Metamorphosis

It’s over. The time is up.  I have to face this. My heart should be racing but somehow it isn’t. My mind still can’t make sense out of all of this. This was not supposed to be happening. I wish this wasn’t happening. I know what the answer is, but I don’t want to. I want to go back in time. I want to be wrong. I need all of this to be just part of a nightmare. I need to wake up with my heart out of my chest and try to calm myself down to sleep. I want to be safe in my bed. The timer sets of again.

We are still facing each other. None of us has the guts to check the result. The shop has never been this quiet. Time has never been slower. I feel my body start to tremble. My heart’s finally assuming control of itself and it’s making me feel reality. I want to be wrong. I so want to be wrong. 

I stop looking at her and guide my eyes to the sink. Anyone could enter the bathroom at this point. But they won’t. The tension and the cold air are more than enough to prevent them from coming in. Nothing has changed but I know I won’t be the same person that walked in here. I don’t have a smile on my face anymore. My hand nervously takes everything that was on top of it. I can’t seem to make my hand act normal. I can’t seem to act normal. 

I wish I had done everything to prevent this, but I didn’t. Once again, I let others control me. I’ve been warned so many times… Why can’t I just listen? Why can’t I just know what’s best for me? I never do; and people love that. I just wish I could ignore the bad choices. The problem with thinking that bad things never happen to us is that at some point they do. I know I’ll continue to be the same girl, making the same stupid mistakes, letting myself get too comfortable until something really bad happens to me. I think now is my turn on being the bad choice’s girl. I so want to be wrong.

My eyes look down. The white stick is glowing against the black marble. I can’t pretend I’m not seeing it. My hand starts to squeeze my coat tighter as I gain courage to look at the result. I can feel the temperature drop. My breath is freezing cold, and my body is so empty I can barely pull up the strength to think.

One, two lines. Two lines. I stop. My heart stops. I can't move. Air stopped entering me a long while ago. Breathe in. Breathe out. The world starts to spin, my legs start to push me to the ground. I can’t seem to make my eyes stop moving trying to make sense of all of this. Two lines. My eyes start to swell. I grab the box and toss the paper outside. I’ve never read this quickly. I need to know I’m wrong, that this doesn’t mean what I think. I’m wrong, please tell me I’m wrong. I reach the bottom. It means positive. I’m pregnant.

Lia's talking to me, trying to calm me down. Her eyes are wide open, her hands can’t stop running all over the place trying to pack everything. Occasionally she looks at me making sure I haven’t ran. I don’t really know why I haven’t already. My legs are still not responding to my commands. They’ve taken control and are now making me stay here and face my mistakes, face reality. 

“We’re late for class.” I interrupt her.

Her eyes are even bigger than they were before. Her arms stopped what they were doing. I can clearly see the confusion in her eyes. She remembers to blink, still trying to make out what I’ve just said. I grab my stuff and run. My legs finally give me back control. 

The sun is falling near the horizon. Pink ink starts to be drawn in the sky, fading away to orange as we move away from the shore. I can feel the fresh, calm wind touching my face. My hands are tight against my face. Hours have gone by since the result, the only thing I’ve done is run for my secret place. This small beach has been my safe haven for a couple months now. It’s the only place where I can actually think. I know my mind is made up, I can’t go through a pregnancy, I can’t be a teen mom. I grab my phone and make an appointment for next week; this will all be over soon. Everything will go back normal soon. Everything has to go back to normal.

I’ve been living in my own nightmares lately. I have three days to make a decision. I can’t focus on anything else. My whole life has been put on pause. I just wish I had the button to unpause it. I want to go back to those summer nights. Hanging on the beach, meeting new people every day… The laughing, the smiles, the tears... I wish I could be there right now... Meeting Andrew for the first time again. Feeling my heart fill with love and needs. I want to go back to the time where I was so nervous to have my first time and how he was able to calm me down and make me feel safe, like I had never felt. The sneak-ins, the nights out, the times where we ran away from everyone just to have some moments by ourselves. How we one day stumbled across a hidden beach, and how quickly we made it ours. Our safe space. I want to feel loved again. I never again want to feel the pain of seeing him do the things I thought were ours to that other girl. To feel the hurt of seeing her as happy as I were, knowing that I could never step up to her. To feel the betrayal of, after all that time, finally realizing that I was just some younger girl for his stupid boning list. To feel the tears streaming down my face and not knowing how I would ever be able to stop them. I’ve been dreaming about those nights lately. Having our history unravel all over again in my brain, with all the emotions and feelings. But, as I image our history over and over again, the happiness and the love slowly become disgust and anxiety. The more I dream the more reality finds its way to sneak in and destroy all the happiness I still have in me. I want to go back to those times.

