I began writing this about a year ago, but some things really overtook that point in my life, so I neglected this story. I'm back now and I love where this was going, so I pulled the original and am now reposting this and editing it. This won't be a B/E story (at least, I don't think) but maybe things will change. I'm just going to let the words pour out of my fingers and hope it all works out in the end.
I look at the little stick in my hand. I close my eyes, hoping that if I don't see it, then it isn't there. I open them again.
Yep. It's still there.
I lean my heavy body against my bathroom wall, still clutching the plastic piece of shit that will ultimately change my life forever. I let out a heavy breath and stare at the unused package of tampons under my sink. Normally, I'd hate to think of the pain that I go through that requires their use, but right now, I'm yearning to feel the cramps in my uterus. At least then I would know that my life isn't over. At least then I could still pretend to be the perfect person everybody thinks I am.
I stare at the little, pink plus-sign one last time and stand up. I walk down the stairs and out the door while still clutching the test. I jog into the brisk, morning April air and open the trash lid. Frowning, I throw the life-ruiner into the plastic trash and run back inside. I need to breathe.
Glancing at the clock, I realize that I have forty-five minutes until school. I gulp in some air and deny the truth. I run into my room and grab the nicest and tightest clothing I can wear, taking advantage of the fact that I won't be able to wear it for much longer. Jumping into my tightest skinny jeans, I stumble back into my bathroom and brush through my hair, curling it into a neat bun on top of my head. I grab my eye shadow and dust a splash of gold along my lid and line my water line. I know Alice will put me through hell with the questions about my appearance, but it's the only way I can cope right now.
Maybe if I pretend to be who I was before on the outside, I'll still be who I was on the inside as well.
I grab my forest-green sweater and throw it on along with my black studded boots. I glance at myself in the mirror. I stare at my reflection in the mirror, attempting to deny the inevitable. It'll always be there, though; in the back of my head, I know I will never forget the day I found out I was pregnant at 16.