breath, letting the cool night air fill my lungs, grounding me. The skyline was breathtaking, but my focus was on the small device in my hand-Blaze's device.
He had said it might help me find my peace, but I wasn't sure what that even meant anymore. The last few months had been a whirlwind of chaos and noise, and all I craved was a moment of clarity. As I settled into my spot, leaning against the cool concrete, I could feel the weight of my thoughts pressing down on me.
I flicked the device on, the soft whirring sound cutting through the stillness. It felt almost intimate, like a secret shared only between us. I had always trusted Blaze, even when his methods were unconventional. But what if this didn't work? What if I was just grasping at straws?
"Hey Mommy, it's me," It was Theo? It was Theo speaking, a slight crackle in the audio. "I know things will be hard when you were listening to it. I can't pretend to understand everything you're feeling, but if things gets hard because of me or you feel like your life has stopped, I want you to know you're not alone. I'm here for you, even when I'm not there."
I felt a tear slip down my cheek, surprised by the rush of emotions that surged within me. Hearing his voice made the ache feel a little less isolating. He continued, "Whenever you're ready, remember the moments we shared. You have the strength to get through this. Your love for me will always be a part of you. Let it guide you, not hold you back mommy."
I paused, taking in his words. The idea of carrying my child's memory forward instead of being weighed down by it felt like a flicker of light breaking through the darkness. "You're stronger than you think," he said, his voice filled with an unwavering conviction. "And I believe in you."
As I listened, the knot in my chest began to loosen. It was as if he were wrapping me in a gentie embrace, reminding me that it was okay to feel pain but also okay to seek healing. I could honor my child's memory and still find joy, even if it felt like a distant dream right now.
"Don't scold the big guy for not giving you this sooner as he did what I told him too, I'm watching if you do this" he goes "I love you to the moon and back mommy, muahh."
The recording ended, but the warmth of his voice lingered. I sat in the quiet, my heart a little lighter, a little more open to the possibility of moving forward. Maybe this device wasn't just a tool; it was a lifeline, a reminder that love could still be a source of strength in my darkest moments.
With a newfound resolve, I wiped my tears and took a deep breath. I wouldn't let grief define me. I would carry my child's memory with me, and with Blaze's support, I would learn to navigate this path toward healing.
Author's Note :
Enjoy everyone <3
Hope you're liking it and do let me know if there's something you don't understand.
Have a good day/night <3<3