Mercedes Catherine Taylor-Jones knocked on her sister's door. She didn't receive an answer so she turned the knob, hoping it wasn't locked. It wasn't so she came inside.
She could hear water running in the bathroom so she went to the sage door and listened. She could hear Marceline Anne vomiting. She grew concerned and opened the door. "You're sick!"
Marceline Anne was a little busy throwing up so she couldn't blast her sister for coming into her room. When she was finished, she just laid on the sink (she didn't vomit in toilets) to catch her breath and make sure more wasn't coming.
When she was satisfied it was over, she rinsed her mouth out before brushing her teeth and using mouthwash.
Mercedes Catherine looked at her in concern. "Marcy-"
"Leave me alone." Marceline Anne put away her supplies and dried her face and hands on a towel.
"But something's wrong."
"Something's always wrong." She pushed her gently but firmly out of the way.
Mercedes Catherine pouted. "How long have you been throwing up?"
"Who cares?" Marceline Anne climbed inside her big bed and reclined against her mountain of pillows.
Mercedes Catherine sat on the bed. "How long, Marcy?"
"A few weeks." Marceline Anne rolled her eyes.
"A few weeks?!" Mercedes Catherine yelped, terrified.
"This is why I didn't tell anybody. Stop overreacting."
"Why are you like this?! You could be sick again and-!"
"Stop it!" Marceline Anne shouted. Mercedes Catherine stared at her, terror in her eyes. "Look, I'm not sick. I just throw up and feel rotten most of the day. No big."
"Marcy, please go to the doctor. I will go with you. I can't handle losing you." Mercedes Catherine was close to tears.
Marceline Anne looked away. "Fine. I'll go to the doctor. But it's nothing."
M-
"What?" Marceline Anne blinked.
"You're not sick again. You're pregnant." Dr. John Williams smiled.
"What?!"
"Marceline Anne, this is good news. Wouldn't you rather be a mother than sick?"
Marceline Anne was having her doubts.
Mercedes Catherine blinked. "You're pregnant? You're going to have a baby?"
"Two." Dr. John held up two fingers.
"What?!" Both girls perked up.
"See here?" He pointed to the ultrasound machine screen. "This is Baby A and this is Baby B. It's not progressed enough to tell sexes but there are two of them."
"How far along is she?" Mercedes Catherine asked.
"12 weeks."
Marceline Anne paled.
"Oh my goodness!" Mercedes Catherine gasped.
Dr. John put away the wand. "Do you want pictures?"
"Yes!"
Marceline Anne eyed her. "Is it too late for an abortion?"
Mercedes Catherine almost had a heart-attack. "What?! You're trying to get rid of them?!"
YOU ARE READING
Morphine
Romance"I can feel you; just like a drug..." Marceline Anne Taylor-Jones is what one would call a bad girl. She does what she wants when she wants because she wants. Malcolm Chang is what one would call a good boy. He follows the rules and does what's requ...
