CLANK!
The noise of the cell doors locking at 9:30 every night still made Emma jump. She was the youngest inmate in the prison at barely fifteen. She looks around twelve, her growth stunted by lack of good nutrition and lack of parental care. She was adopted at 11, but her new parents couldn't make up for lost time that well.
Emma was "troubled" as was her teachers notes on her school reports, or "just didn't bother" to make it to classes. Instead, Emma preferred to hang out with her boyfriend Neal, who at 17 thought he knew it all. Emma was drawn under his spell by his charming and slightly shy personality, and the pair spent many nights on the back of his flatbed truck, wrapped in blankets, talking about the stars and their lives together.
Emma tossed and turned in the narrow, prison-issued bed, finding it harder and harder to get comfortable. Her hair was tied into two braids that fell down her back like two long golden ropes. Her skin was a sickly pale, with dark circles encompassing her green eyes and several spots protruding from her forehead and chin.
Her large stomach jutted out in front of her, making her look more heavily pregnant than her five months especially due to her bony wrists and spine that looked ready to slice through her flesh.
Wrapping her hands around her bump, Emma let her thoughts wander to that night. The night that her life stopped.
Neal had been thrown out by his wealthy, affluent parents. They disapproved of the "Trailer Trash" girlfriend who was their house more than her own. Having given the teens a chance to call off their relationship- which Neal had adamantly refused to do- the only option was to kick out their son and his girlfriend. It wasn't so bad at first, they rented a room in a motel together using Neal's credit cards that his parents had given him and bought instant meals that were filing and fairly decent… until Neal's parents had cancelled his cards. Their bliss quickly turned sour as the money gradually ran out, resorting to the teens selling things to afford their shelter and food. Eventually, all they had left was a few clothing items that they shared, Neal's yellow Volkswagen Bug, and the few personal items that they couldn't part with.
after a few months, the money ran out. They were almost completely broke and were getting desperate, so when Neal suggesting that they rob a local restaurant with fake guns, Emma readily agreed. It went almost perfectly, no one was hurt, until they heard sirens outside. Neal ran out with about half a million in cash from the vault in the back while Emma was stuffing all kinds of things into her bag, food, jewellery, money… everything she saw that may have a value. Neal was caught outside the restaurant and told the arresting officers that his girlfriend was inside. They were both arrested at the scene.
The trial and sentencing went especially quickly as both were young and the judge took pity on Emma after a childhood in the foster care system. Neal was given five years and Emma was given a year, which was later halved on appeal.
Two months into her sentence, Emma began feeling extremely unwell. She was vomiting rings around herself, was in constant pain from her boobs to her stomach and had missed her periods. The warden had put this down to stress initially, but when Emma began looking worse and worse, the prison doctor ordered a battery of tests. Everything came back clear with the exception of two, her anaemia test, and her pregnancy test.
And that left Emma where she was now. A convicted felon, a pregnant teenager, and almost certainly, alone.
Hearing the other women in the cell block muttering to themselves, some snoring, and the old woman that Emma had dubbed The Whispering Walker walking up and down and across her cell, her footsteps eerily loud in the almost silence.
Emma thought about the baby that was currently growing inside her belly. Occasionally she felt them kick but they were more like flutters than kicks at the moment. All the books said that the baby would be moving around more by now, but Emma's baby was still pretty quiet and stationary for most of the day, it was around the size of a banana.
It was getting a tiny bit more exciting as next week, Emma would be finding out what she was having. Her gut feeling told her it was a boy, but she was picking out names for both genders. Her current favourites were Francesca Louise and Olivia Marie for a girl, and Harry James and Harvey William for a boy. She was keeping her names a secret, for now!
Neal didn't know that she was pregnant. She had elected to keep it as her little secret as she felt as though Neal had abandoned her, literally holding the baby. Emma felt he was a sperm donor at this point, nothing more and nothing less but he would always be this baby's father, and even Emma couldn't change that.
Her adoptive parents, David and Mary adored Emma, in spite of her many mistakes. When Emma told them at their first in-person visit that she was pregnant, Mary fought the urge to cry. This was her little girl admitting that she had been having sex with Neal. When Mary first suspected this, she confronted Emma and discretely offered to take her to get birth control pills or condoms. This didn't mean of course that Mary was permitting the youngsters to have sex, but her argument was that if they were going to do it, she would far prefer that they were somewhat protected. Emma had steadfastly maintained that she wouldn't ever go that far, how the mighty have now fallen.
David was ready to kill his daughters loser boyfriend for getting her into this amount of trouble. His wife maintained that both Emma and Neal were at fault, no one had forced Emma to join in with the robbery. David had to admit that Mary was right at that. Even though they had only known Emma since she was around 10 years old, they had still taught her the difference between right and wrong and how to behave. He hadn't been delighted that he was going to be a grandpa before he was forty, but he was happier now that Emma was away from Neal and their awful relationship. Emma had even offered to name the baby after him if it was a boy, but he politely declined; saying that it was her baby, not his, and she should name it whatever she wanted to.
The Whispering Walker was particularly determined that night, counting under her breath and muttering words that no one could quite hear or understand. She wasn't old, maybe late thirties or early forties. Her hair was the colour of a Jay's wing and tumbled down her back when it wasn't secured in her usual tight, fat braid. Her eyes were a welcoming deep brown, there was a profound sadness in them. Emma had caught her looking at her a few times, especially at her growing stomach, so Emma had assumed that she had kids on the outside that she was missing. Although they never seemed to visit her, for some unknown reason. No one knew her real name, mainly because she never spoke to anyone directly and if she had to, her voice was so quiet that it was easy to miss. There was a scar on her face that Emma had noticed, it cut right through her top lip on the right side of her face. Maybe that was shy she never spoke to anyone? she was self-conscious of her scar.
Drawing her mind back to the baby that was moving a little- typical! As soon as Emma wanted some sleep, that little parasite wanted to play!
Emma wouldn't admit to anyone that she was scared. Scared of being pregnant in prison, scared of childbirth, scared of being a young single mother, scared that she was doing the wrong thing. Her mother had gently broached the idea of Emma giving he baby away after it was born, meaning Emma could get on with her life as though it had never happened, but it was something that Emma couldn't do. She hadn't planned this baby but maybe it was meant to be in a strange way. Maybe Emma was destined to be a mother.
The baby wriggled a little and nestled, staying still for a few minutes and Emma sighed lightly, a small smile flickering across her face. Her baby. Something that was totally hers and no one else's, something that would love her unconditionally. Not something! Someone. Someone who would be her pride and joy.
When the prison doctor had told her that she was pregnant, Emma was stunned. Neal wore a condom and although Emma wasn't on any birth control, she figured that condoms would be enough. She hadn't even really enjoyed the sex, it was more to irritate her adoptive parents. Emma felt awkward and uncomfortable the entire time and it was over after barely five minutes. The thought that a baby had come from that encounter was almost laughable; Emma had lost her virginity at 13 to a guy she went to school with and even that was better than with Neal, but neither were especially great. Her friend Lilly was bisexual, and the two girls had experimented together, but Emma had been fairly certain that she was straight. Fairly certain, but not absolutely certain.