I am trembling, shaking. I feel anxiety crawl it’s way up through my throat, like a small pipe, crawling and scratching its way to the top. And it spills, it topples over.
I am crying sobbing. My body fights between deep exhales and heavy tears.
I am so weak and scared and red faced.
Please, just oh please, don’t let me be pregnant.
I pray so hard, i scream the words in my head so loud the walls listen in. They eavesdrop, and shake their heads in disgust.
Please father, please don’t let me be pregnant. I have a life, I have goals and dreams and aspirations and friends and family and a ‘miracle’ would be anything but.
Please my redeemer, i am aching and sore from fear. I feel my body churning, forming.
Is it possibly to feel pregnant after only a few days?
I know, I know in my heart the ending of this story. the smart girl who shook her head at every naive pregnant teen, the smart girl who didn’t do drugs, rarely drank, rarely gave in to sensual passions with strangers.
The smart girl, left here sobbing. Sobbing, with a body churning and storming and planning something evil. I know, I know the ending of this story.