It reminds me of the automatic shower cleaner commercial. The little scrubbing bubbles with smiling faces attach to the water droplets left over on your shower walls looking like scattered pieces of a mosaic, much like the raindrops plopping on my face. Damn the shower cleaner. The other day I hadn’t completely closed the door and the little sucker shot me right in the eye. The boyfriend laughed his ass off about that one.

Just like he’d laughed when I’d told him I was pregnant. He’s thrown back his golden head, flashing his pearly whites, and roared.

“This is why I keep you around,” he said clapping me on the shoulder. “You are a riot.”

It had taken nearly five minutes to convince him. The grin slowly dissipated like a stream drying up in a drought and his jovial face darkened with every word I spoke. For some reason, he seemed angry with me rather than the other way around. Shouldn’t I be furious with him? He’d pressured me after all.

He frightened me.

In a desperate effort to cool his heating temper, I made the blunder of babbling. I couldn’t stop talking. The words kept tumbling out. There was no off switch. My brain shut down and my lips took control, flapping and flapping, like a desperate bird’s wings trying to escape a predator. My mouth did not stop.

Until he delivered a savage blow to my abdomen.

“You said you were on the pill. Take care of this problem. Or I will.”

So now here I sat, huddled under a bush, fleeing like that helpless bird for my life – for our lives – as the water droplets trickled down my face.

Copyright Rosemary Lauryn. All rights reserved.


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