50I stared at myself in the mirror, absorbed in the image that appeared the same but felt so different. I stood in front of the full length mirror that was hanging on the inside of my wardrobe and in each hand I held the ends of my t-shirt, which I had pulled up to rest beneath my chest. I knew I looked rough. My skin was blotchy, feeling stretched tight over my bones, and my eyes were puffy and irritated due to hours of crying and my hair fell in hazardous, tangled waves around my face. But I didn't care. I wasn't focused on that. Instead, my gaze seemed trapped on the bronzed, smooth skin that covered my flat lower stomach. The outside was so normal, but the inside so changed. My body felt like a catalyst, not just for this…new life…but for the whirlpool of emotions that seemed to be continuously reacting inside of me to cause physiological and psychology affects. Just as I had sat years before, as my science teacher showed us images of the universe as it expanded Earth and my brain tried to get to terms with the idea of how one human life was so miniscule in comparison…I couldn't seem to grasp the truth of what I knew. Pregnant. A much more hard-hitting, life-changing realisation.
My eyes wondered over the expanse of skin again, almost seeking a change or mutation. Right now, right there a baby was growing inside of me. An image of cells seemed to repeating flash into my minds eye, followed by an image of a much larger foetus, more human shaped with the head cradled down around the pelvis and lastly an image of a crying, screaming baby. I couldn't seem to stop the images, nor ignore them. This was my reality; this was my consequence. And I was terrified.
What did I know about babies? Oh sure, I had looked after cousins temporarily but I knew that was nothing compared to actually raising a child. The responsibility, the 24-7 care, and the knowledge that everything you did or anything you taught them was going to shape this person. And it wasn't just that. I kept on thinking of bottles and diapers and sick and waking up at three in the morning to screeching cries. How small and fragile I knew they were. My week at the hospital seemed to be throwing images and acknowledgements at me again and again. All those mothers and new born babies.
I couldn't do that. I was seventeen. What could I teach a child about when I had barely experienced enough of life myself? I couldn't be a good mother yet. When I had envisioned children, I had always dreamed of the stories I could tell them, of the things that I had seen or countries and places I had been to. Imagined telling them of my experiences at school and university as they, in turn, began to experience them. But I had never done those things. I had never explored other countries or gone to university. I felt like a child again, with no awareness of the world beyond the shop down the road and with everything to learn.
And what about my life and my dreams? I couldn't go to university if I had a baby. I couldn't go out with my friends like I do now. I couldn't travel the world. I couldn't begin a career for years. The list continued and the consequences of my pregnancy seemed never ending. Everything I would lose if I had this baby. And the right thing to do is kill this baby to gain them? The painful thought echoed inside me and I lifted my gaze to see the deep confusion expressed in my eyes.
My thoughts twisted and churned until they finally settled on one agonising thought. Kayden and the twisted, hard expression that had enclosed his features as he had stared at me. Oh, God he had seemed angry from the moment he had seen me in his house, which had only seemed to darken after I'd told him about my appointment. Is this how it would be from now on? Was anger and cold distance all I could expect from Kayden now? The memory from weeks ago in Jackson's car, "You've realised you want him" felt like a direct and painful hit now. Because it was true and I was bombarded with thoughts and memories as I processed all the things we had done together over the years that had resulted in this attraction I felt for my brother's best friend. As I envisioned our confrontation earlier today, I knew any hope or mirage of us together was destroyed. We had fucked up too much to go back.
Shaken, I slowly let go of my t-shirt and let it fall to cover my stomach. Would he even come on Thursday? It had nearly killed me to go over there. Everything inside me had screamed to avoid the situation, an almost perverted survival instinct to evade the pain that I knew was coming. But I'd realised that more than I needed to survive that moment, I needed to survive what I was going to do in two days time. And to me, I had needed Kayden to help me do that. He was the only one who could truly understand what I was feeling. The turmoil, the worry and the fear. I had imagined the Kayden I had known for years, holding my hand or comforting me. Instead that had been twisted and all that had greeted my plea had been anger and arguments. For a moment, I allow myself to think of the feel of Kayden's arms around me and the sharp relief I had felt as his warmth had seemed to calm the emotions inside me. It had been so fleeting, but it had screamed to me what I already knew. I needed him. Neither of us could change the damaging circumstances of what we would be bringing a baby into, but both of us could do this…appointment…together. I had needed us to do it together.
Once again, I felt the prick of on-coming emotion at the back of my eyes. The knowledge that we weren't together, rather a union of one night that was never meant to happen formed a cloud of despair. I turned swiftly and moved to my bed. The bed covers were unmade and wrinkled due to the hours I had laid there. I had collapsed, in tears, onto the bed as soon as I'd arrived home. The memory of driving away from Kayden and the words we had said was a blur of tangled thoughts and emotions. I climbed into the covers, their comfort surrounding me and almost cocooning me against everything. I still wore the jeans and striped t-shirt I had thrown on earlier and their warmth felt like another layer of protection.
