What Remains

Chapter 25

Beneath The Mask
I will love you into flame.

I rush to the bathroom, and topple over the open toilet bowl. My mouth spews out these disgusting liquids as I practically shove my head into the toilet. These putrid greens, oranges, and yellows swirl in livid motions, and it just keeps me going as I accidentally let myself look. I clench my eyes shut as my stomach lurches one last time, and I just let it all out. The wretch is loud, and at this point I'm surprised Kenny isn't here yet. I flush the toilet, then let out an exasperated sigh.
Kenny— oh, fuck. 2 weeks ago, that night.. I messed up. I messed up bad. I lean back on my heels, and look down at my stomach as I slowly wrap my arms around it. No, no... I haven't had my period either. My lip trembles, and my eyes blow wide. I can't believe I... I can't believe I let myself accept that. I wasn't thinking straight, I.. this isn't my fault,
and it's not his fault either.
"Quinn?" Kenny asks, and I whip my head around.
I shove a piece of toilet paper in my hands, and rub my lips with it. "I'm fine," I shake my head, "Just go back to bed." I can't look at him... he can't see me like this.
I feel a hand press on my upper back, and his shadow lowers as he kneels to my level. "I don't want to leave you here like this."
What can I do? He won't listen, and I don't feel like fighting him off. I lightly rub my thigh, "Okay." I take a deep breath, and another, then one more. Slow and steady. Drawn. "Can you.. grab me some water, please?" I plead, without looking up from the toilet bowl. Almost reluctantly, his footsteps dissipate into the hall behind me. The only sound I can hear is the wind rushing through the walls, fluid, quick. My heart is thumping in my chest hard, quicker and quicker the longer I'm submerged in his absence. I inhale. I can't stay here. I exhale. I promised myself I would leave— I betrayed that. I inhale again, then I look down at my stomach. If I... I can't stay here. I exhale again. I was so close... if we had called the cops seconds earlier— I inhale deeply, feeling the air enter my nose as my lungs inflate. I can make it. I just have to wait a little longer.
"Water." Kenny hands it off to me as he enters through the door frame. I suppress a shocked flinch at his sudden presence.
I exhale shakily and drawn, then I take the cup into my pale hand. I bring the glass up to my lips, and take a small sip. A foul bile-like taste swishes in my mouth that I spit out after pausing. Then, I take another drink and this time I swallow.
There's a long silence before Kenny leans closer with a hand balancing his upper body on the sink counter. "Do you think you're..?" He trails off, but not before glancing at my stomach. I know what he means.
I can't tell him. This time, I will keep that promise. "No. It, um, happens sometimes with the, y'know." I point to my head, alluding to what he calls my 'illness'. Puking isn't a symptom of the hallucinations— not for me, at least. But he wouldn't know.
"Are you sure?" Kenny asks, a little quieter this time. I nod, and finally look up at him to see his widened hazel eyes, and his dark wrinkled brows; he's worried.
I feel bad, and I resent myself for that. "I will be okay," I remark sincerely as I reach up to grasp his hand. He takes mine before I can do so much as brush a finger over his bare skin. His palm is clammy and hot. "It's just an illness." Ugh, god, I hate lying like that.
Kenny breaks eye contact, and as he does I see him take in a large breath; he's stressed, and it's making me stressed.
I purse my lips guiltily before perking up. "What time is it?" I ask softly.
"It's just after 8." Kenny answers, slightly biting his lip before glancing at me.
I jump up, and take his other hand as I rock on my heels. "Well, I'm empty after all that.. you know. How about breakfast?" I announce with a smile to try and lighten up the mood, "Let's go downstairs."

This is what I have to do; I have to be uppity, happy. The truth is, within those 2 weeks, Kenny got.. I don't even know how to categorize it. Just— it's not simply being 'protective' anymore. He won't leave me alone, and the second I show even the slightest sign of being 'off', he's all over me. Whenever we walk by an exit door, he's always walking on the side nearest to it. He's been monitoring me. It all makes sense now when I give it thought; it's like that day, on his birthday, something clicked in his head. He clearly suspects I'm pregnant. It's not wrong, I know that now, but he doesn't know for sure. And if he does, he can't possibly think we can raise a baby here.
I fucked up so bad.
It's too late for me to take an easy way out; I had 4 chances, and I missed all of them. This time, I need to get myself out in my own way. I don't want to make Kenny mad, not while I'm in this state. The most I could do is try to trigger myself into an episode so bad that Kenny has to take me to get my medications. If I do that, I can go home and call the cops— I can still run if I need to. I can scream, I can do anything. I can get myself out if I try hard enough.