A year ago, you married the love of your life. he was your one and only, you're sure of it. His name; Arthur Kirkland. You rememebered when he laid you down on the bed wedding night and called you "Miss _______ Kirkland". You loved him dearly. He was your first love and you were his.
Two months later, you found out you were pregnant. You thought the Brit might be mad but no. Arthur was so excited he called everyone he could to tell them about it. Even Francis. You began to read parenting books and occasionally you would be napping and wake up to your husband whispereing to your belly. It was probably the cutest thing you've ever seen.
You were eight months along now, getting ready to pop, when the worst happened. You miscarriaged. You remember Arthur breaking down right there in the doctor's office. After that, you spent days in the garden, cutting flowers and burning them. Arthur would have to run out and calm you down. It was the lowest point of your marriage. You and Arthur kept trying for another child. The both of you despretely wanted one. But everytime you tried, you thought of your unborn child and broke down.
About four monthes after the miscarriage, you found out you couldn't have children. Arthur discussed adopting but you always said it wouldn't be the same. You argued a lot at this point in time. He would leave for days on end before returning with apology presents. Even if you started the fight. Your relationship began to improve dramatically after a while. You were inseparable. Like old times. The two of you rarely argued about adoption or anything child related and before long you had a job as a elemantary school teacher. It filled the hole in your heart that craved a child of your own.
A year passed before you went to the doctor again. He diagnosed you with a rare disease that was very hard to treat and at the time, had no cure. You immediatly got transferred to a special hospital's for surgery and such. Arthur even packed up and moved so he was closer. He quit his job and began a business so he could work while visiting you in the hospital. You didn't mind if he was behind a computer all day just as long as he was with you.
So there you are now, in a hospital bed, watching your husband type away on the computer. You smiled at how serious he looked. Arthur looked up at you and smiled, "How do you feel, love?"
"Fine." you replied, tugging at the tubes attached to your arm slightly. The British man got up and set his laptop on the table beside him. He sat next to you on the bed and sighed.
Everything was really stressing him out. You could tell from the bags under his eyes the worry lines forming around his lips and forehead. You leanded foreward and layed your head on his back, rubbing his thigh in a compforting fashion. He looked up at you and smiled wearily. You both new your days were numbered. Sometimes you'd wake up to Arthur crying by your bedside.
He turned towards you and kissed you lovingly, "I love you, ________."
You began to respond when you felt a horrible pain shoot through your body, "A-Arthur....."
"What's wrong, love?" he sat up straighter. You heard the monitor start beeping rapidly as your breathing increased. Arthur pushed the emergency button about a hundred times. "________! _________, hang in there!"
You layed on the bed, your eyes fluttering. There was a bright, white light floating above you. It was so bright yet you didn't squint like when you look at the sun. You saw a hand reach towards you and heard laughing and cheering as you stretched your hands towards it.
"Arthur, look at the light...." you murmured.
His eyes widened in panic, "No! ________ please, stop messing around!"
You shook your head weakly, a smile on your face as doctors rushed in. Everything was in slow motion. Arthur clutched your hand, tears pouring down his face as his lips moved but no noise came out. Something finally snapped. All you could see what light.
"Welcome home," a voice chirped cheerfully.
Arthur stood at ________'s grave. He smiled and set down a bouquet of (favorite flower) beside your grave. All he ever thought about was that big grin on your face as you made your exit.
Arthur turned around to see a little girl with (h/c) hair and bright (e/c) eyes. She wore an oversized white shirt and looked fairly young. A new country...? Arthur thought. She looks like ________.
"Well, hello!" Arthur kneeled down beside her. "What's your name, dear?"
"________." she whispered shyly.
Bewildered, Arthur glanced at the grave then back at the small girl. He cleared his throat, "Well, where are your parents?"
The girl shrugged and looked down, kicking at the grass.
"Well I'm England." he smiled. "But you may call me Arthur."
He extended his hand and she shook it willingly.
Arthur smiled wider, "Why don't we take you back to my house and we figure yourself out, hm?
The small girl pondered on this before nodding. Arthur took her hand, looked back at your grave once more, and began his way back to the gates.