Death Is Never Permanent

I didn't have to go back to school, the Parole People/Police decided that the “traumatic experience” was enough to allow me to get a GED later on or even go online to school. To be honest I would most likely do neither, knowing that I would get sidetracked and frustrated easily with either of the two options. So basically, I sealed my fate as a high school dropout. Fun, huh? I was at least grateful that I didn’t have to step another foot inside that god-forsaken preppy school; and Jeffie was surprisingly the one who let me get out of going back at all.

I also was able to get out of the “go back to jail or go stay with your parents until your parole is over’ sort of thing too. But no one dare say a word about it… I just know that I obviously am back in LA, and not in 1) the Bay, or 2) in Maine with my mother.

I ended up staying about a week with Ale and Matt in New York after Lucas up and disappeared. All of his things were gone, or so I was told. He just left me all alone in the hospital that one day and I haven’t heard from him since. He just left and I don’t know why…

Zacky's getting married.

That's good news, right? At least something good came out my trip; getting to witness the proposal and then ‘partying’ afterwards in celebration-though we all know I did none of the sort. I gave them my congratulations and love before stealing out of the house and to the park, just to be alone and away from the noise and alcohol…All I think about is my father, and cringe every time. Despite the tears I’m angry.

Staying in New York forever wasn’t an option, I had to go home.

So now, 8 days later I'm sitting in my room, in my apartment, on my mattress, my suitcases all around me; while Shimmy's singing and heating some leftovers in the kitchen’s microwave. He didn't eat all of the food that first day after all, though I think he may have ate a bunch and then just ate out or got some kind of takeout because there are a shit load of empty containers all over the place.

I wasn't about to tell him what happened, the less that he knew, the better. Plus he doesn't need to know either. I don’t think I honestly could tell him out loud anyways…It makes everything that more real, and I can’t let that happen.

“Here...” He handed me some chicken noodle soup in a bowl.

“Thanks Shimmy.” I grabbed it out of his hands and sat it on the floor.

“You sure you're alright?” I nodded and smiled a fake smile. I wasn't alright.

I felt worse than I ever had after the fact, I feel like throwing up every time I think about it and I even have multiple times. I keep feeling his hands on me and the pains shooting up my stomach and spine. I don't trust anyone anymore, no one at all, and I won’t bother to go outside or to any public places.

On top of that, Shimmy was supposedly leaving to go somewhere for a meet or something. He wouldn't give specifics but it’s one of those huge cross country races? So basically I was alone, all alone. Again. Me, myself, and my fake emotional exterior.

As for my father- I don't know where he is or what he's doing. Is he in prison or jail? Is he out on bail? Is he in Maine? Or somewhere else trying to get back at me like he said he would if I told anyone, ever? Will there be any charges against him? Will he get away with it? My mind spun a mile a fucking minute with these sorts of questions. I keep thinking of every sort of scenario imaginable...trying to figure it out but… I never get anywhere.

-

Sometime within day 8 and 14, around 2 weeks later, after leaving from the wedding that night in an ambulance, I started feeling sick...like really sick. And knew... I just didn't want to believe it.

I didn't know what else to do so I did the one thing I thought of.

I went to find Lucas.

It was around 10 am but I have been up since 6am throwing up constantly. I don't know how I had that much food and water in me either since I haven't really been eating much. I couldn’t or id throw it right back up, so what’s the point?

Hopefully he’s awake though.

I knocked on the door getting increasingly louder until I was pounding on the poor inanimate object; the door finally opened revealing, Alex. I pushed him out of the way without a word and walked inside, maneuvering through the house going straight up to Lucas's room. I knocked before I went in but I didn't wait very long. More like one knock and whip open the door. He was sleeping still, I should have known. Suddenly the nausea came back and I ran back out of the room, to the bathroom, yet again throwing up. I groaned in annoyance and sat still against the bathroom wall trying to get my head to stop spinning in circles.

“Are you okay?” Alex asked grossed out as he watched it all.

“Can you go get-”

“Luca, yeah!” He said a bit too enthusiastically, leaving just as quickly as he came. I sat there, my head in between my knees for a few minutes until I heard soft yet heavy footsteps coming towards the bathroom.