Laying my head down, my eyes caught on the picture frame on my bed side table. A collage of photos of family and friends looked back at me. The smiling faces and varying moments captured by the camera. I closed my eyes against the thoughts that the pictures produced in me. I imagined the anger from Noah, the disappointment from my mother and all the whispers and murmurs that would be made about me at school. And not just them, but the people over the years as they saw me and my child and things they would thing of me; young, foolish, irresponsible. I wasn't ready for that, and nor was Kayden. So how could I put a child thought that? The thoughts were repeatedly crowding every crevice of my mind, shifting from one into another at a rapid speed as I re-thought everything again and again. Until finally and exhausted, I escaped into the emptiness of sleep.
XXXX
Her body was small and delicate, encased in a pale all-in-one. Her eyes were closed in sleep, her body peaceful and resting as she lay upon the sofa cushions. Soft, brown hair crowned the top of her small head and fine dark eyelashes fluttered against her skin above her cheeks. At the back of my mind, I knew that she had bright turquoise blue eyes that were startling against the slightly bronzed hue of her skin. Her smooth, perfect skin. Joy and love seemed to fill me at the sight of her. Two friends, unknown, stood above me where I sat on the sofa. They starred in awe as they marvelled at the beautiful baby girl that was my daughter. She was just a few days old and had never met her father. The information seemed natural to my dream self. She was perfection. And beautiful. And mine. I couldn't stop smiling down at her and the moment was enveloped in happiness.
Suddenly, a loud, deep sound seemed to vibrate the whole room. A continuous bass that intruded on the peace. I watched as my daughters small face changed, and twisted as she began to wake. Upset and confused, she instinctively cried. Loud, encompassing wails that rivalled the disturbing noise. I picked her up quickly, something easing inside of me as I felt the small weight and warmth of her body rest against mine. Cradling her head into my shoulder, I roamed my eyes around us to seek out the source of that destructive sound. My baby was crying, my baby was scared and I had to protect her. I had to protect her from everyone.
"Please." I cried out. "Please stop. You're hurting my baby. My baby…"
I woke up with a start. The fact that the room had darkened filtered through my brain as I tried to reach a conscious balance. The dream clung to the edges of my mind, the images unsettling to my already fragile emotions. My baby…
A deep, vibrating rattle suddenly saturated the room and I looked up to see the flashing light of my mobile atop the bedside table. The noise from the dream, I dimly realised. With measured movements, I pushed down the duvet and sat up just as the noise stopped. A text. Reaching out, I grabbed my phone as I read the time on the digital clock beside it; the time was half eight. Resting against the headboard, I opened my phone to the have the screen display the bright information that I had eight missed calls. I clicked on the view button, and felt my chest compress as I read Kaydens name. The first call was timed at just gone seven. Weary, I clicked back to now see that I also had six text messages. With the image of my daughter with turquoise blue eyes resonating, I read the latest message received.
PLEASE PICK UP THE PHONE. I'M SORRY. I'M SORRY ABOUT EARLIAR. I WAS IN SHOCK. BUT YOU KNOW WE NEED TO TALK SO DON'T JUST IGNORE THIS. K.
The message felt like a kick to the chest. His apology was almost unexpected, as well as the idea that he had been trying to get a hold of me for the last hour and a half. How long had I been asleep for? On the other hand, something inside of my flared bright in anger as I realised he thought I was ignoring him, his calls and the whole situation. I'd been doing nothing but not ignore the pregnancy since I'd found out. It was all I thought about.
Quickly, I read through the rest of the messages, which all seemed to be variances of the same thing. Expanding from the first message; PICK UP THE PHONE, TEHYA; to the last. What if he called again? I tried to decide if I could bear talking to him. I didn't want to argue. I didn't want to go round and round with what and why. I had made the decision and made the appointment. It was too late to go over options again and I didn't know if I could. I was too tired, emotionally and physically, to go through it all again. I could admit that maybe I had been in the wrong to have the conversation with Jackson instead of Kayden, but I couldn't change that now. So I turned off my phone.
A/N: I'm reading over this story and I'm horrified at all the mistakes. I'm sorry it has taken so long to update but inspiration and exams have really kept me away from writing. I know this chapter isn't that long but I hope you enjoy it. Thank you to everyone that has suscribed :) and everyone who is reading. Reviews will be very welcome. Hope everyone is having a great summer, watchmehunt xx