Status: Working progress
Experimental
Pregnant is my stomach
Stephanie’s POV
“Fuck, shit, fucking fuckers from fuckville.” I puked into the toilet one more time. Vomit spilled from my mouth into the metal hell hole. Alan patted my back and I sicked up my fucking intestines.
“Stephie, please don’t swear, it’s like, not nice.” I finished and grabbed him by the collar. I spat in his face. He was taken aback for a moment before stepping away from me.
“If you fucking tell me to be fucking quiet once more, I will fucking bite your fuckingly small penis off, and shove it down your fucking throat.” I turned around and was once more promptly sick into the toilet.
He paused, “I’ll leave you alone for a moment.”
* * * * * * * *
No period. No period. No period. No period. No period. No period. No period. I willed myself not to jump to conclusions. It didn’t work.
I entered the chemists. They looked at me funnily as I did. They gave me a look of disgust as I brought forward a pregnancy test. I knew why. Teenage pregnancy – they’d probably seen it all too often. But I couldn’t be pregnant, I just knew.
She glared at me, “15 bucks,” she muttered in a voice with as much judgmental anger as my mom would have had, had she not been a slut.
I willingly paid her a twenty and left before she could give me my change. I didn’t want another cold hard stare from a woman that didn’t understand.
I walked home slowly. I didn’t really want to take this test. What if it was positive? What if it turned I was pregnant with Alan’s child? What if it turned out I was pregnant with ‘his’ child. What would I do?
I suddenly knew, as I stopped in the street, that I could not tell Derek. He would find some way to make me abort the baby, no doubt. I mean, if I was pregnant, I didn’t know what I would do, I might have an abortion. But, no, I couldn’t let him hurt my baby.
I was scared, and ran home quick. I went into the bathroom and took both the pregnancy tests I bought. They both had a ten minute wait.
It was agony. Pure and simple agony. Waiting – not knowing.
If I was pregnant – well, there went my life. I could be pregnant with a child from a drunken rampage or incest rape. What type of life would that child have any way?
Someone banged on the door when my timer was at three minutes. “Steph, what the fuck are you doing in the bathroom?”
Not him, oh god not him. I began to weep as Derek’s voice broke out again, “Get out of the bathroom, I’m gonna get you whether you like it or not!”
I began to sob uncontrollably as his shouts grew angrier and his body began to bang against the door. “Steph let me the fuck in!”
The timer began to beep uncontrollably. It’s whine broke out over his voice, temporarily silencing him. But before my hands were even on the test, he had started again.
I looked down at my shaking hands, holding two pregnancy tests. This was the moment when I would finally know if a life was forming in my stomach.
If it was positive, the baby would either have an abusive father or a gay one. I prayed it would be a baby with a gay father. It was the better option.
I stared at the test.
“Fuck, shit, fucking fuckers from fuckville.” I puked into the toilet one more time. Vomit spilled from my mouth into the metal hell hole. Alan patted my back and I sicked up my fucking intestines.
“Stephie, please don’t swear, it’s like, not nice.” I finished and grabbed him by the collar. I spat in his face. He was taken aback for a moment before stepping away from me.
“If you fucking tell me to be fucking quiet once more, I will fucking bite your fuckingly small penis off, and shove it down your fucking throat.” I turned around and was once more promptly sick into the toilet.
He paused, “I’ll leave you alone for a moment.”
* * * * * * * *
No period. No period. No period. No period. No period. No period. No period. I willed myself not to jump to conclusions. It didn’t work.
I entered the chemists. They looked at me funnily as I did. They gave me a look of disgust as I brought forward a pregnancy test. I knew why. Teenage pregnancy – they’d probably seen it all too often. But I couldn’t be pregnant, I just knew.
She glared at me, “15 bucks,” she muttered in a voice with as much judgmental anger as my mom would have had, had she not been a slut.
I willingly paid her a twenty and left before she could give me my change. I didn’t want another cold hard stare from a woman that didn’t understand.
I walked home slowly. I didn’t really want to take this test. What if it was positive? What if it turned I was pregnant with Alan’s child? What if it turned out I was pregnant with ‘his’ child. What would I do?
I suddenly knew, as I stopped in the street, that I could not tell Derek. He would find some way to make me abort the baby, no doubt. I mean, if I was pregnant, I didn’t know what I would do, I might have an abortion. But, no, I couldn’t let him hurt my baby.
I was scared, and ran home quick. I went into the bathroom and took both the pregnancy tests I bought. They both had a ten minute wait.
It was agony. Pure and simple agony. Waiting – not knowing.
If I was pregnant – well, there went my life. I could be pregnant with a child from a drunken rampage or incest rape. What type of life would that child have any way?
Someone banged on the door when my timer was at three minutes. “Steph, what the fuck are you doing in the bathroom?”
Not him, oh god not him. I began to weep as Derek’s voice broke out again, “Get out of the bathroom, I’m gonna get you whether you like it or not!”
I began to sob uncontrollably as his shouts grew angrier and his body began to bang against the door. “Steph let me the fuck in!”
The timer began to beep uncontrollably. It’s whine broke out over his voice, temporarily silencing him. But before my hands were even on the test, he had started again.
I looked down at my shaking hands, holding two pregnancy tests. This was the moment when I would finally know if a life was forming in my stomach.
If it was positive, the baby would either have an abusive father or a gay one. I prayed it would be a baby with a gay father. It was the better option.
I stared at the test.