“Blaire?” Lucas’ rough voice questioned. I looked up at his form. Rubbing his eyes he yawned; he had on no shirt and his pajama pants weren't wrinkled so he just put them on. “You look like shit…” He said coming towards me, setting next to me yet never taking his eyes off of me.

I put my head back down and mumbled “I feel like shit.” and sighed. He touched my back and I flinched but he didn't move it away, just started rubbing lightly.

“You alright?”

“No...” I basically whined, but didn't go any further in explanation.

“Okay… so what’s wrong?” I looked up at his face, into his eyes. They were concerned but I could tell that there was something there. That he was upset with me or something such as that.

“I've been throwing up for the past couple days.” I said looking down and he didn't say a word, his hand stopped to.

“Then why are you here, go to the doctor-“

“They can’t help me!”

“You… aren't?-” I shrugged, I had this feeling that I was pregnant just...I didn't want to believe it. Things are already screwed up enough, I don't need a baby. I don't WANT to be a mom! Tears came out now. Flowing like rivers down my cheeks. “Okay um...I don't… ask about this and it...um...your...ah.”

“More than a month ago, but it happens sometimes...you just skip.”

“So you may not be pregnant?”

“I. don't. knoooowwww...” I groaned in annoyance with it all.

“You didn't take a test?” Nooooo, I said I didn't know dip shit! I shook my head 'no,' Truth is; I'm too afraid to think about it let alone actually take the stupid test. “Okay...How about you get a bath, relax and I'll be back in a little bit, alright?”

“Where are you going?” I looked over at him.

“I’ll be back-“ He leaned towards me and kissed my forehead before leaving me alone.

“Okay, fine…” I mumbled to myself before I slowly stripped my clothes off and got into the shower/bathtub, turning on the water and adding bubble bath soap as it filled. Then turned off the water when it was high enough.

Okay sooo lets say I am pregnant.

I don't want the thing first of all. I'm 17 I can’t take care of a baby myself.

Is it Lucas's or my-...fathers? It could have deformities and all that “fun” stuff you hear about with the incest thing. How would I tell them, oh grandpa is your dad...I couldn't do that!

But then with Lucas I know he won’t want it.

He's young, rebellious, a fighter. He doesn't want to settle down with a kid...with me.

Speaking of fighting, I can’t fight while pregnant either. And the whole 'having a baby changes everything-' your damn right it will. Those people who came up with that fucking phrase should be rich! I swear it’s so true! I can’t fight anymore, I wouldn't have time or... I wouldn't let the kid see what I did. Then again, I’d be all alone so how can I even expect to live. You can’t live off of a few thousand dollars forever. Not with Shimmy, and a baby; definitely not in LA. You can't, I'm sorry.

I knew I would be doing this myself. If I am pregnant that is. I could abort it, I mean rape...it wouldn't be as “bad” but still it just...I don't know if I could after everything I've been through. I also know I wouldn't be able to give it away, you see all those movies and TV shows about how hard it is. Although it could technically be a sibling of mine, creepy yeah I know but I don't really think I could let it go after having it inside me for almost an entire year. So adoption was out entirely.

But what if I'm not pregnant at all...

Then something is seriously wrong with me.

I shouldn't be throwing up my guts like this for no good reason.

“AHH.” I groaned putting my head under the soapy water and then coming back up.

“Hey...” Lucas said, appearing back in the bathroom with a brown paper bag. I knew what was inside. “You're ‘gonna have to take it.” I scoffed before looking away in disgust, I didn't want to...I didn't technically have to either...

HE CAN”T MAKE ME!
-

An hour later I had taken it, and was waiting for the actual results.

It was positive... And my whole world was turned upside down.

What the fuck am I going to do now?

“Everything will be okay, I mean-” Lucas started as he stood in front of me, I was setting on his bed at the moment just letting it all sink in. My mind ran a mile a minute thinking about everything. I couldn't/ can’t take care of a baby... I just don't want this to be happening, I can’t believe it. Am I dreaming?

“No it won’t!” I screamed and stood up. All my anger towards my father was coming out in a rush, unfortunately Lucas was on the receiving end. I wish I could actually stand up to the bastard, every time I froze though.

