19-years-old, pregnant, and living in a tiny cabin-like house with her sister, three children, and their various "uncles." This was the last thing that Adrienne Monroe pictured when she was a little girl. The worst part, there was a man out there who once loved her enough to take her in his arms for a night, but then run off to another town with his father in the morning. Far away, to a place where, "it's not safe."
"Usually, the dumber they are, the better, but… I don't know. She's' different, Dad."
The voice replayed in her mind so many times. Much like the night she got pregnant. She remembered wrapping him in her arms as he cried over everything he had ever bottled up inside of him. She remembered hearing him say that he trusted her and allowing him to kiss her. After that, it was all sweat and passion. She would never forget his breath against her neck, murmuring her name sensually. Or the way that, as his mouth found her mouth in the dark, the soft voice that echoed "yes" was hers.
Now all Adrienne wanted was to curl up and die. This life she was living was not her own. She had tried to convince herself that this was all just a nightmare. That it was only a dreadful dream and she was really sleeping, tucked away under the blankets. She hoped that when the baby came, it would wake her up, and she's go back to a size two and able to walk in heels for more than six seconds.
Adrienne took a deep breath and all she could smell was poor. It was her unmarried sister with three children, all having different fathers, and the men coming in and out of their lives. "Is this what my baby has to look forward to?" Adrienne asked herself. Life was suddenly becoming exceedingly horrendous very rapidly. She took another deep breath and closed her eyes.
As she drifted off into sleep, she distinctly heard a man's voice. Her sister, Claire, had another one. Her children were staying with their friends. The house seemed quiet for a few moments. That was until he got her on the kitchen floor. Adrienne heard shouting from there and names being shrieked. This man's name was Troy. Claire shouted ecstatically, creating a sick feeling in Adrienne's stomach. This one would be out the door in a few minutes and when Claire went to work, Adrienne would scuttle out of the bedroom and pour bleach on the floor to clean it thoroughly. For now, she pulled a portable C.D. player from under the bed, placed the headphones on her ears, and waited for the sexual escapade to be over.
Ten minutes later, the door closed, the shower started, and the smell of sex filled the kitchen. A dressed, clean, and smiling Claire peaked her head through the door of Adrienne's room.
"I'm going to work. If Leah or Margie call, tell them where I am," Claire instructed with a grin.
"Sounds great," Adrienne said sarcastically.
"Bye-e-e!" She hollered in a singsong voice.
Adrienne got to her feet and waddled into the laundry room. She took the jug of bleach into the kitchen and poured it on the floor. She pulled a surgical mask from a safe in her closet, changed into an old pair of scrubs that she used in medical school, and began to cleanse the tile of body fluids. It took ¾ of a can of air freshener to rid the house of the bleach smell. Of course, the baby finally caught a whiff of the cleaner, forcing Adrienne's head over the toilet.
As she sat on the floor of the bathroom, she wondered what the father of her child was doing. She wondered if he was thinking about her at all. All of a sudden her head felt to heavy, so she allowed it to rest against the wall. The house was so still and quiet. For once in the past seven months, everything seemed somewhat peaceful. Then that night flashed before her again and she thought she might explode. Where could he be? Did he really love me or was it all in my head? What am I going to do?
"I think about that tomorrow," Adrienne thought out loud, as she closed her eyes and fell asleep...