Abortion

f i v e

i'm so lonely

i feel worthless

dedicated to fxcknhemmings

I walked up the steps of West Sydney's Reformatory, in

the cold weather. I pulled my jacket tighter around

my growing stomach. My baby girl decided on

kicking me while I drove, leading me to almost slip

on a patch of ice. Unfortunetly, Mini Coopers don't

have equipped four wheel drive. I was greeted by

a big dog, who snifffed my ankles, a police officer

held his leash.

"Ms.Winthrom?" He asked. 

"That's me." I smiled.

"How did you manage to get this job?

You're so young." He smirked.

"My boyfriend, and father of my fetus daughter,

helped me study for my GED." I smirked back and he 

stepped back slightly.

"Ah, of course, go to station 136, you'll start your

work there." He demanded and I gave him a look 

before he walked out the doors, past me.

I slowly walked, looking at all the inmates who passed

me. I picked up my pace when the numbers :136

were seen near. The man sitting a the desk gave

me a grim smile, before asking my name.

"Oh, the pregnant one?" He laughed, briefly. 

"Uh, yeah." I said, rolling my eyes.

"Please, go straight through these doors,

you'll see a redhead with huge boobs,

give her this slip." He puffed his cheeks out and

I walked through my guided route. 

The read head was pretty and I

could already tell, bubbly.

"Excuse me," I said, her attention

turning to me, "Grace Winthrom." I reached out for her 

hand and she took it politely.

"So, you can keep all your personal belongings

in a locker, here, follow me." She said, gripping her

clipboard and walking through more doors, 

I trudged behind her and my phone vibrated in

my pocket, I simply ignored it, knowing it was Michael.

Her long nails tapped on a small, metal, locker.

She handed me a key and smiled. "After you finish, come 

find me again." She smiled, brighter.

Opening the locker reminded me of my 

awful childhood and junior high life.

My parents got a divorce that year, and all I wanted

was to stab myself in the throat. My foreign science teacher

who failed me, turned out not being that bad, and

that was the highlight of my seventh grade year. 

I had barely any friends, but I remember daydreaming

about my future. Having loads of boyfriends,

getting married, having my own car, and

making babies. This isn't how I imagined it.

I shoved my coat into the locker, along with my

purse and went to find the redhead. She stood talking

to a brunette, whose smile glowed all the way

from over here. Her long hair was pulled into

a ponytail, likewise to mine, but she pulled it off better.

The 'STAFF" shirt she wore tugged at her

curves perfectly. "Hey blondie!" Her voice teased, jokingly.

I got that remark often, but, I didn't mine.

"It's Grace." I laughed.

"Stella." She smiled back.

"Oh right, I'm Trish." The red head spoke, laughing.

"Gracie, can I call you that," Trsh laughed, "be

a dear and show Stells," she turned to Stella,

"can I call you that," she laughed again, 

"her locker? Number 634." She smiled as Stella 

began to follow in my tracks.

"It's nice to meet you, Grace." She spoke up,

I then realized the ring that hung on a lace around 

her neck. There was engraved words on it as well

I couldn't make out the words, but the pearl stud

shimmered lightly.

"As to you, Stella." I spoke, showing her the locker.

She jammed the key into it and stuck her purse into it.

"You're getting a call." Stella laughed, referring to

the vibrations against the metal. I quickly unlocked

my locker and swiped to answer the call.

"Grace?" Calum's voice cried through the phone.

"What's wro-"

"Michael's in the hospital."