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Suitcase in hand, you head to the station. 

“It’s better this way.” You remind yourself, “She’ll be better off.”

Reality snaps back into focus as you find yourself passing through the doors of the bus station, as if your body were on autopilot the whole way.  The whole scene before you is dreary, as if the world has been washed in grey. The few, exhausted people there are slumped in chairs that are falling apart.  Walking across a stain marked floor, you walk up to a booth and ask for a ticket.

“Where to?” The man asks, voice void of any and all emotion or interest.  


“One way?” It could’ve been a lucky guess.  Then again, you aren’t exactly screaming any desire to come back.


The man hands over the ticket, “Next bus leaves at 1, so you have about an hour.”

You mumble a thankyou before taking a seat. Best option is to wait here, not like anything’s open at this time of night.  

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. She was supposed to be the one.

There was something about her. Something special.  You didn’t say “special” because of its complimentative but universal characteristics.  You would call her special because there was no other way to explain it. She herself once said “There are just some things that just can’t be explained by words, ya know?” You did know, because you experienced that every time you were with her.

You two said that you’d keep in touch after high school. Unlike every other pair of lovesick teenagers who said the same thing, you two actually had. Maybe there wasn’t a conversation every week, but when you did talk it was as if no time had passed at all.  You just got each other.

Of course you jumped at the chance to spend the summer together. Firstly it was her, and secondly you didn’t have any other options.  Anyone else would’ve done the exact same thing.

Besides, it was one of the best summers ever! Swimming in the nearby lake, dancing like a blind one-legged hippo (her words), talking and drinking until sunrise.  What twenty year old would miss out on something like that!?

Of course a summer of mindless fun would lead to something like this, it’s not your fault! You didn’t choose for this to happen! 

You’re twenty years old. You still have two year of college AT LEAST. And after that you’ll have your student loans to worry about.  You can’t handle this! You can’t handle it.


It ruined everything.

Admitting that may be a bit harsh, not like it chose to be conceived.  But she hadn’t chosen that either, and you sure as hell didn’t want that thing around.  For Christ sake, you’re twenty! Twenty year olds biggest worry is that they won’t be ready for finals.  Their biggest regrets are stupidly drunk texting their ex and forgetting to refill the gas tank. 

Not this.

It’s not like you can do anything.  You don’t have any money, neither does your family.  And it’s not like you know how to change diapers or anything. Hell, you just learned how to make scrambled eggs a couple months ago!  You can’t even take care of yourself, there’s no way you’d be any help if you stayed.

She’s smart and responsible.  You’re not. Her parents aren’t billionaires, but they’re still pretty well off.  Your parents still have two kids to put through college.  Plus, she did say something about wanting kids one day.  Sure, she probably didn’t want them so soon, but she still wanted them.  You haven’t even put thought towards them.  And if she really, really thought she wasn’t ready for this she has other options.

Sure, the guy on TV who walks away from his pregnant girlfriend is a dick, but you’re not that guy! You’re not walking away just because you’re a selfish, heartless ass.  You’ve thought this through. You know that this isn’t just the best course of action for you, but also for her.  

You stare up at a clock to realize almost no time has passed at all.  You’re tired of sitting here. You wish you were home in bed under the covers next to her.  But you’re not. And you’re never going to be.  

You’re never going to wake up next to her again.  You’re never going to taste her french toast again. You’re never going to debate over conspiracy theories again.  You’re never going to hear her belt Disney songs again. You’re never going to…

You’re never going to find anyone like her again.

Because there is no one else like her.  There is no other Marlyn Rosanne Bells.

You can’t do this.  You can’t just walk away from her. You can’t just walk away from your baby.

You pull yourself up and you walk out of the dreary as hell bus station.  Walking into the fresh night, you pull out your phone and you call Marlyn.  

“Hello.” A tired voice answers.

“M-Mary… I-I-I… Mary I….” You take a deep breath.  You hadn’t quite thought about what you were going to say.  But in your defense, you’re a twenty year old boy. You clearly don’t really think in general. “It’s me, Conner.  Mary I am so so sorry.  I-I wasn’t thinking.  I was just trying to help myself.  I didn’t even consider you or the baby.  This isn’t an ideal situation, but it’s our situation, a-and I promise we can figure something out.  I-I don’t want- I can’t just leave you.”

There’s a long moment of silence until, “Conner, where are you?”

“...the bus station.”

“Okay, I’ll come pick you up. Just don’t leave, okay?”

“Trust me, I’m not leaving.”

From the author: Hey, if you made it all the way to the end firstly thankyou. And secondly I’m always looking for some constructive criticism to help improve my writing.  So if you have any tips or advice please feel free to leave a comment. Thank you!

June 27, 2020 02:56

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1 comment

Nicole Won
04:17 Jul 02, 2020

This is so good! I think you could add more physical details: stuff that's happening around the character as he thinks, just to keep it from being too much stream of consciousness. You could add in some metaphor or symbolism to the setting to give it a deeper meaning. Great job :)


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