Parallels

Parallels - ch. 4

Chapter Four

January 4, 1980

"One more push...come on...you can do it," the doctor cajoled her.

Maggie jerked her head left then right, sure she didn't have any more strength in her for another one. The room spun in an assortment of colors, whatever they shot into her back took away most of the pain, but she wished Greg were around to give her something to take away her thoughts.

Even through the pressure ripping her in half, with this baby in her trying to break free, she couldn't control her random thoughts. She knew once the child was born her problems would escalate. Her parents wanted to be the perfect grandparents—but only in show. They made it perfectly clear she was to bring their grandchild around only when summoned, and they would supply the clothes that both mother and child would wear in front of their friends. But after the performance was over they would be sent back to the ramshackle trailer park that Maggie called home ever since she said I do... Not that she actually muttered the words, but her mother assured the preacher that her tears were ones of joy, her silence a result of hormones and happiness.

Those days would be the easy part of her life...

Chris hadn't let up on the heavy hand just because her tummy rounded with his child inside her. No, if anything, the daily reminder that he knocked up the wrong girl infuriated him. He kept his punishments to all parts of her body except the belly region. Maggie believed even though he hated that he wasn't in the manor on the hill were he thought he'd be, the neighborhood her parents stuck them in was still better than the slums he came from. Plus, the fact he was now free from his father's wrath... Well, it was always better to be the one inflicting the pain instead of receiving it, yes?

Maggie was getting very accustomed to that word...pain. That she could handle, but being in her mind, lucid...

Damn she hated that.

Pleasure and pain didn't matter in her life anymore. Obliviousness was what she wanted.

Chris doled out plenty of pain. In fact, after the wedding and her parents made good on their promise—threat—to purchase them a dilapidated trailer off The Boulevard—a notorious street on the wrong side of town—Chris's punishments were more frequent and severe. He'd drink all morning, sleep in the afternoon, then get up and go to his gas station attendant job for the night shift, bitching the whole way about how the world did him wrong.

Greg—on the other hand—thought she kept coming back for the pleasure he physically gave her. That was where he went wrong; she didn't care about the sex. Sex meant nothing. No matter the position, orgasms eluded her. Not that Greg put much effort toward her needs during their dalliances, which suited her fine. All she cared about was the fix spreading her legs would get her. Not happy with the small amounts he shared, she started sneaking stuff out of her parents' house whenever she went over. Maggie knew her parents well. The items she stole from them—things ranging from crystal knick knacks to jewelry her mother stowed away and forgot about—convinced Greg to give her his portion of whatever they imbibed in at the time, also. Double portions guaranteed that the numbness would engulf her quickly.

For a blessed afternoon she could forget the hell that her life had become. An escape that in truth, she understood might damage the baby, but this child ruined her life...why shouldn't she repay the favor?

Soon though she'd run out of stuff she could swipe from her parents. When that happened... Well, Greg hinted that he had some friends who would pay to have a few minutes with her. Perhaps she would...

But that was nothing she could think about while her brain was functioning without the help of the drugs. Decisions like that shouldn't ever be made while sober