I’m at the doctor’s office. The cold air is almost as stabbing as it was in the store that day. Knowing my life will change the moment I enter that door is hard. Very hard. My heart has not stopped racing since the result came back positive. I’m so tired. I just want this all to be over. To go back to being the teenager I am meant to be. To not be worried with what clothes I’m going to wear to try to hide my belly. It’s hideous, I know. No one would know even if they saw it. But I would. I haven’t been able to look myself in the mirror for months knowing there might be a baby there, especially now that I know there is. I can’t face myself.

“Emma Smith, room 6.” 

I step up. I feel like everyone is staring at me as if they know what I’m about to do. I feel so small right now. My steps have never been quicker, and my head lower. I can’t face people’s opinions on how young and irresponsible I must be. The doctor’s smiling behind her desk. She’s probably the first person to actually make me feel secure about all of this, to make me feel like I do have a choice and that I’m not less of a person by putting me in this situation. Her compelling eyes remind me of Andrew’s. How safe I felt under those eyes, those arms. I just want to go back to them. To change our history and make him stay. To have us have our happy ending. To have me have my happy endi-- 

Tu-tum tu-tum tu-tum

My heart stops. My eyes are as wide as they can be. I can’t seem to breathe. That’s a heartbeat. I look down. This thing has a heartbeat! My body’s freezing cold on the inside. I look at the mirror and all I see is tears. There’s someone inside me. I’m growing someone. There’s a heartbeat. This bump inside me is alive! 

  I get up and dressed. How can I take life away from him? Or her? This is a baby, a person. How am I supposed to decide if she deserves to live? I can’t do that. I don’t have what it takes to stop that heartbeat. That beautiful sound…. This has the power to change everything. How can I make a decision like that? 

I ask for the pill. I made a decision already. I can’t change right now. I just have to take it. I’ll be normal again. This baby will never have the life he or she deserves anyway. At least one of us will have the chance to have what we deserve. I deserve to be happy, to be free, to be a teen. I deserve to make mistakes and be able to learn from them. I shouldn’t have to live with my mistakes for the rest of my life. This baby doesn’t deserve to be born like this. Who would want to be born like this? Growing up with a mother that doesn’t even know who she is and how to take care of herself. How could I even do that? The diaper’s, the doctor’s appointments, dealing with people’s opinions… I’m too young to be judged like that. I know I need to be the bigger person now. I need to grow up and decide what’s best for me. I need to finally put myself first despite who I may hurt. 

Two weeks have gone by since the doctor’s appointment. Time has slipped through my fingertips really fast. I no longer have a rash on my throat. I finally can eat without feeling like I’m about to throw up every second. Smells have been less intense lately, but I still can’t stand coffee. You have no idea what I would give to be able to have a cup of coffee these days. As I think about it, it’s impressive how much has changed in nearly a month. I managed to call Andrew and tell him what I had been going through. I was surprised that he even picked up, but the speed at which he hung up was definitely something to remember.  I’m better off alone. I knew that already, and I’m ok with that.  I now know that’s way more than enough. To have myself is to have the world. 

The soft wind is lightly touching my face like the way it did that Tuesday afternoon. This river has not changed since that day. The eagles are still trying to catch up with the waves, trying to find some fish underneath the water. The sun is still at sunset changing its colors from pink to red. The clouds are still moving softly, making me aware of the time passing. Calming me from the anxiety and uncertainty my life has been lately. 

The sun starts to sink into the water. The sky becomes blue and starts to darken in a matter of seconds. The heat is left behind. I love warm afternoons. Being able to watch the sunset at the beach and have the time to absorb it all. I no longer miss those summer nights though. I’d much rather have these times by myself, not having to deal with people’s expectations, finally being the real me. 

  My fingers start to play with the pill, feeling every edge and surface. I look down at my hand. Today’s the last day I can take it. I always liked dramatic exits like those we see in the movies. And I finally have the chance to have my own. My brain is still amazed by the size and power contained in this. And I love how easily that power can be transferred into me. I have the power now. Breathe in. Breathe out. Freedom. I am enough. I close my hand. I’ve never had this much power. I want my life to be normal again. And I know that with this it will finally be.

I get up. The sand is still warm from all those hours of heat. I bring the pill to where the sun used to be. I take a deep breath. My life’s changing and I’m so proud of who I have become. I raise my hand up high and toss it. The pill starts to fly, slowly making its way into the sky and diving rapidly into those waters. I’m free! I’m not how I was supposed to be.  But I know I have my whole life to figure out what that is. Me and my child, together.

  I start to make my way back to my house leaving the beach behind. I don’t need it anymore. My life is full, and this is just the beginning of something that I know will be what was always meant to be. The day turns into night and the waves start to speed up covering all the sand. The clouds go back to their usual rush and the wind brings back the staggering cold we are all used to. I’ve pressed the unpause button. It’s over. My life is about to start.