SEVENTEEN

Naomi, noticing the struck look on the younger girl’s face gave her a reassuring smile. “It’s not the end of the world, Elizabeth, don’t panic. You need tips? You come look for me.” After two soothing taps on Elizabeth’s left shoulder, she proceeded in the direction of the door and paused just as she held onto the knob, her sweet smile lingering. “Promise not to wear the perfume to the office as from today.”

When she was out the door, Elizabeth cupped her face and puffed her cheeks in and out. Obviously, she was going to panic, she didn’t even know who the man was that she shared a bed with the last time she had sex. She hoped, desperately, that she was just coming down with a fever. 

Elizabeth was pregnant. 

Few days later, two pregnancy test strips and a hospital test result laid on the table of her living room. Yes, the first test strip she used marked twice then she tried it the second time because she couldn’t believe her eyes. The strip marked twice once again like the first one had, as if to mockingly tell her. “You thought it was joking, uh?” Then, still not believing what the results read, she had gotten out of the house and rushed to the catholic hospital in town to get herself tested. And the result was there. Positive. “You’re still pregnant!” The result hadn’t told her that literally but that was what looking at it seemed like to her. 

In the darkness of her room, she laid silent, her eyes were pressed shut and she could barely hear anything apart from the occasional rise and fall of her chest as she inhaled and exhaled. But her head was definitely not quiet as her room had been. Different thoughts were bustling and hustling, fighting to surface to the very top. How could she have forgotten to use pills the day after? How could she forget the man’s name? The one thought that haunted her the most was: How could she make the same mistake as the woman who had birthed her? 

Elizabeth didn’t like remembering about her mother. That woman hadn’t raised her. That woman hadn’t loved her. That woman had rejected her when she was just five. Elizabeth had been of a result of gang rape, she certainly didn’t like remembering that either. Her mother had been raped by a group of college boys at the age sixteen. According to the story Matthew, her grandfather, had told her when she turned 18. Shera, her mother had been a very sweet girl. She had gotten invited to a party by a friend, she had gone there in all innocence, and then she had been raped by a couple college boys who had come into town as tourists. Even before she regained consciousness and made her way back home, the four boys were long gone and out of town. 

They were never seen again. 

Elizabeth pulled the duvet over her head and turned around, her teeth chattering and her body shivering. She didn’t feel too good. She had come down with extreme fever and cold. Her head roared with pain, and she was extremely cold even with the thick blanket over her head. Her eyes stung with tears un-shed, trying her absolute best to hold back and not cry, not remember. But she had held on to that memory a little too long till it became fuzzy, vague and distinct. The last time she had seen her mother. Had her hair been dark blonde or chestnut brown? 

The memory was vague now but Elizabeth was sure it was late at night.  

Shera had led her to the stairs leading up to her grandfather’s house, with a note in hand, and her favorite toy tied to her back with a scarf. Elizabeth remembered a little of the woman crouching to place endless kisses over her small face. She had tears in her eyes, and down her cheeks. And then she’d shooed her baby girl up the stairs, to sit in front of the house when she was pretty certain her father had been out of town and wouldn’t be back until the next day. Elizabeth remembered watching her mother’s figure disappear into the night as she walked farther away, then she got up and ran after her. 

Tears ran down her face and her tiny voice called out in desperation. “Mommy! Mommy!” Her little legs chased after, her hair flailing in the cold night air. But her left foot had collided into a stone and she had fallen face first into the floor. When she got back up, desperate to follow after her mother’s figure, blood trails ran down her knees and her petrified cries of agony should have brought her mother back. 

But no, she never returned. 

After that day, Shera was never seen in town again. 

Or anywhere.

She was never seen again.

The note however had been kept away till Elizabeth turned eighteen. It was simply; I hope you understand now that you’re older and grown. I couldn’t keep you. I crave a normal life, a normal family, with a father involved. And I found my own person. You on the other hand is a rejection. I should have gone through with an abortion instead, I’m sorry for causing you pain. From Shera to Elizabeth at eighteen. 

The sound of a phone ringing had pierced through the silence of the room and had jolted Elizabeth out of her sleep. A quivering, shivering mess, she pushed the duvet off her and struggled to stand on her feet. Her bones throbbed beneath her flesh as if to expand her skin and pierce through them as she began walking. Almost swaying on her Jellified legs, she began to follow the sound of the ringing through the darkness of the entire house. It was early, it seemed, because it was still dark out and the cold was extreme. 

Her arms outstretched like she were blind once she was in the living room, searching for the light switch, once she found it, the light came on after the click sound of the switch. The darkness was instantly drowned out, causing Elizabeth to squint because the ache in her head also intensified. The surroundings of the room was littered with papers, drawing ones, folded ones, squeezed into balls. Mannequins were in different corners, displaying most of her recent works and designs. Clothing material pieces also participated in the littering of her space. In the corner of the living room was her sewing machine, there was a work in halt, and Elizabeth wished nothing more than to sit behind that machine and continue her work. 

But not in that current situation, until she got better. Ross had given her the week off. 

Elizabeth found her phone on the table, next to her very positive pregnancy results. Her fingers quivered as she lifted up the device and peered into it. The time was just a little past six in the morning, she confirmed through the digital time on her phone. A Monday morning. She had been swindling in and out of bed the past two days which was Saturday and Sunday till she completely lost track of time. The two missed calls were from Holly, and a strings of text messages. She had left a message informing her about the pregnancy the day she had conducted the texts and she was just getting a response two days after. 

Elizabeth wasn’t mad. She understood that Holly was too swindled with work and had little to no time for personal relationships. As she settled into the couch behind her and read through the texts, Elizabeth couldn’t deny she missed her friend being around so much. She needed comfort, Holly always gave comfort. 

Matthew, her grandfather, always did too. 

But he wasn’t even in town. He hadn’t been since he had aged so much and her aunt Shelly decided he was in the city with her where she could watch over him and monitor his health. So his house in Warmaukey, the place Elizabeth had grown was empty and locked away till anytime he’d back in town. She doubted it was anytime soon. She doubted he was ever coming back. 

Holly’s texts had shown nothing more than concern, a little bit of panic; 

What do you mean you’re pregnant? You and Josh haven’t been together since last year. Has he been in town recently? Have you been seeing him behind my back?

For a moment, Elizabeth thought Holly sounded like a jealous lover who had trust issues. But this was just how her friend was. She had always been overprotective over Elizabeth and anything related to her. 

Elizabeth began texting back a reply, including her plan to visit the hospital once again.