Broken Hope

You work so hard and it stresses you out so much that it can make you want to cry. It’s frustrating when you can’t remember all that you have to and things just won’t sink in. Lines, positions everything seems to be falling out your mind quicker then they went in. Months of working on the production and costume and freaking out about everything comes down to that one day, that one day to perform and show everyone you can do it.

You plan everything in your head down to whether you’ll be having your period that day. In your head you work it out. No, should have just finished. Good everything’s fine, because the last thing you need is to have an ‘accident’ in a white wedding dress.

You carry on learning and re learning things while doing all your other work, then Tuesday comes and goes. One week left and then the big performance of the year. Then you realise something, you haven’t started. That can’t be right, you should of by now. You calculate it all in your head; it shouldn’t be happening. You put it down to being a little late.

The next day comes and goes and it still hasn’t happened; now you’re kinda freaking out. Then that thought crosses you mind.

No. No. That couldn’t be it. Could it?

Your stomach stars to hurt, quite painfully and nothing is making it feel better. You never get pains before, never so what could they be?

It’s Thursday now and you’re in agony, why won’t this pain go away, you taste something metallic in your mouth. That can’t be? In rehearsal, you feel your stomach convulsing and vomit it your mouth. You rive around on the floor, while you’re meant to play death. You hear your friends ask what’s wrong but you can’t answer, when you don’t know it yourself.

During the scene when your friend straddles you, can’t help but cry, the pain is so much and you can’t bare it, so going through the motions of the scene you leave the stage in pain for ibuprofen. The thought is firmly lodged in your head.

Who could you turn to?

He’s too far away and you live with a load of people you barely know. You realise that you are actually very much alone. That thought hit’s you hard. What are you to do? Steal a test just runs through your head the whole time, you have to know.

You go see a friend. She can help, you know she can. She does. She says you’re not. She understands. She says its okay, and that to see her on Monday. That’s 4 days! That’s such a long time and you really need to know.

You go for a walk and think about things that you could do if it was truly happening.

Adoption.

That was your main option. You couldn’t look after a baby but Abortion was out of the question, that was murder. You knew what you would do. You would write the little it a diary of the next 9 months just to show it that you did love it. Always, and also to show it just what his mum was like. Just so it new.

That Saturday you go shopping for dresses for a wedding and as you try on the dress that makes you feel like a princess you think how would it look if you had a two month stomach underneath. That could ruin the whole mood of the wedding, all your brothers and sisters knowing, all their closest friends finding out on their day, what a disappointment you would be.

You dream at night of a small boy, the name you had already chose floating around you head making his blue/green eyes smile and his brown curly hair bounce as you said his name lovingly and he looks at you with eyes that make you know he knows you his mum.

You go for a walk and think about things that you could do if it was truly happening.

Adoption.

That was your main option. You couldn’t look after a baby but Abortion was out of the question, that was murder. You knew what you would do. You would write the little it a diary of the next 9 months just to show it that you did love it. Always, and also to show it just what his mum was like. Just so it new.

As all this is happening you are still talking to the guy everyday on msn. Everyday having to lie and say everything is okay and there’s no problem and
you miss him. You do miss and wish nothing more then him to be there to look after you and tell you everything will be fine.

T.V’s not helping all you see are couples having babies and having a good time. Then you see the couple that want one more then anything and can’t. She’s angry and sad.

“What you can’t talk about is the fact that you’re angry because for some inexplicable reason Kevin can father a child and you can’t, and now after everything you’ve been through with Elizabeth…the one thing that she needs the most is what you can’t giver her but Kevin can. And what really sucks is that you resent him for it….I really wanted to become pregnant and I would think that how would people like Trish just go out, and they don’t even want kids, have a one night stand and now she’s pregnant. And of course I’m very grateful for this, bringing our baby into the world just as you’re grateful for Kevin; but it’s just that little part of you that thinks it’s not fair.”

There it is, straight in your face. You are resented for having a baby when you don’t want one, by a T.V program, and what makes it worse that you resent yourself for the fact that you may bring something into the world when it is so obvious that you can not look after yourself, you should know that from living of cornflakes with no milk.

How are you meant to tell people that you are what the media see as a no good slut? How are you meant to carry on performing if you can barely move?

The hours seem to go by like days and days like years as you wait for that Monday, because that’s the main thing you need to know to stop yourself compulsively worrying are you or are you not?

Then on the Sunday, you had given hope of ever coming on and resolved to the worst. You feel something different in your pants, it wasn’t as thick as the discharge before, and as you pull down your trousers and pants you see the deep brown against the black of your pants.

As you skip to bathroom, ecstatic that everything was going to be all right and your life wasn’t going to be over you can’t help but feel that small tiny drop of sadness, because as happy you were life was going to go on as normal, there was that small drop that maybe, just maybe, if things had turned out like that. Things would have been okay.