IN THE WAITING LINE.

BY: A-LASTING-IMPRESSION

Title: In The Waiting Line
Type: 7th Heaven Fan Fiction
Rating: PG-13 (Sex, Alcohol, Drugs, Violence)
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of 7th Heaven. I do own all my original characters and this story, though. Don't take.
Summary: Ruthie Camden has become something she's not. How did she get there and why is she so angry with herself? Shifts from present, past, and future. Please R&R.

ABOUT THIS STORY.

Hello readers. There are a few things about this story that contradict some stuff that has happened on the show. For one, the episode Hungry did not happen. This story takes place as if Ruthie and Vincent have just broken up. Also, on 7th Heaven, Martin does not like Zoe. In this story, he does. Also, in this story Mary has not left Carlos and Charles. The story takes place as if they're happy in New York. I ask that you give this story a chance. It's confusing in some parts, but everything will be explained eventually. It's also very "un-Camdenlike" and even though it contains a clique in this first chapter, please give it a chance! Enjoy and please review.

ALSO: This story is a bit adult, but not graphic enough to fit into the M category. Be warned that it contains depitions of sex, drugs, alcohol, and possible mild swearing. The rating may be upped, but I'll warn you before that.

PROLOGUE.

The clock ticked with every second that she waited. Her heart skipped every other beat. She stared at the strip with impatient eyes. Her brain pleaded that this wasn't happening. She wished it would all go away. Her hand trembled as she held the small instrument that would determine her future from now to forever. She gulped. That's when the strip turned pink. Frantically, she jumped for the box and read the directions.

1. Open applicator.

2. Urinate on applicator.

3. Wait five to ten minutes for process.

Pink: Pregnant

Blue: Not Pregnant

Her heart sank. The box and applicator dropped from her shaking fingers and hit the ground, causing two quiet thuds that sounded like thunder to her ears. When had everything gotten this bad? She remembered that two days ago, everything was fine. No one saw the pain that covered her face and had been covering it for months. She wasn't a slut - she'd never admit that she was, even if she was.

Here she was: pathetic, alone, and afraid. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she slid down the bathroom wall. She felt like crawling into fetal position and staying there until she starved to death, but knew that she couldn't. All the knowledge in the world had become evident in her life since she'd hit rock bottom. No one would ever experience this pain. Why had things gone the way they did? She walked the streets every night; making money was hard, but not as hard as facing her family every night when she got home. She smelled of sweat and the mascara that had once graced her eyelashes clotted on her cheeks and neck. No one ever asked.

Even though she could count on one hand the number of boyfriends she'd slept with, she had to use two hands to count the number of guys who'd paid her to sleep with them. She wasn't proud, but when you need money and have nothing to lose, you'll do anything. Every time she slept with one, she added him to her mental list. She smelled like every guy she'd been with, only one of which she'd actually been in love with. But she wouldn't talk about him. He was gone long before this got out of hand.

What was she trying to prove by being promiscuous? Maybe her point was that no guy could ever take advantage of her. She'd take advantage of them. It was stupid, she realized, but too late to call for Mommy now. Mommy was only one of the thousands of people who'd be disappointed in her once the truth came out. It had to come out eventually because she had no place to go but home. Here she was, at home, but it didn't feel like home anymore. It felt like the house was mocking her, scolding her. It felt like everyone on earth, even those she'd never met, was disappointed in her. They should be, she decided. She was disappointed in herself.

A knock at the door startled her. She couldn't leave yet. She never wanted to leave the bathroom stall and face this world that's bound to kill her eventually. Everyday that she lives she gets worn down even more. A small sigh escaped her lips. Her hands ached from trying to retrain the fierce shaking and her lips quivered from crying. Why did this have to happen to her?

After wiping her tears away from her face and freshening up, she got rid of the test by hiding it under mounds of trash in the bathroom trashcan. Then, calmly, Ruthie Camden stepped out of her comfort zone and into the uninviting air of the Camden house, where Eric stood outside the bathroom door. She didn't even cast a glance his way, but ran in the other direction instead. If only to get far from this place and find a home safe in the waiting line.