Teenagers (Tear Your Aspirations to Shreds)
chapter 011
"Fuck!" I hung up and clenched the phone, white-knuckled. "Fucking fuck!" I got up from my bed, stomping on the floor so hard I felt my bones smash against each other. I just shrieked without words. Every ounce of stress was ripping my throat open, and I slipped and fell in a puddle of salty secretion. "Fuck! Mother fucking fuck!" my ass was now covered in tears and my ankles were throbbing. And I kept screaming. I threw the phone against the wall and watched it shatter in slow motion. I then proceeded to smash my fists against the floor as hard as possible. I saw the bloody marks from my hands, I felt the sting of skin breaking, but I didn’t care. I pounded away until I couldn’t move anymore, and just collapsed in a heap, nothing left of my fury but heavy breathing. I don't know why I thought he'd go with me. I thought he liked me though. I thought he'd want to help...Another classic character misjudging by yours truly. I glanced at my clock: 10:30. Still early enough to crawl back into bed and sleep.
***
Three PM, same day. I'm sitting on a train into Trenton. My head feels like it's going to explode, and there's something ready to burst right out of my stomach. If I was alone in the car I'd be screaming, but there's about ten people in here with me, so I contented with destroying my eardrums with my iPod. Maybe twenty minutes into the ride I started seeing how far into the back of my head I could roll my eyes before someone alerted the conductor. People stared at me and coughed before looking out the window etcetera, but no one caused any commotion. Damn. I inhaled slowly and pulled out my wallet, recounting my funds before getting off the train. Seventy dollars. My parents didn’t even ask me what it was for. I don't know if their stupidity is a miracle or a curse.
"Mom can I borrow some money?"
"Go ask your father."
"Dad can I borrow like fifty?"
"What for, Jessie?
"Clothes."
"Here sweetheart take this."
"Thanks dad."
My dad likes me better than my mom does. He doesn't see me as the girl who refused to go to a "young debutante's" ball when I was ten. He doesn't see me as the girl who fails at least one class a year. I'm not stupid to my dad. But he can be oh so clueless. I pulled the address of the clinic out from my pocket and compared it with the street I was on now. I was maybe eight blocks. I closed my eyes and fought back what few tears were trying to come forth before taking one more deep breath and walking towards Planned Parenthood on 437 East State street.
***
My iPod died and I was stuck with my fingers in my ears to block out the noise. There was a screaming match between who appeared to be a boyfriend and his (very) pregnant girlfriend going on right in front of the crowded waiting room. Did they not see the twelve other people they were screaming around? There were three babies screaming. I thought this was Planned Parenthood, not Already Experiencing Parenthood. I slid a little further down in my chair. The doctor would see me "as soon as possible", so I could be here for hours. The quietest people in the room were sitting in the two seats to my right. A couple in their thirties, wedding bands firmly on their fingers. The husband had his head resting on his wife's shoulder, and one hand rubbing her huge stomach.
"First kid?" I asked, desperate for noise that wasn't screaming. They both looked at me and smiled.
"Third," said the man.
"You seem awfully excited for something you've seen before," I said.
"Childbirth is an beautiful thing, no matter how many times you experience it," said the woman. "Think about it, us women are responsible for starting something that might last a hundred years into the future, a phenomenon that will go on even after we die. Imagine being a part of that! Well, I guess you are." she smiled at me. I looked at the floor.
"No...no, I'm not." I felt pretty awkward so I got up and moved across the room, closer to the door. A little more air filled my lungs every time it opened. A woman entered. She was young, early twenties. She had dark skin and long curly hair. She had probably the biggest stomach I'd ever seen. It had to be twins. A few people waved to her as she took a seat near me.
"Hi Sandra," a few of the women chorused. She waved back at all of them and smiled before focusing on the yelling couple.
"Hey we got kids in here!" she shouted. They stopped and stared at her. The woman of the couple took a seat and put her face in her hands. Sandra glared at the man. "You wanna scream at your girl, take it somewhere where I can't call social services on your ass." My eyes got wide. This Sandra girl was bold. This guy she was screaming at...he was a fucking tank. He was glaring back at Sandra, then back at his girlfriend. I assumed they weren't married, they were pretty young. Maybe a little older than Sandra. He took a few heaving angry breaths and then stormed right out of the clinic. The woman erupted in loud sobs. Everyone else fell silent. Sandra heaved herself out of her chair and took the one next to the sobbing woman, placing an arm around her shoulders. "Come on girl, mine's gone too and I'm gettin' by. You don't need no man to raise your child. You got you. What's your name sweetheart?"
"Allison."
"Aright Allison let's talk 'bout this. He the father?"
"Mhm."
"Do you think he comin back?"
"...Not this time."
"Aright well, if he don't love you, do you need him?"
"How will I raise my baby?"
"You got you, you got the nice people here. You got friends too, don't you got friends?" Allison nodded. "You gonna be fine babydoll. What were you screamin' bout anyway?"
"He wanted me...he wants me to have an abortion." She hugged Allison.