“What the hell are you talking about? You have friends, a boyfriend. You have me even...Everything will be okay!” I could tell he was hating the fact that I was hysterical.

“No, No it won’t be okay! I can’t do THIS!” I screamed hysterically again. He stood there, shocked.

“You aren't going to get rid of it are you?” He asked incredulously as silence filled the air around us.
“Cause you know, it could be mine...” He looked sad as he broke the tension in a whisper; he knew abortion was an option...like I was seriously thinking of being disgusting and terribly sadistic. I couldn’t abort it, yet for some reason I couldn’t just accept the fact that I have no other choices. I wouldn’t tell him that but I wouldn’t do such a thing either.

“I don't give a fuck whose it is… you have no effect on what I do! You don't have to give birth to it!” I screamed at him and that… seemed to piss him off.

“If I'm the fucking father of it I have every right!” He yelled right back at me. “I do have a fucking say in the matter of what you do if it’s mine too!” He has no right to tell me what to do! What’s he going to do cage me up?

“Really? and how the hell am I supposed to know, Huh? One extreme to the other! I don't know whose it is! All I do know is that I Cant. Do. This! I don't give a shit if you want it, I can’t...” I was breathing deeply almost to the point of hyperventilating but not quite there yet; sort of on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

“You can’t just get rid of it like its trash; it is a baby for God sakes. It’s a living thing, Valencia!”

“You don't think I know that!” I scoffed.

“But you don't care?” His yelling ways brought down to a normal talking voice for a moment.

“No. I really don't. I'm 17 Lucas; I'm 17, living alone with Shimmy who is already just like a kid...I just-”

“Then move in here.” He pleaded “I can take care of you.” He looked hopeful which was weird. The last thing I would have expected from him would be to want me to move in with him. I figured he wouldn't want it, the baby, you know he's in his early 20's. And he doesn’t even know if it’s his either. Seriously, do guys want to settle down yet at that age? Normal guys don't, I do know that much.

“No.” I just couldn't live with him not after all of this... I didn't know if it was his for one and I'm not his responsibility. Plus what happens when I do have it, things will be even more complicated and we aren't even in love. There is nothing keeping me here with him, he could easily get bored and annoyed, kicking me out...not that he would but it is a possibility.

You always see those guys who promise a girl the world when they find out they are pregnant than 5 months in they leave and say they can’t be with them anymore...it’s ludicrous. I don't want to be that girl. The girl who’s left heartbroken and alone, with a baby.

“Why, because of Matt?” Lucas snarled.

How dare he! He knows nothing, and now is bringing Matt into the mix, what does Matt have to do with any of this shit!?

“Leave him the hell out of this.” I demanded.

“Why? He is the reason right? You two love each other, tell me something. What's he going to do whenever he finds out? Huh, will he leave you entirely?” I didn't say anything I was too shocked that Lucas would suggest something like that “He would huh? When he does, don't come crying to me!” He yelled.

“I never said I fucking would, and you don't know him so leave him out of this!”

“What, hit a sore spot?!” I lashed out and hit at him, punching, hoping he would hit me back but I knew he wouldn't beat me up like I wanted right now...get rid of it. Yeah I know it’s stupid to think that way and it’s… whatever it is but at least it would be his fault and I didn't purposely do it to myself. Instead he just held my arms as I kicked at him. “You know it’s true. As soon as he finds out he'll leave you!” I hit harder.

“No he won’t!” I screamed “He wouldn't...” Tears came out of my eyes as I got out of his grip. I started leaving out towards his bedroom door, I wasn't taking his shit now not after all this.

“Where are you going?” He came and grabbed me again.

“None of your fucking business, now just let me the hell go!” I fidgeted in his grasp.

“Okay fine, you go ahead and fucking murder it! Just do it! I don't care; I don't want anything to fucking do with you anymore! Just get the hell out of my life Valencia, or so help me I'll make it a fucking hell for you!” He screamed as he continued to hold onto me.

“GO FUCK YOURSELF!” I screamed in his face trying to get out of his grip

Lucas hit me.

His hand smacked my face with a defening wail and whipped my head to the side and that was it...

I was gone.

And I wasn't coming back.