The Heist

The plus sign…means positive? Why am I pregnant? Why is this happening to me? I stand up from my crouched position. I don’t want this child, but it’s not the child’s fault that his or her father is the monster he is.

I don’t even know his name. Or what he looks like, for that matter. I only know his voice, and what the Good Lord blessed him with. Unfortunately he worked with the Devil.

*~*~*~*

Julian’s up for the cause, luckily for my sake. He’s not exactly the most moral type of guy, which definitely works in favor for my plan.

“Look, man, I got a couple of guys who might be interested in your plan,” he told me last night when I spoke to him over the phone.

He wouldn’t give me any details about the guys at all. He said he’d wait until it was confirmed they were in. He didn’t want them spouting data about either one of us. The men had to be loyal and trustworthy, and in it for their own individual cause. They didn’t need to know about mine. If it’s for their own cause, they will be more likely to keep the whole ordeal a secret.

Out of everyone, Julian and I will be the only ones to know about the real reason we’re there. That’ll be good. Out of four people, only two will know.

~*~*~*~

Now that I know I’m pregnant, I will have to make a decision. Well, firstly, I’ll go to the hospital and make sure; get a professional test.

I decide I’ll take the bus. I don’t need my driver knowing where I’m going and why.

As I enter the hospital, I wonder what the nurses and doctors will think. It’s not like it actually matters, but I worry anyways.

I wandered up to the triage desk. “Yes?” the nurse asked, wondering what I wanted. She had long blonde hair coiled into a bun, nestled closely to her head. Her makeup made me want to rip open a clean pad and wipe it all off. Other than that, she was a very pretty woman. She looked like she’d be in her mid to late thirties, perhaps.

“Um, do you know if Doctor Loraine Sanchez is in?” I ask. The nurse, whose name was Farah, looked at me in wonder.

“Yes, she is. Would you like to see her now?”

“Could I?” I asked. She had to be busy.

“Yes, you could. Her appointment for this segment was cancelled. She’s available if you need to see her. I’ll buzz her.” She didn’t wait for my response. She buzzed Dr. Sanchez, “I have a woman who’d like to see you, Loraine.”

“Her name is,” she paused, looked at me and asked my name. “It’s Ashlee Miller.” There was a pause. “Yes, I’ll send her right up to see you, Loraine.”

When I got to Dr. Sanchez’s office, I told her what I needed. She immediately started to get everything ready to test to see if I was, in fact, pregnant.

“The results,” she said, “should be in later today. I’m putting an extreme rush on it.”

“Thanks so much, Dr. Sanchez!” I hugged her. Talk about awkward.

“Please, Miss Miller, call me Loraine.” Yes, she tells me to refer to her by first name, yet she calls me Miss Miller? Whatever.

“Okay. Thank you, Loraine, and please, call me Ashlee.”

We say our goodbyes and I exit the hospital feeling okay. Hopefully the pregnancy kit from the pharmacy was a lemon. Hopefully all of them were. Yes, what are the chances that four are malfunctioned? There’s a chance, right?

*~*~*~*

“C’mon, Bro, please tell me what you’re doing?”

“No, Elizabeth.”

“Please? I’ll be your best friend forever!” She looked as if she really meant it. Then again, who’d want their little sister to be their best friend forever?

“Elizabeth, I don’t want you involved.” I tell her. Like that’s going to work. I do a mental slap to my face. That’s only going to make her more anxious to come.

“Pretty please, with sugar on top?” She gives a cute face, as if it’ll work.

I give her a stern “no”, but then she says, “If you don’t tell me what’s going on, I’ll tell Dad. Or worse yet, I’ll tell Mom.”

“Tell her what? You don’t know anything.”

“I’ll think of something.”

And then there were five.