Anna's Final Letter - Version II (On Hiatus)

Chapter 1

A/N: So this is the new version of Anna's Final Letter. I've got a paper copy on me so I don't have an excuse not to edit when my Mum is on the laptop ;L

I hope this is better than Verson 1, and I would love it if constructive criticism was made on at least some of the chapters, and for maybe votes on the ones that are ok?

Lauren :) <3

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Chapter 1:

I stared back at my solemn expression in the mirror. My face looked tired and worn, and my left arm was mostly covered with nasty bruises that were yellow, blue, green and purple. I couldn't help but think of my mum, who I looked exactly alike to, and how she had run away from everything all those years ago.

Did she ever think of me? Did she ever wonder what the consequences of her leaving were?

The answer to both of the questions was 'Probably not'.

　

I fell backwards onto my bed, the springs slightly squeaking, reminding me that I needed a new one. After a long day at school, it would be nice to come back to a luxurious bed.

　

I turned on my iPod and checked the date, thinking back to the last period I had and counting the days overdue.

　

It had been more than 3 weeks. But I hadn't had unprotected sex, so I couldn't possibly be pregnant, could I?

I had been sick the previous morning, and I couldn't shake the nauseated feeling I had. But morning sickness is for pregnant women, but I couldn't be pregnant, could I?

Puzzled, confused and curious, I tied my chestnut-brown hair into a ponytail with one of the hairbands that was laying on my dresser nearby and ran down the stairs, glancing into the office where my father was doing his paperwork, his face scrunched into a wrinkled frown. He rarely smiled. He didn't spare me a glance as I went down the next lot of stairs, and padded my way over to the front door - grabbing some money and my keys on the way- where I pulled my boots on.

Despite my need to rest, I had to get up and out of the door. There was only one thing I could do.

- 15 minutes later -

By the time the automatic doors of the pharmacy opened in front of me, I had worked myself into an absolute frenzy.

I walk into the store as normally and calmly as I can; I don't want to attract any attention. My heart pounds loudly in my chest as I make my way towards the section I never thought I'd have to purchase anything from until I was at least 25 years old. I'm only 17. My shaking hand reaches out for the pregnancy test, as I try to stay unnoticed. I don't want anyone I know to see me. I quickly pay, avoiding the disapproving gaze of an older cashier, whose hair was turning a dull grey, and her expression had changed from a kind and sunny expression to that of an old badger as soon as she saw what I was purchasing. I can't help but hope she feels satisfied with my obvious discomfort and shame. I didn't ask for this.

While walking home, I think about the endless possibilities. If I am pregnant, would I keep it or have an abortion? Would Blake stay by my side or would he run like a lot of teenage dads apparently did? To be honest, I was petrified of the prospect of having a baby. Would it be a boy or a girl, or maybe even twins? What would I name them? What if I miscarried or if something went horribly wrong? I tell myself that I may not even be pregnant, and the crazy thoughts die down.

- Arrival home -

I briskly make my way to the kitchen, and swing open the fridge, grabbing two of the litre bottles of water that I keep in there. I drink all of one and half of the other, refilling the empty one and placing the half-full one back into the fridge.

Answering the 'call of nature', I hurry into the pristine white bathroom, locking the door briskly behind me and ripped open the small cardboard box which could so easily change everything. I realised that the bathroom had clearly just been cleaned, though my father is too lazy to clean and the maid only comes in on Mondays. It's Saturday. But I have other, bigger things to worry about than why the bathroom is so clean.

- A few minutes later -

I run my hand through my hair as I stare down at the test in disbelief. The bold, blue line. I was pregnant.