Predator

Chapter Eight

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Spots dance across my vision; everything's hazy and my eyes can't quite seem to focus on anything. In fact, it's all blurry. Yet there's a warm glow to it, and I feel a sense of peace.

I am suddenly aware of a gentle percussion playing in my ears. There are soft beats from a drum that remind me only of a stereotypical, cheesy 1980s ballad. Wait a minute...this is a stereotypical, cheesy 1980s ballad! My favorite duet, it's...wait, what is it? Why can't I think of it?

"My love,

There's only you in my life.

The only thing that's right."

A man's voice is singing, somebody familiar but I can't remember who. He has a beautiful voice, it's warm and soothing and it flows like honey. Then, despite the fact that I can't seem to recall anything, I start singing along. It's a duet, is all I know, and this is my part.

"My first love,

You're every breath that I take.

You're every step I make."

I feel arms rested around my middle, and consciously I realize that mine are wrapped around the person's neck. It's the singer, I'm sure of it. My head rests against his broad chest; slowly it occurs to me that I'm dancing with this person.

Just as the chorus is starting up, my vision slowly comes into focus and I tilt my head up to see who it is. He gazes back down at me with a serene expression.

It's...him? What the-

Suddenly he's gone. There's a sticky feeling in my throat, and I realize I'm looking at the underside of my duvet. Oh, it was another bad dream. But wait a minute, that wasn't a bad dream at all! That was actually nice, especially compared to what usually occupies them. What was it about again? I was singing and dancing with-

What the hell?

Why would I dream that?! I hate Mr. Schuester, I would never think of him in that way! I mean, at least not after what happened. After what he did to me. I'm never going to forgive him for that, and I will definitely never feel that way again. Maybe I'm just going insane. Or maybe when I looked at him yesterday it just reminded me of how I felt.

Oh, what am I worrying about? It's normal to realize the possibility of romantic connection between yourself and the father of your child, right? It doesn't mean that there is one. Okay, that's all I'm doing. I'm realizing that in a typical situation, two people having a baby are usually together romantically, and I can't help but draw a connection. It's nothing.

I begrudgingly slide off of my bed, my eyelids still heavy. I used to have so much energy that I hardly even needed sleep. Now it seems that no matter how much sleep I get, I'm still tired. Maybe it's the pregnancy.

Pregnancy. God, that's still such a hard word for me to process. Just the fact that there's another person inside of me is just...woah. It doesn't seem real. I'm going to be a mother in less than a year, a mother! And to top it off, I haven't the slightest clue about what to do about it! It's become pretty clear to me that I'm leaning toward keeping it, although my dreams would be soiled. Quinn told me the other day that she's giving up her baby, she even knows the family already. I'm fairly certain that I could never bring myself to do that.

Then again, keeping it means staying in Lima.

Baby? Or New York?

Would I even be a good mother? How am I supposed to know how to be one, I never had one of my own! And I can't stay in Lima, I've dreamed about New York my entire life! Am I really going to give up everything I've ever worked for to have my rapist's baby?!