Bite Me

Chapter One: Double Pink Lines

    I wanted to cry, scream and throw myself on the floor like I'd done as a toddler.

Instead, I stared blankly at the wall, clutching the tiny but significant pregnancy test between two fingers.

I wanted to throw up even though morning sickness was weeks, even months away.

"No. No, please." I whimpered softly, sinking to the floor and dropping the condemning object. I clutched my temple with both hands, feeling defeated, stupid and irresponsible.

"NO." I snarled, throwing the test with the infuriating double pink lines across the bathroom in a weak attempt at releasing the emotions that welled up inside me, burning to escape somehow.

"That's not fair. Crap." I tossed a towel for good measure, breathing deeply and trying not to hyperventilate. I shook my head, wishing as hard as I could that I could put the blame on anyone but myself.

But I knew it was my fault, and my fault alone. I'd been dumb at that party, weeks ago, in a moment of loneliness.

I could blame the loneliness, the empty feeling I got every time I got back to the apartment I alone inhabited. I had thought I'd find friends easily at the collage I'd been so enthusiastic to join. I was nice, pretty and funny, or at least I'd been told I was. But actually doing more then saying hello to a few semi-familiar faces was harder then it looked.

"I can't do this. I'm not going too." I licked my lips, feeling relieved as soon as I said the words. I scrambled to my feet, wiping the tear that had joined my pity party away and splashing my face with water.

"Lots of people don't keep their babies. I can't have a baby and give it a good life, so actually I'm doing myself a favor." I confided in my reflection, feeling at ease with my decision.

Yes, lots of people have babies at twenty-one. Lots, actually, and they make great moms. But I was so far from being emotionally, financially and physically able to become a mother, it only made sense to just not.

With that on the forefront of my thoughts, I grabbed the pregnancy test from where it lay by the toilet and yanked the door open, knowing now that I'd come to a rational decision, I needed to tell someone I trusted.

I carefully took a picture of the double lines, shaking a little. Jewel, my older sister and closest friend, had to know.

For real?

Her reply so so immediate it almost scared me.

Yeah

I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling subconscious and a little guilty.

You okay?

Such a small, impossibly hard question. I started to cry, weeping freely because no one was there to judge or care.

No. Not Really.

I spoke the words out loud, setting my phone down and feeling like crumpling into a ball, again. "No, I'm so not okay." I bit my lip, wiping the snot off my upper lip. My phone vibrated, but the need for sharing had left as quickly as it had come.

A startling thought shot through my entire body, and I scrambled around, grabbing my phone and typing as fast as my fingers would move.

DO NOT TELL MOM

If Mom found out, my life would be over. That would just be the end of everything I knew, loved and hoped for. She'd freak, scream and cry, probably. Then get over it and buy me the most expensive and random pregnancy items. If she did that, me and the cluster of cells inside me would be forced to become buddies. Nope, Mom couldn't find out.