She held her newborn baby close as her hair stuck to her sweaty face. Her baby girl was screaming and crying, but she didn’t care. This was her baby and she wasn’t going to let her go for the world. “Mommy loves you.”

                The doctors began to take her baby girl away. The mother’s breath was raggid from her earlier pushing. She’d done it all natural. No C-Section, no numbing, no Epidural Anesthesia. She refused to have her birth any other way. It made her feel like more of a mother. It was just how she was.

                She fixated her eyes on the baby nurses, watching as they went to clean her baby up and clear her body of harmful substances. “Your baby’s name?” She looked up at the voice that drew her from her thoughts. “Huh?”

                The nurse began to tap her pen on the clipboard. “Do you have a name picked out for your baby, yet, ma’am?” She tried, but failed miserably to sit up straight in her hospital bed. “I wanted to name her-“

“Hazel. Her name is Hazel.”, Her husband’s voice chided in.”

                The mother was furious, but couldn’t muster up the strength to show it. “Hazel Thomas? Middle name?” The mother tried to pitch in at least the middle name, but was, again, interrupted by her husband.

“Nora.”

                The nurse smiled at the husband. This exchange did not go unnoticed by the wife. The nurse must have thought that her husband was just eager to name their newborn child from the high of finally seeing your baby for the first time after 9 months. If that’s what she thought, she was mistaken.

                This was her husband. She knew him the most. The light began to hurt her eyes. She felt a little tug on her arm sleeve and looked down at her 4-year old son, Darius.

“Mommy? Are you still in pain?”, Darius asked with a concerned expression.

                But, before she could answer, the nurse began to speak. “I wish you both the best of luck. As soon as we secure everything, we’ll bring you Hazel Nora Thomas." The nurse said this without taking her eyes off of her husband. She giggled, turned on her heels and went back to her job.

                The mother looked at her husband with intense eyes. “Charles?”, she hissed as she was slowly regaining her energy. “Why’d you name our child after her?” He responded, never taking his eyes off of that nurse until she vanished from his view. “Janice. It’s just a name. Get the hell over it.”

                She wanted to yell at him, but decided against it. Tears filled up at the brim of her eyes, but she did not let them fall. Darius looked between his parents. He hated to see them argue. He really did. He knew that it was only a matter of time before a divorce was filed. He would try to keep them together, but really, what could a four year old do?

                Two days later, they arrived home. Darius watched at the interaction between Mommy and Daddy. Silence. No exchanges of hugs and kisses. No smiles and great tales of what their baby will be. They were slowly breaking apart. Maybe the fire had died down somewhere; results of being with someone since Freshman.

                Darius’s mother, Janice, went into her room. Not once smiling at him like she usually did. Darius failed to notice dad coming up to him as he was so deep in thought.

                “Hey, squirt.” Darius jumped and screamed like a girl, causing his dad to let out a grateful laugh. Coming to his senses, he became embarrassed. A boy should never scream like a girl, nor should he be caught off guard. It was a lesson his father taught him.

                His dad finally started to calm down from his laughter. “Why so jumpy? What were you thinking about, son?” Darius did not want to discuss his thoughts with his daddy, so he did the next best thing. He began to fist at his eyes and yawn. “Oh, someone’s getting sleepy.”

                Darius nodded as his dad picked him up and carried him to his room. Darius climbed in the bed and his dad covered him up, tucking him in. He hated being treated like a baby, but he had to face the fact that that’s just the way the world perceived 4-year olds. “Want to hear a bedtime story?”

“No, sir.”

                Charles gently smiled and kissed his son on the forehead. He knew his son was turning into a big boy. “Goodnight, son.”

“Goodnight, Daddy.”

His daddy reached over and turned on the lamp. “You want the big light off, right?”

                Darius nodded his head. His dad went over to the door and flipped off the switch next to it. As he was closing the door, he gave off a call. “Don’t let the bed bugs bite.” Darius thought it was silly, practically ridiculous how parents did everything in their power to comfort their children and then, right at the last minute, recite the ‘Bed bug’ saying, scaring their children further into the pits of fear.

                He was not scared, though. He knew bed bugs were real, but they didn’t have any. His thoughts were cut off by the traveling of his curious mind. He heard Hazel, his newly born baby sister, crying. Sure. It was only natural  to hear her crying, after all, she is new to this cruel world, but what caught his attention was the small, barely audible sound with in it... his mother’s sobs.