since eighth grade. → markiplier

Chapter Thirty-Two: The Pills

Chapter Thirty-Two: The Pills

Ellie 

Mark has been getting increasingly worried about me, as, since yesterday, I have been becoming less and less social. I just mostly stay in my room, rarely making a video, each of which turn out to be more and more tired of me to do, thinking about how I have fucked things up for the millionth time. I tell Mark that it's just because I'm feeling unwell, and this seems to ease him a little. However, I can't look at him for long when I do, because I feel as if he'll see the guilt and sorrow in my eyes. 

I comb my hair back, staring across at my reflection blankly. You couldn't tell that I was pregnant when you looked at me, as it was very early stages. I'd only known for a day, yet Mark still has yet to find out. I have thought about when to tell him, but find it difficult to find the right moment or time. How do you tell someone that they 'accidentally' knocked you up without sounding harsh or as if you're forcing the blame on them? I'm not sure. 

The dress I wear is a black one, cutting off at my mid-thigh. There was a large gap around the chest area, but it was covered up with black lace, just like my ribs and part of my back was. Are you wondering why I'm dressing up? Well, Joe and Bryony insisted that Mark and I join them in a date, thus causing a 'double date'. The idea had never seemed very appealing to me, but Bryony was persistent enough to cause me to give in. Mark didn't seem too bothered by the idea, and went along with it willingly.

We were going to somewhere fancy - at least, that's what Bryony had told us. I even wore heels, something that I rarely did. They weren't too high, but they did cause me to be a few inches taller than I really am. My hair was freshly washed and loosely curled, as I wasn't too much of a fan of straight hair. Not on myself, anyway. Make-up was very light, as always, but it did give me a healthy-looking glow to my pale skin. 

I let out a breath, leaning over the sink with my eyes not once tearing off of my reflection. I wasn't feeling nauseous at this time, as that only really ever hit in the morning. I mean, of course it did. Morning sickness, right? My eyes flicker from my reflection to the bottle of pills, resting beside one of the faucets. I scoop it up into my hand, hearing the pills scatter around the plastic container. I turn it over in my hands, wondering if I should really take them.

I unscrew the cap, tipping out two into my empty hand. I move my hand slightly, gazing down at the two, circular pills. How could something so small make such a big impact? I normally always ask myself this question before taking pills - I did it when I took painkillers. But, however, I feel as if I'm not talking about the pills right now. I'm talking about the small child growing within me. 

Without having any more thoughts, I knock back my hand against my open mouth, feeling both of the pills connect with my tongue. They sit there for a moment, until I finally swallow them. As I dry swallowed them, I feel them going down my esophagus, and, because I do, it makes me feel more and more guilty. Is this what I wanted?

I immediately panic, and, in the heat of the moment, I force them back up by making myself vomit. When I do, into the toilet of course, I watch as they both float up to the surface almost mockingly, almost as if they know what they have driven me to. Wiping my mouth, I flush the toilet and watch them whirl down until they are no longer here. I close the toilet lid, sighing as I make my way over to the sink to brush my teeth for the millionth time that day. 

Once finished, I step outside of the bathroom and adjust my dress a little. I wasn't used to wearing dresses much, so I did feel slightly uncomfortable. No, not uncomfortable. Just wary. Mark stands by the door, looking handsome all dressed up. I feel a faint smile brush my cheeks, but it grows even wider when he turns to me and grins.