"Oh doll, you don't got to do that. No one gots to do that, don't worry, you're fine. Your body, your baby." And then her attention just magically shifted to me. I guess she could tell I was watching. "What about you? Where's your man?" I shrugged.
"Don't have one."
"He run off too?"
"Nope. He doesn't know."
"Ah Christ girl. Wait, how old are you."
"...fifteen."
"I'm not quite sure I heard ya correctly, can you say that again?"
"I'm fifteen." I said, quite a bit louder. A few people stopped a looked at me with sad eyes, including the couple I'd talked to before. "And I'm here for an abortion." Allison looked at me.
"I've had one of those...when I was seventeen."
"And you got pregnant again?"
"Flipping miracle I even can. Abortions can destroy you for life."
"I know."
"I think you'll regret it."
"No, I really don't think I will," I said curtly. Allison's eyes went to the floor.
"How'd it happen?' asked Sandra. I glared at her for a second, trying to analyze her reasons for asking. I found no hidden motive, and answered with a deep breath first.
"He took me upstairs at a party around the time school started in September." my legs instinctively curled up to my chest...just the way they did after it was over.
"Well, did you say no?" asked Allison.
"I probably did at first...I don't know...it was a keg party...I wasn't exactly coherent."
"Was he?"
"I don't even know...probably not. All I know is that it happened, and I woke up the next morning in his bed with him on me trying to get me to do it again."
"That's rape," said Sandra quietly. "You know that, don't you?" I nodded. "Then why not report him?"
"What's the point?" I asked. "After today it'll all be over. He didn't do anything I can't fix myself."
"Sweetheart, I can see that you're depressed. He did that to you."
"No he didn't."
"Are you sure?"
"...Yes."
"Then you do what you want. You seem like a strong girl. I just don't want you to get any more hurt than you already have."
"I really don't think it's possible to get any more hurt," I choked out. I never get like this. I never break down in public. Allison sat down next to me and rubbed my shoulder. I started to cry and she shushed me like a mother to her baby. It sounded right when she did it. I hoped she had her baby. She seemed good at the whole mother thing.
"Jessica Pullman?" called a nurse from the hallway.
*
**
*
I went home and puked until I swear the next thing that would come out of my mouth was a major organ. I sat on the bathroom floor and cried. I showered until the water went icy, and even then I just stood there. I didn't feel the chill. I felt nothing. Well, actually I did feel something. But it was nothing I'd ever felt before, and therefore I really can't tell you what it was. But it was kind of like being hit with hammers all over at once. I crawled into bed in an attempt to sleep. It was only maybe four o'clock, but I was too weak to stand, or even sit. I closed my eyes but couldn't steady my breathing. And I couldn’t get calm either, for having to wipe my wet eyes every three seconds. I felt empty. I felt cold. I felt like how Robert E. Lee must have felt when he signed the surrender treaty: like I'd just chosen to lose everything I stood for in life. I rolled over a million times and started screaming and kicking when my blanket became my straightjacket. It must've taken me three minutes to get the fuck out of it and I lay there, staring at the ceiling, finally regulating my breathing. I stood up and crawled out my window and onto my roof, unable to lay there any longer.
***
Three PM, same day. I'm sitting on a train into Trenton. My head feels like it's going to explode, and there's something ready to burst right out of my stomach. If I was alone in the car I'd be screaming, but there's about ten people in here with me, so I contented with destroying my eardrums with my iPod. Maybe twenty minutes into the ride I started seeing how far into the back of my head I could roll my eyes before someone alerted the conductor. People stared at me and coughed before looking out the window etcetera, but no one caused any commotion. Damn. I inhaled slowly and pulled out my wallet, recounting my funds before getting off the train. Seventy dollars. My parents didn’t even ask me what it was for. I don't know if their stupidity is a miracle or a curse.
"Mom can I borrow some money?"
"Go ask your father."
"Dad can I borrow like fifty?"
"What for, Jessie?
"Clothes."
"Here sweetheart take this."
"Thanks dad."
My dad likes me better than my mom does. He doesn't see me as the girl who refused to go to a "young debutante's" ball when I was ten. He doesn't see me as the girl who fails at least one class a year. I'm not stupid to my dad. But he can be oh so clueless. I pulled the address of the clinic out from my pocket and compared it with the street I was on now. I was maybe eight blocks. I closed my eyes and fought back what few tears were trying to come forth before taking one more deep breath and walking towards Planned Parenthood on 437 East State street.
***
My iPod died and I was stuck with my fingers in my ears to block out the noise. There was a screaming match between who appeared to be a boyfriend and his (very) pregnant girlfriend going on right in front of the crowded waiting room. Did they not see the twelve other people they were screaming around? There were three babies screaming. I thought this was Planned Parenthood, not Already Experiencing Parenthood. I slid a little further down in my chair. The doctor would see me "as soon as possible", so I could be here for hours. The quietest people in the room were sitting in the two seats to my right. A couple in their thirties, wedding bands firmly on their fingers. The husband had his head resting on his wife's shoulder, and one hand rubbing her huge stomach.
"First kid?" I asked, desperate for noise that wasn't screaming. They both looked at me and smiled.
"Third," said the man.
