Mare Moody - [blank]

“I won’t be long,” I whisper gently. I walk out of the door, I peer back in. He has lied back down. A rush of warmth comes over me seeing his peaceful face.

“I love you,” I breathe into the darkness.

I shut the door and turn back to Tabitha. She still looks exhausted, I feel bad for waking her up but I know I need her. If I’m pregnant, if I am going to have a child, I need her by my side more than ever.

“Alright, let’s go,” I sigh. I reach down, grab the water bottle and head towards the door. Tabitha follows.

We walk down the hallway and through my spinning head, the hallway feels smaller than ever. We get in the elevator and when the initial fall begins, I feel my stomach rise and fall heavily. I groan and rub my abdomen. God, I hope I’m not pregnant.

We walk through the lobby and I begin to see people’s eyes on me. I look back them. Momentary faux communication is shared between the strangers and I. Perhaps I was the one who started looking in the first place.

We walk onto the street and into a taxi. I crawl in and breathe. My brain is racing. I don’t want a baby. I’m too much of mess to be a mother. I want my child to grow up with a loving family and have a life of comfort. I want to give them nursery’s like Margaret’s. I want to give them love like Mark. I just can’t do that. I am not able.

Tabitha tells the driver to take us to the nearest drug store. This is setting in. At first, I thought Tabitha was being ridiculous but now that she has pointed out the possibility, I realize the smaller symptoms so much more.

The cab sways and I can feel my body move with the motion of traffic. The streets are brightly lit by the sun. Although this escapade began with darkness, light now flows through the situation. The cab comes to a stop and Tabitha gets out quickly. I match her urgency.

I catch up to her and walk by her side.

“It’s fine,” I say to her. I say it to myself too. I am keeping my external physique relaxed but inside, I am tense. I know if I show my unease that it will only make her worry grow.

She nods her head and bustles off towards the farthest aisle. I struggle to keep up but when I do, she is holding a box with a pregnancy test on it. Her hands are shaking. She is getting progressively more anxious.

I take the test out of her hand and pull her into a hug. She wraps her arms around me. I don’t know why she is so upset. I know she worries but her react to this confuses me.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

She pulls out of our hug and looks up at me. Tears are developing in her eyes.

“I just don’t know what will happen with you,” she says sadly, “we lost touch for five years and I know if you have a baby, you’ll leave and I don’t want you to get hurt again.”

Her words enter my heart like a dagger slowly pushing through my flesh and slicing into my heart. The incision is so precise. I look at her. I need confidence right now.

“I will be fine,” I say softly. My heart throbs. “Let’s go buy this test.”

She nods her head and we begin to talk to the cashier. As I stand in line, Tabitha begins to calm down. She has real trust in me. I feel a responsibility that I never have before. She actually believes me that I am going to get my life in order if I am having a child. Regardless of the potential pregnancy, I should get my life in order as soon as possible.

This is because you are a whore.

I let the thought flow through me. If I just let it go through my head, it doesn’t fight back. I am learning.

“Next in line, please.”

I begin walking. Now the anxiety is hitting me. My legs are wobbling as I walk towards the checkout counter. I place the box on the counter and my eyes glue to it. I don’t want a baby.

I begin to hand money to the cashier but Tabitha pushes my hand down and puts her hand out with force. The cashier looks at me and then back to her. She grabs the money from Tabitha and puts the test into a bag. I reach for the bag and look back at Tabitha. Her eyes are still sad but she has a smug grin.

I chuckle and walk through the store again. Before we get to the doors, I look at her worried yet again.

“I don’t want to take this at Noah’s.”

She thinks about what I said and immediately agrees. I don’t want to scare him unnecessarily.

“We can go to my house.” She smiles.

I nod my head and we head back into the street. Rain has started to drizzle over the city. The small droplets fall in rhythm and splatter on the ground, spreading water across the pavement. I look up at the sky. Water pours down my face. My eyes squeeze shut and my face tenses. I used to love water but now, when it rains harshly, I want to get out of it. I put my head down and walk quickly to the the sidewalk. No taxis are anywhere to be seen.

Tabitha whistles with her fingers but still no taxi appears. We stand in the cool rain for a hot second. I look at her. She seems to have calmed down but the rain makes her look as if she is still crying. A heavy feeling builds in my body. I feel sympathy. I don’t want to cause her to feel this way.

I see a flash of yellow driving down the street. Through rain it is hard to see but Tabitha whistles and throws her hand out. The car slows down and stops in front of us.

We get in. The rain has drenched us from head to toe. I can feel the moisture go through my skin and penetrate the nerves on my fingertips. I wipe my hands off on my jeans in an attempt to dry them even the slightest bit.

After Tabitha calls out her address, here we are sitting in yet another taxi cab with silence echoing in the cabin.

Tabitha is still very tired and I can tell. Her head leans back onto the seat and her eyes are closed to the world outside. I wish I could feel that much peace. The ride seems to last forever. I hold the brown plastic bag anxiously. My hand has a firm grip on the handles. It sweats onto the synthetic material. I can’t let go even if I wanted to. The longer I hold it, the heavier it gets. The weight of my decisions manifests into a physical form.

When the car slowly comes to a stop, I feel the bag jolt forward and I am pulled with it. It has so much control over my actions. I open the door and carry the bag up to the entrance. Tabitha walks in front of me and unlocks the door. I b-line it to the bathroom. The stairs seem stepper than ever and the hallway longer than ever. I walk into the door of the white bathroom and slowly, I let my grip on the bag free. The plastic left an imprint through the palm of my hand. Now the memory will linger longer than I would like.

Tabitha walks in through the open door. She comes over to the sink and puts her hand on my back.

“Maybe you aren’t,” she says, “Don’t get too upset yet.”

I nod slowly. She faintly smiles at me and walks out. The door softly closes behind her.

I pull the box out of the bag and I avoid looking at the design on the box because I know that it will cause me to hesitate further. I quickly tear open the box and pull the thin test out. The tip is covered by a blue plastic sleeve. In the center, a little screen is etched into the frame. On this screen, my fate lies. Please.

I walk over to the toilet, pull down my pants and pull off the cap. The end looks so daunting. I lean down and attempt to pee on the thin stick. This proves difficult but after a slight struggle, I am successful. I pull my pants back up and stand up.

I put the cap back on and wait. I place it on the counter and open the door. Tabitha sits against the wall in the loft, holding a book. She is intently reading. I am starting to realize that reading is her way of destressing.

She sees me in the doorway and immediately puts her bookmark in the book and firmly shuts it. She places it on the bookshelf to her left and walks over to me.