Cat's bags had been waiting by the door, packed, for nearly a week. Maternity clothes, baby clothes, books, an iPod chock full of music. Cat's contractions have already started, but she stomachs the pain for her baby girl, singing quietly to her all the way to the hospital. In the emergency room, she is admitted past a hoard of sickly people, a screaming toddler and an elderly woman. The minutes pass like hours, and after she has been put into a bright white room with blinding lights, the obstetrician and Cat's mom and some other people Cat doesn't know yell "push!" encouragingly, while rubbing her stomach and back with gloved hands. After nearly four hours, something slips between Cat's legs like a fish. The doctor pats the something's rear and it screams and suddenly it is being handed to Cat and Cat realizes it's her baby girl; this something is the something she's been waiting for. This is her Audrina Rose, whose perfect rosecolored lips and big blue eyes and thick black curls match her own features and nobody else's. Audrina's eyes, which are that of rounded lapis lazuli, flutter shut and her lips form an O between her chubby cheeks. The memories that will flash across Cat's mind, she hopes from now on, are these ones, the feeling of her daughter's weight in her arms and not her stomach. Not the ones of a stranger violating her sanction, but the weight of repercussions and hope for life.
YOU ARE READING
Twelve.
Short StoryCat, a naive teenage girl navigates the last twelve weeks of her pregnancy, struggling to overcome trauma and uncertainty as the clock counts down to the arrival of her child.
