Remembering Sunday

I stayed the night. Surprisingly.

My mother and I didn't speak once the entire night, even when my father came home and it was time for dinner. We kept our distance at the table, and somehow she kept her mouth shut about it to my father. I told him while we were eating, causing an eruption I half-expected. Despite how starving I was, I slammed my fork down into my plate and ran upstairs, unable to listen to my father's scolding and incredibly hurtful words about Seth and myself.

Obviously they didn't like Seth anymore.

I locked myself in my old room, and curled up on my bed, wishing that Seth was there to hold me tight to his frame as I listened to Tracy scream at my parents downstairs. There had never been this much screaming in this house as there had been today. Eventually the fighting ceased, and about five minutes later Tracy came upstairs with a hefty plate of food for me and one for her.

"Tracy?" I said at one point. "I'm sorry for how I treated you when you first got back."

"Don't worry about it," she said, pushing the remainder of her potatoes onto my plate. "Now eat."

That night, Tracy decided to sleep on the air mattress in my room with me, but she was gone when I awoke. I laid on my back in my bed, scanning the light lavender walls that used to house me. I missed the white and blue color scheme already. I missed waking up to find Seth tucked in next to me and being able to squeeze into his arms and cuddle. I turned one of my pillows sideways and put my head on it the way I would his chest.

It wasn't the same.

The only reason I had slept through the whole night was because of my lack of sleep the night before. However, my dreams were horribly vivid about Seth and what he was doing to himself after I left him. To make matters worse, his voice on the phone yesterday was ringing through all my dreams. I stared out the window at the sun peeking in. No more sleep would come to my eyes, propelling me to stand up and wander downstairs to find Tracy.

"Tracy?" I called as I hit the bottom step.

"Kitchen!" she called back. I scurried into the kitchen to find Tracy and my mother seated at the wooden table with a few phonebooks and a laptop sprawled across the tabletop.

"Laura, come have a seat, please," my mother requested flatly. I glared cautiously at her, wondering what was up. Tracy gave me an approving nod. I sat in the available chair, folded my hands, and stared at the two with fear building in my chest.

"Laura, dear, I know yesterday was rough, but today's a new day and I want you to know I didn't mean to snap at you like that. I want you to know that I'm going to be here for you to help you through this no matter what happens," my mother said.

"Oh, um, okay," I replied, feeling uneasy.

"Now, I've taken the liberty of looking up a few places for you," she said as she handed me a slip of paper with about ten names written down in her script. The location of each person was written next to their name. At the very top of the list, written in giantic, cursive letters was "Abortion Centers".

I slammed the paper down onto the table and stood up.

"Laura?" my mother began. "What's wrong?"

"Are you trying to be funny?" I asked angrily.

"No, why? Is there a problem?"

"Damn straight there's a problem! You're absolutely disgusting for thinking I'd ever even consider something so cruel!"

"Laura, you have to. I am not letting you keep this baby."

"You don't fucking control me."

"You are not keeping this baby! You're way too young and unmarried, it just won't work."

"I'm not your little girl anymore. I'm nobody's guinea pig. I'm having this baby, whether you like it or not."

My mother was fuming. "Okay, then let's find some adoption centers somewhere near by, shall we?"

Okay, now she was really pushing my buttons.

"I'm not puttting the baby up for adoption, either. I'm going to keep it and raise it like a responsible parent."

"Are you out of your damn mind?" she yelled.

"No, I'm just caring for my child," I snapped.

"You aren't even a mother yet!" she cried.

"So you just want to kill your grandchild? Oh, real nice."

"You think I want to?! I'm doing this for your own good!"

"Well, you sure as hell don't know what's good for me."

I stormed away to the front door where I'd left my bags stacked from yesterday. I picked both of them up and slung them over my shoulders as I listened to my mother call out my name. She wasn't grabbing my attention.

I left anyway.