"You seem awfully excited for something you've seen before," I said.
"Childbirth is an beautiful thing, no matter how many times you experience it," said the woman. "Think about it, us women are responsible for starting something that might last a hundred years into the future, a phenomenon that will go on even after we die. Imagine being a part of that! Well, I guess you are." she smiled at me. I looked at the floor.
"No...no, I'm not." I felt pretty awkward so I got up and moved across the room, closer to the door. A little more air filled my lungs every time it opened. A woman entered. She was young, early twenties. She had dark skin and long curly hair. She had probably the biggest stomach I'd ever seen. It had to be twins. A few people waved to her as she took a seat near me.
"Hi Sandra," a few of the women chorused. She waved back at all of them and smiled before focusing on the yelling couple.
"Hey we got kids in here!" she shouted. They stopped and stared at her. The woman of the couple took a seat and put her face in her hands. Sandra glared at the man. "You wanna scream at your girl, take it somewhere where I can't call social services on your ass." My eyes got wide. This Sandra girl was bold. This guy she was screaming at...he was a fucking tank. He was glaring back at Sandra, then back at his girlfriend. I assumed they weren't married, they were pretty young. Maybe a little older than Sandra. He took a few heaving angry breaths and then stormed right out of the clinic. The woman erupted in loud sobs. Everyone else fell silent. Sandra heaved herself out of her chair and took the one next to the sobbing woman, placing an arm around her shoulders. "Come on girl, mine's gone too and I'm gettin' by. You don't need no man to raise your child. You got you. What's your name sweetheart?"
"Allison."
"Aright Allison let's talk 'bout this. He the father?"
"Mhm."
"Do you think he comin back?"
"...Not this time."
"Aright well, if he don't love you, do you need him?"
"How will I raise my baby?"
"You got you, you got the nice people here. You got friends too, don't you got friends?" Allison nodded. "You gonna be fine babydoll. What were you screamin' bout anyway?"
"He wanted me...he wants me to have an abortion." She hugged Allison.
"Oh doll, you don't got to do that. No one gots to do that, don't worry, you're fine. Your body, your baby." And then her attention just magically shifted to me. I guess she could tell I was watching. "What about you? Where's your man?" I shrugged.
"Don't have one."
"He run off too?"
"Nope. He doesn't know."
"Ah Christ girl. Wait, how old are you."
"...fifteen."
"I'm not quite sure I heard ya correctly, can you say that again?"
"I'm fifteen." I said, quite a bit louder. A few people stopped a looked at me with sad eyes, including the couple I'd talked to before. "And I'm here for an abortion." Allison looked at me.
"I've had one of those...when I was seventeen."
"And you got pregnant again?"
"Flipping miracle I even can. Abortions can destroy you for life."
"I know."
"I think you'll regret it."
"No, I really don't think I will," I said curtly. Allison's eyes went to the floor.
"How'd it happen?' asked Sandra. I glared at her for a second, trying to analyze her reasons for asking. I found no hidden motive, and answered with a deep breath first.
"He took me upstairs at a party around the time school started in September." my legs instinctively curled up to my chest...just the way they did after it was over.
"Well, did you say no?" asked Allison.
"I probably did at first...I don't know...it was a keg party...I wasn't exactly coherent."
"Was he?"
"I don't even know...probably not. All I know is that it happened, and I woke up the next morning in his bed with him on me trying to get me to do it again."
"That's rape," said Sandra quietly. "You know that, don't you?" I nodded. "Then why not report him?"
"What's the point?" I asked. "After today it'll all be over. He didn't do anything I can't fix myself."
"Sweetheart, I can see that you're depressed. He did that to you."
"No he didn't."
"Are you sure?"
"...Yes."
"Then you do what you want. You seem like a strong girl. I just don't want you to get any more hurt than you already have."
"I really don't think it's possible to get any more hurt," I choked out. I never get like this. I never break down in public. Allison sat down next to me and rubbed my shoulder. I started to cry and she shushed me like a mother to her baby. It sounded right when she did it. I hoped she had her baby. She seemed good at the whole mother thing.
"Jessica Pullman?" called a nurse from the hallway.
*
**
*
I went home and puked until I swear the next thing that would come out of my mouth was a major organ. I sat on the bathroom floor and cried. I showered until the water went icy, and even then I just stood there. I didn't feel the chill. I felt nothing. Well, actually I did feel something. But it was nothing I'd ever felt before, and therefore I really can't tell you what it was. But it was kind of like being hit with hammers all over at once. I crawled into bed in an attempt to sleep. It was only maybe four o'clock, but I was too weak to stand, or even sit. I closed my eyes but couldn't steady my breathing. And I couldn’t get calm either, for having to wipe my wet eyes every three seconds. I felt empty. I felt cold. I felt like how Robert E. Lee must have felt when he signed the surrender treaty: like I'd just chosen to lose everything I stood for in life. I rolled over a million times and started screaming and kicking when my blanket became my straightjacket. It must've taken me three minutes to get the fuck out of it and I lay there, staring at the ceiling, finally regulating my breathing. I stood up and crawled out my window and onto my roof, unable to lay there any longer.