Pup Among the Big Dogs

I was sitting on the bed as Ian sat beside me in a strange silence. He would open his mouth as if to say something, but would close it immediately. I didn't even attempt to fake happiness. In my dream so long ago I had been so happy to be carrying his child, but in real life I wanted that baby to die, even if it meant it had to be strangled. And that was a horrible thing to wish for!

"Isabel...I love you," he offered, looking down at his feet.

"Ian, don't say that," I snapped. "I'm sorry." I immediately felt terrible. I hated this.

"No, it's okay. It's my fault. I know it is. I'm horrible. A bastard. I'm going to go out for a moment," he told me, standing up.

"Where are you going?" I asked, voice monotone.

"I don't want the baby inhaling smoke," he told me, walking out of the room quickly.

Oh yeah, he had picked up smoking a few months ago. I didn't really know why, but he had. At first he just did it anywhere, but after I had a coughing fit--I was allergic turns out--he started going outside. I didn't try to stop him.

Instead I spent my time balancing on my head. I was half hoping the kid's brain would get all messed up and it would forget how to breathe. Oh I knew something was wrong with me.

"What on Earth are you doing?" Ian asked, walking in and grabbing my foot to keep me balanced.

"I'd tell you but you'd yell."

"Isabel, you've been doing weird things lately. You know, like this for one. And you were sleeping propped up against the table earlier. Let's not forget the intense staring and scowling you've been doing at your stomach. So mind telling me what's up?"

"I want it to die."

"I don't, so how will that work?" he asked, making me stand up the right way and leading me to the bed. "Bel, what is wrong with you?"

"I don't want it!" I shrieked, crying. "I don't want this thing! It needs to go away! You hear that? You're not welcome here!" I poked at my stomach for a minute before Ian pulled my hand away and took it in his own.

"Isabel, now you've just gone mad. That's a living thing and you're trying to brutally murder it?"

"Now when you put it like that, you make it sound like I'm a terrible person."

"I'm not letting you harm our child. That's the way it's going down, okay? We'll be a nice happy family. Think how thrilled your parents will be? You really want to do this to them?"

"I hate guilt. But what if I hate it when it's born? What if I hate my own child?!"

"You won't. I promise."

"Words mean nothing, Ian."

"You're making me worry, Isabel. What is wrong?"

"Nothing," I mumbled, yanking my hand from his and standing up.

"Where are you going?"

"To phase." I didn't care at all about being human. It didn't matter anymore.

"I'm coming with you."

"No."

"Isabel! God dammit I am coming with you!" He stood up and I glared.

"Whatever. See if I care."

"Why are you being so...Ugh!"

"I don't know!" I screamed, walking out the door with him nagging me all the way. I wanted to kill him! And the stupid thing free loading off of me. But the one thing nagging at me more than Ian was the question. What was wrong with me?