The Man on the Moon (The Man Duology)

Chapter 6

"How long do we have to wait?"

"I think I did it wrong."

"How the hell do you do a pregnancy test wrong?"

"I don't know, the line isn't showing up."

"Give me that!"

"That has my pee on Georgi-"

My entire world stopped. Suddenly, it felt like I was trying to breathe through concrete, someone sitting on my chest or my wind pipe being compressed. No amount of metaphors or similes could describe the shock horror my entire body felt. No word in the English dictionary could capture my dismay in all of its glory. Like stone, my body stood completely still. Every single muscle I possessed was tense and unable to move, as if I was a wax work at Madam Tussauds. Like hawks, my now tearful eyes saw everything in slow motion; the two blue lines, Georgia's exaggerated expressions, and my trembling, fragile hands in front of me. Although my vision was slowed down, my thoughts rushed around my head at the speed of sound. Harvey. Dad. Julia. My friends. Georgia. Her.

Georgia caused everything to go back to normal speed as she rested the first pregnancy test on my bathroom's island counter, wrapped her arms around my waist and pulled me close. "We'll get through this."

My face scrunched with confusion. "We?"

"Me, you and Harvey," She buried her face into my neck. "We'll get everything sorted, I promise, Eleanor, everything will be fine."

"We are not telling Harvey anything," A plan slowly unraveled in my mind, as I untangled Georgia from my body. "I'll go to Dad and Julia, they'll understand, won't they?"

She nodded, a slightly scared expression painted on her face.

"Harvey doesn't have to know anything," I choked, sniffling slightly and wiping the tears away with the edge of Georgia's sleeve. "Dad or Julia can authorize an abortion."

Georgia took a step back. "An abortion?" She shook her head and placed her hands onto her temples, her tone getting angrier; breathing getting deeper. "An abortion?"

"Yes, Georgia, an abortion," The words left a bitter taste in my mouth. "What about college? I can't have a kid yet, I am a kid."

"Doesn't mean you have to kill it," She snapped, her voice deep and rich with annoyance.

Swinging the door open and then slamming it shut, Georgia left me all alone in her bathroom; my back up against the radiator with my head in my hands. Through my stammering hands, I took multiple other tests... All with the same outcome.
Despite my best efforts to keep them back, tears came running down my face like Olympic athletes sprinting for gold. The breathing-through-concrete feeling casually wondered its way back to me and I found myself suffocating -- all on my own.

England didn't know the meaning of summer. To my knowledge, everyone in the world knew that. But, you never truly understand the meaning of pathetic fallacy until you are sluggishly walking home, in a zombie nature, and the rain is pouring down on you. On occasion, my tears would mix with the recycled ocean water, which drenched me from head-to-toe. My shoes were like a ship that was mid-way through sinking, and made a squelching noise every time I took a step. Normally, the ambition to get home would overpower how shitty I felt about the rain; I would solider on like a true champion. Home wasn't where I wanted to be. As soon as my foot scrapes the welcome mat, Dad and Julia would be asking if I'd had a good time at the fair, and why I wasn't home when I said I was going to be.
My hair began to feel heavy; sticking to my face. My clothes were so soaked, and lubricated, that it felt like they could slide off of me at any given moment. My body was no longer made of skin, flesh and bones -- it was made out of icicles, sleet and hail stones.