My Apocalypse

I was starting to get better at holding onto my secret. After a week I had learned to ignore my conscience. Ronnie didn't seem suspicious, he acted normal and so did I. I hated keeping this from him, I hated not being able to tell him, and I hate that I did this to him. I love Ronnie, but I love Max too.

Is it possible to love two people? I don't want to lose Ronnie, but I don't want to lose Max either. They both mean the world to me, God only knows where I would be without Max, or Ronnie. I didn't want to fuck anything up, but I knew I already had. I fucked up worse than anyone could ever imagine.

I snapped out of my thoughts. I watched Ronnie as he sang, writing the words that came out of his mouth on paper. He sang quietly, moving his head to the beat. He had been writing a lot of songs these past couple weeks, and he wouldn't let me see any of them. Falling In Reverse announced they were in the process of writing a new album. I was playing on Ronnie's phone while he was writing. I kept getting annoying pop-up notifications. Everyone's Twitter and Facebook has been blowing up; fans asking about when the album was expected to release, or if they'd follow/add them, messages from tons of people saying how much they've inspired them.

Ronnie sighed, putting his notebook down. He rubbed his forehead, leaning back onto the couch.

"What's wrong?" I locked his phone, setting it on the coffee table.

"Writers block and a headache," he mumbled.

"Want some Advil?" He just nodded. I went to the bathroom into the medicine cabinet. I grabbed the bottle of Advil, taking two out and shutting the cabinet. I brought the pills down, giving them to him. I grabbed his Coke off the end table, handing it to him as well. He took a sip as he popped the pills in his mouth.

"Thanks babe," he stood up and kissed my lips. "You hungry?"

"A little," I felt hungry, but I didn't feel like eating.

"Steak and potatoes sound good?"

I nodded, curling up on Ronnie's couch while he cooked. I smiled to myself as I turned the TV on. I lazily flipped through the channels, looking for something decent to watch. I finally decided on South Park. I wasn't even paying attention to it, I just layed on the couch, dozing off.

I heard the frying pan sizzling in the kitchen and Ronnie humming as he cooked. A smell came from the kitchen that made my stomach churn. I felt immediately sick, getting up from the couch running upstairs to the bathroom knocking a cup off the end table causing it to shatter in the process. Ronnie called after me as I emptied the contents of my stomach into the toilet.

Ronnie rubbed my back as I flushed the toilet. "Are you okay?"

I just nodded. I stood up, getting my toothbrush from the holder. Ronnie waited for me as I brushed my teeth. Once I was done, he wrapped me in his arms. He led me to the bedroom, insisting that I lay down. "Lay with me," I mumbled.

He obliged, cuddling me to him. He was so warm and comforting. I didn't even have time to thank him before I fell asleep.

***

I awoke the next morning in Ronnie's bed alone. I sighed, tossing the covers off of me. I made my way down stairs only to be greeted by another horrible smell. I gagged silently, crinkling my nose. I found Ronnie in the kitchen making eggs.

"Mornin' babe," Ronnie was in an extremely good mood today, more so than usual. "Want some eggs?"

"Uh, no thank you," I went to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water.

"Still not feeling well?"

"Food isn't exactly my friend. Everything just smells bad."

He shut off the stove, scooping the eggs into a plate. "Maybe we should take you to a doctor?"

"I don't think it's that serious, Ronnie,"

"Well you have to eat something."

I groaned, "I ca––"

Ronnie cut me off. "Then we're going to the doctor." I rolled my eyes as Ronnie whipped out his cell phone, dialing the local doctor. He talked for a while, then hung up. "Get dressed, they have an opening,"

***

Ten minutes later Ronnie and I were sitting in the waiting room of the doctor's office. There was faint elevator music playing, old women coughing and babies crying. A young mother picked her baby up from the car seat, shushing it quietly. She reached into a small bag, pulling out a bottle of milk, feeding it to the baby.

I couldn't imagine having a child. They were so much work. I couldn't go out (not like I did anyway), you have to limit your diet while pregnant, you have to buy clothes, bottle, diapers and change said diapers, which did not seem very pleasant. I was only eighteen, now is my time to be selfish.

"Ashley?" A nurse called. Ronnie got up, dragging me with him as the nurse led us into an examination room. I seated myself on the couch-bed thing, causing the paper underneath me to crinkle. What an annoying sound. "What seems to be the problem?"

"Just haven't been feeling well," I muttered.

"Especially around food. She hasn't eaten last night." Ronnie jumped in.

God I hate him right now.

"Is it only certain foods or all?" she questioned. Nosy bitch.

"Pretty much all," I confessed. "Last night he was cooking steak and potatoes, the smell made me sick, then this morning it was eggs."

The nurse wrote everything down, nodding. She took my blood pressure, also writing the results of that on my chart. "Would you mind giving us a urine sample?"

I furrowed my eyebrows, "Sure?"

The nurse closed my chart, she motioned me to follow her. We left Ronnie in the room as she led me into a bathroom. She explained to me how to properly give a sample. After I was done she led me back to the room.

"The doctor will be right in," and she left us in the room, clicking the door shut.

"The fuck was that all about?" I whispered.

"Protocol I guess," he shrugged.

We chatted lazily while waiting for the doctor. Finally there was a knock at the door followed by a tall man in a white jacket. One step closer to getting the fuck out of here.

"Hi Ashley, I'm Doctor Moore," he shook my hand and Ronnie's. "So, I have to ask you a few personal questions, if you'd like we could ask your friend here to leave the room?"

I shook my head, "Ronnie is my boyfriend, I don't mind him being here."

Doctor Moore nodded, opening my chart. "Ashley, are you sexually active?"

My heart sunk. "Y-Yes, as of recent."

"When was the last time you had sex?"

"Three weeks ago."

"And your last period?"

I thought, "Around this time last month." Wait. It should have started a couple days ago.

The doctor nodded and scribbled something on a prescription pad. "Congratulations Ashley, you're pregnant."

I immediately felt the tears well up in my eyes. "W-What?"

"You're about four weeks, the sickness you've been feeling is morning sickness. You'll notice a lot of foods won't taste the same or make you nauseous." He rambled on, passing me the prescription. "These are prenatal vitamins. You'll need to take them everyday throughout your pregnancy unless you chose to terminate it."

I couldn't speak. I couldn't even look at Ronnie.

"You're free to go," Doctor Moore said as he shook Ronnie's hand. "I'm sure you'll be a great father."

Wait. Is Ronnie the father or is it Max's?

Fuck.

Ronnie and I walked quietly out to his car. The ride back to Max's was just as quiet too. He was in just as much shock as I was. I'm pregnant. There is a baby inside me, growing. I'm only eighteen and I don't know who the father is.

I kissed Ronnie on the cheek before walking into Max's house. He met me at the door, smiling.

"Hey Fuckface, have fun at Ronnie's?" he teased. When I didn't say anything his smile faded. "Ash? What's wrong?"

I began crying uncontrollably, clinging to Max. He held me, trying to calm me down, but it was no use. I howled for hours until there was finally no more tears to cry. My throat was dry and my eyes were heavy. I sniffled pathetically on the couch.

Fuck.

"Are you ready to tell me what's going on now?"

I said nothing.

"Did Ronnie hurt you?"

I shook my head.

"Ash, please tell me," he begged.

I sat up, sniffling as I wiped my eyes with my sleeves. I looked at Max. He was obviously worried, and the possible father of my child. I sighed, looking away from him. I stared at the floor.

"I'm pregnant."