Playing With Fire || z.m

"Did you hear me?"

I know everyone has mixed opinions about the topic I’m bringing up in this chapter but please understand it is entirely fiction. Please keep reading the story and not stop just because you don’t agree. As I said, it’s all fictional so if I get some things wrong.. sorry! 

ELLIE

“Eleanor, what can I help you with?” The doctor asks as I sit uncomfortably in the horrible plastic chair in the GP’s office.  

“Well, you see, the problem is, it’s that, well, my issue, it, I’m, I need to, oh God.” I panic, completely unable to string a bloody sentence together.

“Okay, calm down, take a minute and think about what you need to tell me.” He smiles at me sympathetically.

“I’m pregnant.” I blurt out, shouting at the poor guy. He raises his eyebrows, taken aback.

“Okay,” He’s calm. Why is he so calm? How can he be calm about this? He takes a moment to just look at me and I pray silently that he isn’t a mind reader. I really do not want anybody knowing what is going on in my mental brain at the moment. “Is this good or bad?” He speaks softly.

“Bad. Very bad.” He simply nods and turns to his computer on his large wooden desk and types. What is he typing? And why does he have to bash the keyboard so hard as he types? That is really annoying.

“So tell me Eleanor, do you know how many weeks you are?”

“I think about 4?” He types again. I’m guessing. I have no idea, because I’m too scatty to keep dates like that. Idiot, Ellie. “But I wanted to come and see you as soon as I could.”

“Are you having any symptoms?”

“I fainted at the start of the week. I’ve had slight sickness, sore breasts and just that nasty feeling, you know?” more typing. He’s an older guy, I’d say around mid-fifties, about the same age as my dad although this Doctor is kind of bald. He has a plain white shirt on and black, smart trousers.

“Eleanor,” He turns in his chair to look at me. “You’ve come into my office today with some very big news and you tell me this is bad.” I nod. He pauses for a while and I know what he is going to ask me next.

“I’ve decided what I am going to do. I know that’s what you want to ask me.” He gives me a small smile. “I’ve decided that I would like to terminate my pregnancy.” He nods, understandingly. His calmness is actually starting to piss me off.

“There are many options, Eleanor; I’d like you to think hard about this.”

“I’ve done all the thinking I need to. I haven’t stopped thinking about it, Doctor. Please, I’d like you to refer me to the abortion clinic.”

“Okay,” He says slowly. “I’ll refer you. It will take about 2-4 weeks for you to get an appointment.”

“Thank you very much.” I’m sweating like an absolute pig, is that a symptom or just nerves?

“I’d like you to take some leaflets though; they’re about your options. There is lots of support these days, Eleanor if you decide to keep the baby, you know that, right?”

“Please, Doctor, I am doing so well at keeping it together.” I can’t meet his eye or who knows what will happen to my emotions. “I’d like to get rid of it. I just don’t want to bring a child into this world when I am not ready, emotionally or financially. I am not married or even in a relationship with the father and I don’t think it is fair on the child to be brought into the middle of this situation. I was careless and I do not want my baby growing up to know it was a mistake.”

He nods but reaches into his draw and pulls out several different leaflets and booklets.

“I do understand your choices and I respect your decision but I’d really like you to take these and read through everything.” He shoves the reading material into my hands and I have no choice but to do as I’m told. “How are you in yourself? Do you want me to refer you for counselling? I understand this can be a very hard, stressful and upsetting time.”

“I’m fine, thank you.” I force a smile onto my face, but the Doctor quite obviously isn’t buying it. MORE TYPING! I want to rip the keyboard out of his hands, chuck it on the floor and stamp on it. He seriously needs to stop typing so loudly.

“And the father is okay with your decision?”

Zayn. Zayn doesn’t even know. He knows absolutely nothing. But as Zayn once said ‘what you don’t know can’t hurt’.

“He agrees with me.” I lie through my back teeth. I’m going to hell. I am going to hell for sure. The Doctor nods again.

“I’ll send the referral right now, and you should get a letter with an appointment for the next 2-4 weeks. If you change your mind you can cancel the appointment. You will have a consultation with a nurse or doctor who will talk you through everything, give you a check up, most likely a scan and they will take good care of you.”

“Thank you very much for your help.”

“That’s what I’m here for. Please come and see me if you have any other issues about this, okay?”

“Okay.”

*

“Ellie, did you hear me?” Harry laughs.

“Sorry, I was just a little distracted,” I truthfully tell him. I look at him sat opposite me at the table in a small, unknown café near my house. He has a beanie hat pulled over his head and a red and black plaid shirt on. I don’t know how he hasn’t been spotted to be honest. He looks hot so girls should be staring at him any way, right?

“What’re you thinking about?” He asks and sips his tea. Oh you know, just that I’m booked into abort your friends child. My heart lurches just thinking about it. I think I want to cry, but I just can’t find it in me, I can’t draw the tears out of me and I especially don’t want to cry in front of Harry.

“Oh, nothing!” I grin at him, “You know, just in my own little world!” He grins back at me, accepting my answer and leans back in his chair.

“It’s so nice just sitting here with you, talking about nothing. It’s really nice to not be bombarded with fans or paps.”

“I can imagine.” I fiddle with a packet of sugar on the table in front of me. “Is it really scary then, when you get mobbed?”

“Terrifying!” He scoffs, looking away from me but I appreciate his honestly. He could just shrug it off like its nothing. “I can’t walk anywhere because people are trying to grab me, talk to me, get a photo, you can imagine. Girls sometimes just grab at my clothes or tug my hair or something and it really hurts.” His eyes connect with mine again. “We love our fans to the moon and back, they have got us to where we are today, but,” He looks away again. “Some of them are so obsessive. If they loved us like they claimed they did then would they not want us to be happy and be able to walk down a bloody street?”

“I know what you mean.” I smile at him. We fall into a comfortable silence. It’s nice with Harry, there never is an awkward moment, and we never feel uncomfortable. We sip our teas quietly for a while, just looking out the window.

Harry is such a lovely guy, how can I sit here in front of him pretending everything is normal? How can I sit here and just lie to his face? The sooner I’ve sorted this issue out, the better. I can carry on with life, write Zayn out of my life. Almost. It’s a bit hard when I’m now dating his best friend. I’ll carry on and just be faithful to Harry. There can be no one else.

But that kiss with Zayn the other day.

Oh bloody hell, seriously. What have I got myself into?