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I stroked the fur of the stuffed animal within my arms. Plush and soft under my fingertips, I lovingly stroked the fur of my beloved Chip (mentioned in part I). The fur of which had seen many rinse cycles and many a tumble in the dryer. Though, he was decent looking, not new mind you, but well enough to be loved by another caring child. I would save him for the one within my body. The one no larger than the size of a pea yet grew everyday to what all embryos transform into.

I set the doll aside and raised my t-shirt. The hand that previously stroked the soft stuffed animal’s fur now stroked a circle around what flesh I thought the pea sized human to lie beneath. Middle finger lovingly ghosted over the skin, and I trembled under my own hand as memories flooded my consciousness.

Evan. He was behind and submerged deep within the recesses of my pliant body, his right hand gently rubbing the soft skin of my lower torso. His hand moved then, lower, to rub at the fire that he had ignited. Showing me in action, not words how much he truly cared about me. Though, then I had not known it to be love. Going through the experience of what happened recently in my head once again, I knew now that at that moment in time, the love was there, yet undiscovered until it was abruptly taken away.

Abruptly is too lax a word, possibly snatched away. Such love tainted and labeled sin, thus made forbidden! This taboo sin was made illegal in the eyes of our country and our countrymen by our country and countrymen. Every morning of a school day, what was recited like a prayer is to those of religious faith? I pledge allegiance to the flag until I fuck up. Then said country and countrymen will lock me away and throw the key down the toilet, while I ‘pay’ for the corrupted sins that I had enjoyed to the full extent of their sinful goodness. Goodness indeed, for the sight of a mental image memory of Evan’s naked body above my own decided to pop up to let me have a gander at it.

I am bitter to say the least, and why shouldn’t I? My mind has gone over point A to point B and somewhere along the line I got screwed, and not just literally. My left hands fingers twined in the cord of the corded phone of which was silent at my side. My right hand rested on the skin that protected the pea-sized life within me. Suddenly something struck me; I would have to name the little bugger within me. Whether boy or girl did not matter he or she were surely to come whether I decided to name it or not. Alice, no. Albert, no. Anton, hell no. This was harder than I thought it to be, and with no Evan to help me.

I was jarred out of my thoughts as the phone rang beside me. I quickly answered it. “Hello?” There was only silence before, “Hello, may I speak to Melody?” I smiled, “This is she.” Something changed on the other end, “Ah, yes. Melody, I have a proposition for you. This is Evan’s father by the way, and I was wondering how you feel about an abortion.” My brows instantly drew together, had I just heard what I thought I just heard?

“Pardon me?” I stuttered. “An abortion. For the bastard within you.” What a shock! The same man that I had seen so many weeks ago, tired and forlorn from working a decent job for a decent wage and for a decent country! “B-bastard?” My voice was trembling at the thought of what he was implying and with such a steely voice behind those foul words. Fear consumed me. “Yes, since it would be born out of wedlock and since the fact that there is no way that you would be able to marry my thirteen year old child. You see, my dear, you are considered an adult. With that privilege, you have the power to deny that child life.” My throat closed on me, I paled, and my mouth dried out.  My silence urged him on. “You -do- understand what would happen if you chose to keep the child, do you not?”

“Yes,” I croaked, tears welling my in eyes. Deceit, treachery, -blackmail-. If I so chose to let the child within me live, it would be born in a prison. Cold concrete, steel bars, nothing a child should be subjected to. My thoughts evoked tears. Those tears that burned my eyes and cheeks like salty fire. My blurred vision looked around my room. Nothing would ever be the same.

“If you want, I have a friend of mine that would do the job at half price. That is if you accept to destroy what unspeakable sins you and my…son have created in so doing those unspeakable sins. I will also pitch in to pay for the, job.” The trembling of my body and the tears that flowed freely down my face did not seem to come to an end any time soon. “Of course there is always the -other- choice, and if you choose that, well lets disconnect this call so that I may make another.” He was playing the cards he had very well. So well it had seemed that he had read my mind and pushed all of the buttons that needed to be pushed. When had this man found faith in a religion?

I sniffled, “S-sure.” I could hear him smiling through the phone, what evil had taken over such a genteel man? “Excellent! I will be at the only -abortion- clinic in town. Be there by seven.” The call ended, though my hand was still gripped around the handle of the corded phone. My knuckles were white, a contrast to the face that those knuckles were so close; my cheeks burned bright crimson, stained with tears, and eyes blurring with more. I blinked them back, this is for the best, this is for the best, this is for the best.
***
There I was again, lying upon my twin bed that rested against a wall that was stabbed with nails to carry the burden of picture frames and the like. I had it done. The ‘unspeakable sin’ of which resulted in something more, was destroyed. It was cold. I was cold, and empty. I was empty, and all to purge myself of sin?

I stared at the ceiling above me. The so-called doctor was not at the abortion clinic. He was waiting at the end of a drive in front of a yellow house. There I was led in. There I almost died.

The procedure was slow and fast at the same time. One minute -it- was there and the next -it- was not. Something went wrong, and then…blackness.

I awoke hobbling on my feet. I tried to glance behind, but was pushed into my car. I sat there for some moments. Looking at nothing in particular, then off to dream world I went again.

Evan was there. Sweet kisses were exchanged between us. His tongue delved into my mouth and laved at my bashful tongue. My hands caressed his face, and he, in turn, caressed mine.

