Unexpected

Broken Glass

I open several windows in the apartment before sitting down on the couch.  I'm more than happy to be enjoying the beautiful night alone in the apartment. Daniel and Andy left soon after they got up to dance a few songs. I don’t even want to know what they are planning on doing but I have a pretty good idea from the expressions on their faces and their body language. Gavin was still swamped at the bar so I just left. No use in me sitting around in a bar alone all night. The baby would prevent any man from coming near me and I’m not looking for a relationship anyway. Too much to think about.

I put my hand on my stomach, looking down. The baby. That’s what I have to worry about. I don’t even think I want the baby. I’ve already researched several adoption agencies but none of them caught my eye. That was when I first found out I was pregnant. Now that it’s progressing and everything is happening so fast, I’m even more confused. This is my flesh and blood growing inside me but at the same time I’m not ready for a baby. I should love the little one growing inside of me but I’m more uneasy than anything else. Staying here with Gavin and raising a baby would just be unfair to him. I’m already acting like a bottom feeder as it is. I’m living in his apartment, eating his food, and using his utilities rent free. I sing at the bar for him when he asks or when I’m in the mood but I still feel like I’m bottom feeding. Bringing a baby into that situation wouldn’t be ideal. Getting a job right now isn’t an option considering I’ll just have to leave in a few months. I still have a decent chunk of money left over from when I left the Scotch mansion but it wouldn’t be enough to get me through until I can find a job. I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place.

My mood shifts instantly. I feel the sudden urge to bawl my eyes out and break something at the same time. I pick the safer option, tears pouring from my eyes. I stand up abruptly, in desperate need of a tissue. In the process, I knock a glass off the coffee table. It shatters on the floor.

Looks like I broke something after all.

I blow my nose and walk into the kitchen, throwing away the tissue and grabbing a towel to clean up the water. I go back over to the mess, moving the glass shards out of the way and into a pile so I can address the water first. I press the towel down, soaking up the spilled water. Thankfully it was only a small glass and one towel cleans it up just fine. I toss it into the sink before returning to clean up the glass. I carefully put all the shards into my hand before doing one last survey of the surrounding area, including under the nearby furniture. Once I’m satisfied that I have all the glass, I walk over to the trash can, throwing the pieces in. I reach into the sink to grab the towel. Since it’s been on the floor, it’s obviously time it got washed. So that the water doesn’t drip everywhere, I decide to wring it out a little. I twist the fabric in my hands tightly, squeezing out a majority of the water. I drop the towel and jump back when I feel a sharp pain in my hand. I look down to see a small piece of glass sticking out of the soft skin below my thumb. I use my nails to pluck it out, releasing the blood. I stick my hand under the faucet, washing away the blood in hopes to get a good look at the cut. It’s not bad at all. I shut off the water and blood continues oozing out of my hand. I close my fist gently, pressing my middle finger against the cut as I rush to the bathroom. I open the vanity drawer where the first aid supplies are, pulling out a bandage. I make sure to put the pad of the bandage right over the cut, smoothing it down onto my skin. I examine my hand, satisfied with my work. I rinse my hand the best I can, getting off the blood before drying my hands on a towel.

All this has given me time to reevaluate my situation and confuse me more. The only conclusion I’ve reached is that I need a day or so away from here. I need to clear my head and think. I shut off the lights and walk into the bedroom, flicking the lights on in there. I grab my backpack and stuff a few articles of clothing in there. Bra, underwear, shirts, pants, shorts, socks. I also grab a hoodie, throwing it in with the rest of the clothing. I take $200 from my original money stash and put it in the inside zipper pocket. That should be enough for a night at that sketchy motel again along with a few meals. I grab my phone, my charger and a bottle of water