I was supposed to go run with Aaron (not the guy from work... it's a long story) early today, get up around eight. Instead, I sleep in. Big surprise there, huh?

The sound of my cell phone ringing wakes me up. I see on the caller ID that it is Dud, and so I pick up in a hurry, trying to sound upbeat and awake. (I was neither of the two, of course.) Imagine my shock and concern to hear her sob out my nickname on the other end.

"�P-Piojito?"

I freeze. "Dud? What's wrong?"

This couldn't be good, and a million scenarios raced through my mind at once, all of them involving Alexis acting like a total ass, or perhaps his family. I prepared myself to get angry at these people I've never met.

"My baby, my baby, Piojito! My baby's gone!"

"Huhwhat?!" I couldn't have heard right. That didn't even make sense. Angel? Was he hurt? Would he need surgery again? But she didn't call Angel "her baby"; that's what she called...

Shit. But that didn't make sense either!

Except it was. And it did.

My sister lost her baby, the new neice or nephew I was going to have. The baby died inside her, its tiny heart stopped beating, it stopped moving and growing and leeching and all that shit I mentioned before... and just died...

That was this morning. As usual, I had to be the bearer of bad news to my parents. The good thing was that 'Apa was over at the house this morning, what with the remodeling and shit, so I didn't have to repeat myself. I got together with them outside beneath the cloudy sky and told them that their second grandchild had just passed away, and that their daughter was in pain more terrible than any physical ailment. 'Ama cried. If anyone, she knows what it is to lose a child before they have a chance to see the world, breathe for the first time. She miscarried twice before she could have my sister and me. I would've had two older brothers: Juan Raul, who'd be in his thirties by now, and Luis Leonardo, who'd be a year older than Dud. Pifas, as usual, tried to be strong, and shrug it off, the way I do, but his voice cracked terribly when he called his daughter on the phone and heard her dismayed sobbs. After he hung up with her he walked away from 'Ama and me, morose and forlorn. I know he cried when he thought no one was looking. That's just the way he is.

I feel a bit dead, but not enough to where there is no pain. How I wish I could comfort my sister right now... I hate feeling this helpless. There is nothing I can do, nothing, and that kills me inside, it kills me.