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But my mom?
How can anyone abandon their child so easily? With so little remorse?
My hand instinctively falls to my belly again, and a chill runs through me, just thinking of what's to come.
I see shadows moving up above, and I quickly walk away from the window and continue on to the store.
The last thing I want is for my mom to see me lurking outside her window like some creep. She'd probably laugh in my face and tell me to get a life.
Yes, my mom would definitely say something like that.
My chin wobbles, the over inflated hormones inside of me taking over. I'm not usually an emotional person, but this day is already throwing me for a loop and it's barely even started.
Opening the door to the corner store, the little bell above me rings loud and obnoxiously. I keep my head down, not wanting to be noticed or conversated with. Not today.
Walking to the feminine hygiene section, I keep my eyes glued to the different boxes available as dread starts seeping in. Why are there so many?
One, two, three, four,shit. There aresomany brands. Which one am I supposed to choose? Do I get the one with the plus and minus or just get the one that sayspregnantornot pregnant?
And why are they so damn expensive?
My heart starts racing, and I grab two of the first ones I can reach, shoving them under my arms and speed walking to the cashier. I avert my eyes as the cashier scans and bags the tests and instead pretend to be interested in my phone, when in fact all I'm doing is scrolling through my Facebook feed at a speed that I can't read anything anyway.
I give them cash out of my pocket and snatch the bag off the counter, not even waiting for the change or my receipt.
The bell jingles again when I open the door to leave, but I barely give it a passing glance as I walk out of there like my ass is on fire. I race home, not even looking at that damn apartment above the bar this time around.
When I get home, I race into my bathroom and shut the door, grab the bottom of the bag and tip it over, spilling the tests onto my bathroom counter.
I grab the first one and look it over, reading the pink box that tells me it'snearlyone hundred percent accurate and can practically tell you you're pregnant before you even get pregnant.
I roll my eyes. Whatever. Let's just get this over with.
I open the pink box and the blue box and grab the sticks out. Sitting down on the toilet, I shove the first stick between my legs, and then the next one. I bite my lip as my eyes fill with tears, and then gasp out a sob as I finish going to the bathroom.
I don't want this.
I wipe and flush, putting the sticks on the bathroom counter and then shuffling over to the other side of the bathroom, sitting down on the floor and folding my knees up against my chest, wrapping my arms around my legs and laying my forehead against my knees.
I don't want this.
I sniffle, hating what's happened and praying it isn't true, even when I know without a doubt, it is.
I don't know how long I'm supposed to wait, since I didn't read the directions fully. But I do know I'm supposed to wait at least a couple minutes.
I close my eyes.
And wait.
* * *
"Cara! Are you almost ready?"Banging on the bathroom door startles me from sleep.
I roll my neck to the side to relieve the stiffness and shout, "Hold on!"
I stand up, momentarily confused on why I'm on the bathroom floor. One glance at the bathroom counter and I'm reminded.
Those fucking sticks.