As if on a cloud, we laid together, silently showing our affection by petting and nuzzling softly before resting in a sweet cuddling embrace.

It didn’t last that way for long, I was hearing voices. I squeezed my eyes shut tight grasping at that bit of happiness only found in my dreams. “Massive bleeding…” I scrunched my nose at that. “we -had- to operate…”

“That’s fine, as long as she is alive and well.” That voice! …My mother. I could feel her soft fingertips, made soft by lotion, caressing my hair, pushing it back and out of my face. My eyes cracked and a sliver of florescent light blinded me. I cringed, “They took it out. They took it all out.” I opened my eyes and squinted at what form I thought to be my mother. “Hysterectomy, your…insides were destroyed beyond repair.” My mother was grasping at words to describe in the best possible way what had happened while I was in dream world.

By that time that I had realized what she had said, my eyes stared blankly at a white wall. I knew my mother was struggling not to cry, or at least fake cry. She had no idea what I was going through, and neither did I. I was numb.

At that moment in time I was numb. I didn’t feel anything anymore. I didn’t want to.

Things changed though, though, not for the better.
***
I went back to school when I was feeling better, but hopped up on drugs or not from the pain medication that the real doctor prescribed me for pain, I had to go anyway. I walked slower, things seemed duller, and I seemed to be in a haze that never left me no matter how fast or slow I walked. I felt someone brush against me, but I just ignored whoever had done it.

Then, another person brushed against me, and then another. I stopped in the middle of the hallway and looked around, people seemed to be going in the same direction, that crowd of which I was fighting against to go in the opposite direction. I turned and decided to follow those students that seemed to be in a rush to find something.

I followed them all the way to the auditorium. As soon as I got there I plopped into a seat, breathless and exhausted from the exertion it took to climb stairs and what not to get to the auditorium. I looked around. It was filled with talking high school and junior high school students.

I leaned back into my chair in one of the back rows where no one graced me with their company. It suited me. I suppose the whole ordeal that I went through was old news by now to any of the passerby that quickly moved to sit and wait what was to come. I slid back more into the padded auditorium seat that I sat in and propped my feet against the one ahead of me. The burgundy of the seats disturbed me for some reason, and decided to advert my eyes to a cream painted wall.

A voice, known to everyone as that of the principle, spoke through a microphone on stage that reverberated through the sound system and through the loud speakers into the students’ ears. “Children, I have devastating news.” A hush fell over the crowd of students that were only a moment ago chattering animatedly with hand gestures and illuminated faces. Everyone was serious, and I looked around at the faces that I knew, and some that I did not know. “Evan Branson…”

I immediately looked to that of the old gray haired, clean-shaven man with his pressed shirt and slacks. His tie was one of a burgundy color. I glared at that tie. “A well known seventh grader…” I looked into the eyes of that gray haired man in his gray colored eyes. Those eyes that knew and seen so much in such a short span of life. Though by his looks, a long span of life. He wore glasses perched on his sloped nose and pushed them up before …

“Committed suicide last night.”

I realized my mother never asked me who the father of my unborn dead fetus of a child, was. My stomach growled, I hadn’t eaten breakfast. I looked around and noticed I was looking for something, or rather someone unconsciously. I leaned on my armrest and faintly heard the sounds of weeping, I ignored it. Instead of listening to those -stupid- people weeping for someone they did not know or hardly knew, I listened to the principle.

“A viewing is to be held tomorrow at Niday Memorial Funeral Home at five o-clock.” With that his speech had ended and he was left to exit stage left to mourn (in his own way) for the student he never knew. The fact that Evan had actually died hadn’t taken hold of me yet. I had other plans for the future. How that may seem harsh, it was true.

I waited, for I was as patient as one could be concerning things such as this. Today had turned into tomorrow, oh so many days had passed since the last time Evan and I had had that wonderful exploit in his parents’, scratch that, despicable, anal, -asshole- parents’ lush, luxurious bed.

I twiddled my thumbs a moment before entering the ‘point of no return’, the funeral home to be exact. I was one hour earlier than the time of the viewing of Evan’s body. No one was around, odd for a funeral home, usually there were mourners out and about. I walked casually, dressed in black like a mourner would be and peeked into each room before finding one with three caskets.

I found this odd since Evan was in the casket nearest to me. The other two were closed and pushed closer to each other than they were to Evan’s casket. I, for the most part, ignored the extra caskets in Evan’s casket viewing room and walked over to view my slumbering love.

I bent over the varnished wood of the casket he laid in and pressed my lips to his. I sang for him, opened the casket fully and lay with him. I caressed his soft hair. This is not like Romeo & Juliet, I reminded myself.
My love, was lost through idiocy, bad judgment, and the notion that what Evan and I had was wrong.

My babe, perished. My love, perished. All was left, was I.

Oh, I. I would not live long. My babe did not even receive a burial as this, my love would. I caressed his silken cheek, and kissed his lips tenderly. I extracted something, a weapon of sorts. I let it kiss my succulent skin, the skin that held my organs together. It bit at me hard, but all was forgotten when I saw that angelic face. That face blurred, and I cried out!
***
“Melody…”

“Melody…”

I heard my name being called and opened my eyes tentatively. If what I heard was true! If -what- I heard was -true-!

He was the same as ever. He was, “Evan!”

FIN(?)~

P.S. I hope you(dear reader) enjoyed this, leave a line(comment) if you did. If not tell me why, so that I may improve!