Black Kisses *18*

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On Saturday, January 8th the day of Sam's 15th birthday, Fern felt...strange. As if she just wanted to give up forever.

At 7 AM, Fern woke up with a jolt. She'd had a horrible dream. In it, Sam and her were at their wedding. Suddenly, there was an explosion and the last vision she'd seen was Sam bleeding to death.

"Fern, the baby," he moaned, just like he'd said in the hallway just as Fern was about to take another punch at Maya.

Fern had awakened to the eerie sound of her baby screaming.

Fern was jolted. Without a single thought, she grabbed her coat and snowboats and ran outside.

It was snowing outside - hard. Fern faintly remembered her parents talking about an insane blizzard the next day. Sam was going to be crushed that this was the weather on his birthday.

A million images triggered in her mind.

The wonderful, amazing sex.

The very first positive pregnancy test.

Crying on the phone.

Jane calling her a slut.

Sam whispering "I'm only 14", crumbling on the inside.

A flying fist at Maya's face.

"Fern...the baby..."

Fern couldn't take it anymore. She continued to trudge forward. She was on the streets, knee deep in snow. There was 0 visibility. No one would be driving in this weather.

Fern tripped and crashed face-first into the snow. There she sobbed. She sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. She didn't care that baby Sam was shivering inside of her, weeping for warmth. She wanted to die. She wanted Sam Jr. to die. She wanted everyone to die.

It was all a mistake. She'd been so stupid to let Maya push her into something she wasn't ready for.

Fern had watched Teen Mom and 16 & Pregnant for the last month, trying to find some help. On TV, EVERYTHING was glamourized. The creators of the shows made teen pregnancies seem like such a great, cool thing. Fern knew that in reality, all of those girls were sobbing as she was now, crying over the childhood they'd never be able to get back. EVER.

All she wanted was to have the freedom to curl up in a ball and hide under her bed drawing spiders and Gothic designs all she wanted. But she had Sam Jr. to think about.

The cold was numbing. She couldn't feel herself anymore. It felt nice to feel dead for a while.

Baby Sam was probably dying from the cold. Good. Let him die.

Slowly, as she thought murderous things about her son, the world faded to black.

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