literature

Slipped Away

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The room was quiet except for the occasional beep. The redheaded woman slightly leaned in, her financee, gently grasped her shoulders.The doctor moved the monitor around Betty's plump stomach, pressing a button enlarge the image on the screen by the side of the bed.

"And it's about---right there!"

There was a gasp.

"Look Simon! There's our baby!" She beamed, pushing her glasses in. "That's our little baby!"

"I know!" Simon's voice was choked up. "I know princess! Oh the baby's so tiny!" He looked up at the doctor. "Is it too early to tell if the baby's a boy or a girl?"

"Nope. I can check right now." The doctor clicked a button on the monitor, turning the image on the screen sideways. The photo was zoomed in even more. The expectant parents to be waited anxiously.

"It's a boy!" The doctor finally said.

"A boy!" Simon exclaimed. Betty let out a laugh. "Betty!"

"We're having a boy!" She beamed, pulling him close and kissing him on the cheek.

"Would you want the photos now?" The doctor asked.

"Yes please!" The doctor left the room, leaving the happy couple to rejoice.
**********************************************************************************
They walked down the street, his arm around her, she snuggling close to him. They looked like just any ordinary couple one might find. But what most people didn't know that he was Simon Petrikov, the world famous archaeologist.

Betty gazed into his eyes, a pensive serene smile on her face.

"You're thinking," he remarked.

"Yes," Betty answered. "I was thinking about names for our boy."

"I'm fine with whatever you decide Princess. I'm not so good with coming up with names."

"I really like the name Gunter," Betty said.

"I like that name too," Simon smiled. "Gunter Petrikov! What a very fitting name."

Betty's hand reached out and gently took Simon's. His hand placed lightly over her stomach, he felt a slight tap against his palm, the first sign of movement from his son.
*****************************************************************************************
Simon and Betty sat on the sofa, right across from Annabelle who sat in the easy chair with her six- year old daughter Marceline on her lap.

"A boy! That's great news!" Annabelle exclaimed.

"What boy?" Marceline asked.

"Our little baby sweetie," Betty responded.

"A baby? Can I see him?"

The adults laughed.

"It's going to take a while til you see him. But we have a picture of him." Simon took out the ultrasound photo and motioned to Marceline to come over. The little girl walked over the couch and sat between Simon and Betty.

"See, there he is," Simon pointed out.

Marceline squinted at the photo and looked up confused.

"But he doesn't look like a baby," she stated.

"Yes, but he has to grow first before he looks like a baby," Betty said putting an arm around the girl.

"And you'll get to play with him," Simon chimed in, sitting closer to Betty and Marceline.  He looked up at Annabelle. "Did you know he already has a name?"

"You guys decided so soon?" Annabelle smiled.

"Yep, his name is Gunter."

"Nice name, very unique," Annabelle nodded.

Marceline held the photo and waved at it.

"Hi Gunter! I'll see you soon!"
**********************************************************************
"Only a few hours after the attack on the USS Spearhead, the United States is at war—"

"Betty? Have you seen my black shoes?"

"They're probably in the closet," Betty called out from the living room. She was sitting on the couch, nervously gazing at the television screen. Simon walked in and sat down next to her. The image cut from the newscaster to a presidential press conference.

"It is possible that there could be an attack on the mainland, but it is very unlikely at the moment," the president said. "We assure everyone that we will do our best to keep all our citizens safe. As I speak about---"

"I guess this means I still have to catch that flight," Simon remarked.

"Simon you shouldn't go," Betty took his hand.

"I doubt that there will be an attack on Scandinavia anytime soon," Simon comforted her. "I'll be fine."

"But you know how serious this has been," Betty sighed. "The -------- have the largest supply of nuclear weapons."

"Princess don't worry," Simon put an arm around her and held her close. "They wouldn't want to hurt a silly archaeologist anyway. And if so, I can take my briefcase and hit those terrorists over the head. Don't worry, I'll always be there for you and Gunter."

He kissed her and lovingly pulled her into an embrace, closing his eyes.  He felt her heartbeat echo, followed by a tiny echo coming deep within her. His warm hand stroked her belly.

"I will," he whispered to his son.
******************************************************************************
The wind mixed with the cool ocean breeze, but Simon didn't seem to mind. He'd never been one who was troubled by the cold. He glanced at the dockworker who was trying to explain something in broken Russian.

"I speak English as well," Simon told him.

