Carry on Like You're Supposed to Be

I was cold, I was alone, I was dirty.

But worst of all, I was late. By nearly two months. And if you were to have asked, I could tell you who's baby it most likely was. Kyles.

Except, neither he or anyone else knew. Story of my life.

I had sold most of my possessions. I had actually made enough money to stay in a crappy hotel for a couple of weeks. But, eventually, my cashflow left me and I was sent back to the streets oh-so-kindly by the burly hotel security guy.

I had been sitting at the end of a dead-end street for the past three days. I had eaten a loaf of bread and an apple, and was starving.

But the guys never paid any attention to my presence. Kyle and Marc were the ones I saw most often, as I was sitting at the end of their street. They didn't talk to me. They didn't even look at me longer than they had to to know that I was there. And once they had spared me that one glance, they'd shove their hands in their pockets and keep walking.

Caleb was a different story. He would look at me everytime. And for the past three days I'd been positioned there, he had left me gifts. First, it was an empty glass bottle, that I was putting to good use. Second, it was a wad of chewed gum. And today, it was a used tissue.

That night was one of those nights, where I was using the bottle. I just wanted to end it all, but something wouldn't let me. So, I did what I could to feel something different. Something real.

I watched as the red came up quickly to the surface of the cut I had just made on my wrist. I also heard footsteps approaching, but I chose to ignore them. It was probably only a dog or something. But whatever it was coughed, and I looked up.

"I thought I told you never to do that again?" I closed my eyes, willing myself not to cry.

"No, you said not to do this," I lifted up my shirt over my stomach to show him even more marks than he had seen before. "Not that I could anymore, seeming as it's covered. I'm a sell out." I kept my eyes closed to make things easier. "Plus, I didn't think you'd care anymore." I pressed a bandana to the cut, seeming as it wouldn't stop bleeding.

"That's really deep, are you okay?" Kyle crouched down and grabbed my hand gently.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I gasped and pushed the old bandana harder to the cut, willing for it to stop soon.

"Alexa, that thing is filthy. It's going to get infected." He let go of my hand, as if he just realised I smelled bad and hadn't showered in four days.

"It's fine." Lie. I held my hand up. "This happens all the time..." Lie number two. I pulled back to see if it had stopped bleeding, to find it hadn't. "It will stop... soon." Three strikes, I'm out. I could feel the wetness of my blood seeping through the bandana. I breathed deeply through my mouth and kept my eyes closed.

"No it won't. Alexa, just come with me and we'll get it... and you, cleaned up." Kyle sighed when I shook my head. He grabbed my hand and pulled me up, and then pulled me to his house.

"Kyle! My stuff!" I protested and he laughed humourlessly.

"What? A dirty, bloody bandana and a piece of broken glass? Unless you've got anything else... a lighter? Or maybe a bottle of absolute?" I bowed my head and he sighed again. "Sorry."

"Yeah." He opened his front door and led me upstairs and into a bathroom. He grabbed some gauss and soap, and ran my wrist under cold water, making me wince.

"Doesn't it hurt to make the cut?" He asked and washed the slit gently with soap.

"Not really, It's more like a feeling of relief. A place to let the extra pressure and pain out from." I said and he wrapped the gauss around my wrist. He didn't say anything.

I thought of asking him to take me to the drugstore and give me some money. I thought of having to tell him I was possibly pregnant with his child.

I couldn't very well raise a child on the streets.

"Kyle, does this mean you still care, just a little bit? That you could find some way to forgive me eventually?" I asked and looked into his eyes. He met my gaze sadly.

"Yeah, I guess I still do care. You can't love someone no matter for how little of time, and the just forget about them. Every night, since you've been staying down the street, I've been checking to make sure you're okay... I'm not afraid to admit it, I care. But I've forgiven you once, and look what happened. I don't know what to do anymore, Alexa. I don't know how to feel about you." He dropped my arm and looked away. Tears started burning the backs of my eyes.

"Kyle.. I" I stopeed. I wasn't completely sure yet. There was still a chance, a chance that it was just from the intense withdrawal and sudden lifestyle change. "Can you take me to the drugstore and lend me some money please?"

He looked at me confusedly. "Okay... alright, let's go, whatever." We went downstairs, out the door, and into his car.

"Wait out here. I'll be like five minutes." He nodded and handed me a twenty. I ran through the automatic sliding doors and ran to find a pregnancy test. When I found the isle, I grabbed the nearest one and rushed to the bathroom.

I opened the box clumsily and locked the stall door, seeming as it was the only one with a functioning lock.

I sat on the toilet, and did my business. Once I was done, I walked into the main little area by the sinks and shook the stick.

"Please no plus. No plus, no plus..." I muttered under my breath. I waited a minute and looked down.

"Shit, son!" I yelled and threw the test on the ground. But it just bounced and landed face-up, tauting me. How was I supposed to tell Kyle about the mini Burns-Turman growing inside me? Would he believe me, when I told him what this little pink demon had just confirmed?

I ran my hand through my hair and leaned on the sink, facing the mirror. Staring at my reflection, I thought about how my life had developed.

I was a model child.
I was a typical rebellious teenager.
I was a drug addict.
I was in what I realized really was love.
I was a bag lady.

But the last two statements were a more present tense kind of thing. I was in love with Kyle, and I was carrying his baby.

But Kyle said he didn't trust me anymore.

"Fuck!" I slamed my un-injured hand against the wall and walked out to pay for the test.