The dockworker sighed with relief.

"That is good," his English though accented, flowed better than his Russian. "Russian is difficult to speak."

"I suppose," Simon said. "Russian is my first language. I learned English in school, and eventually went to an American university."

"As I was saying," the dockworker continued. "This is a very interesting artifact, and I'd think you'd like it Mr. Petrikov. There is a legend behind it; an old myth about the gods sending the crown down to earth, and that any king wears it will be blessed with a great power."

"Magic? Great power?" Simon raised an eye skeptically.

"I said it was just a legend," the dockworker said. "So will you buy it?"

Simon stood there, thinking. The wind picked up its speed, bits of snow started to whirl around.
*************************************************************************
"I can't believe you bought it from a dock worker!" Betty exclaimed.

"Yeah, I at first thought it was incredibly shady, but there was something about that crown that I just could not take it."

"Well it looks in good condition if it's supposedly been around for a thousand years," Betty noticed.

"I better hope that this isn't a rip off," Simon picked up the crown. "Even though it might be. The guy said it had magical powers. Probably doesn't. Well if it does---"

He put the crown on his head.

"Look at me! I am Sir Simon Petrikov! Leader of the world!" He began to strut around the room in a very kinglike way. Betty started to giggle.

"I am King! I am King of this whole land! King of ice and snow! Let me hammer you with snowballs!"

Betty giggled even harder.

"And my first decree is that-----"
*********************************************************************
"He's waking up!"

"Shh!"

Simon's eyes slowly opened. The lights were too bright; his body trembled with excruciating pain.  He blinked; there in front of him sat Annabelle, a doctor by her side. He blinked again. The room came into focus. He was in the hospital; an IV hooked to his arm, a cast on his leg. He tried to sit up but found a twisting sensation in his chest.

"Careful now, you don't want to undo the stiches," the doctor said.

"What happened?" Simon weakly asked.

"I don't know," Annabelle grabbed his hand. "You and Betty were attacked."

"Attacked?" His eyes widened.

"I heard a scream last night and I rushed over to see what happened---it was---" Annabelle's voice trailed off, her already pale skin turned an even lighter shade of white.

"Where's Betty?" Simon asked concerned.

"This is about the fourth time this week that a mysterious attack occurred," the doctor tried to change the subject.  "The police are investigating this, do not worry Mr.—"

"Where's Betty?" Simon asked again.

Annabelle blinked; a tear ran down her cheek.

"I think you need some---"

"Where's Betty!?" Simon yelled. Those outside in the hallway froze and looked into Simon's room. There was a very tense pause. Annabelle finally opened her mouth, squeezing Simon's hand even tighter.

"Betty's----Betty's dead," she burst into tears.

"No!" Simon exclaimed, his voice choked up. "She can't be! My princess cannot be dead! Not my princess! What about the baby? What about my Gunter?!"

"They tried!" Annabelle sobbed. "They tried to get him out but it was too late! Oh Simon! I'm so sorry!"

"No---" Simon cried, falling down to the bed. He let out a howl. "NOOO!!!!!"

"Nurse! Come quickly! He's about to pass out!"

He couldn't see through all the tears…

"Hold him down! Hold him down!"

She was gone. The baby was gone. The two people he had loved more than any other had slipped away from his grasp. There would be no wedding, no first time where he would hold his son, no first steps, first babbling words, no hours of play, lullabies to be sung, walks with wife and son hand in hand, no first loose teeth and first days of school, no long conversations with fatherly advice, no first cars and high school graduation, he would never get to tell his son that he loved him. He would never hug him, never kiss him. And he would never get to tell Betty that he loved her, no more kisses to be shared, no more deep embraces, no more of Betty's adoring gaze with her beautiful smile, no more laughter, no more long conversations about science and artifacts, no more playing the keyboard and drums as she sung along, no more running his fingers through her hair as she slept, no more of her sweet caresses….The happy dream he had was over.

"Grab the oxygen mask!"

My princess
I started to watch Adventure Time about a week ago, and I watched alot of the most important episodes. Man is the Ice King's story tragic. I have a theory is that why he calls all the penguins "Gunter" is that when Betty died, she was pregnant, and "Gunter" was the name they were going to name the baby if it were a boy.
Sorry if I made anybody cry :cling:
Hope you liked this.
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avengersfan160's avatar
MY FEELS ARE BROKEN!!!TT_TT