Nineteen Mistakes

The Appointment (pt. 2)

When life ends up genuinely fucked, you can trace it back to one decision

- Deadpool

Circumstance (N) – a fact or condition connected or relevant to an event or action

Numb. I feel numb.

My mind is an empty abyss where only guilt and remorse can pass. The fact that I took away a fetus' chance of having a life isn't the worst part, the worst part is that I put myself in a situation where I had to make this decision. The piper came knocking when I didn't have the money to pay him, so I suffered.

If I was the main character in a movie, at this moment I would have the dawning realization that this was for the greater good, turn my life around, and then I would never go through a struggle again. I would call my mother to tell her what happened because I would know that she loves me above all else and there is nothing I can keep from her. This isn't a movie and there won't be happy ending. All that will be left in the end is a pregnancy test, a medical receipt, and me.

The walk to the cab is a blur. The people around me becoming an undistinguishable crowd. I feel trapped. Constricted. Guilty. I run towards Mr. Benefield's cab as fast as my legs can carry me... I bang on the door when I reach. I'm so far gone I don't notice the arms wrapped around me until I can't move my own.

"Sh, sh, child. Just let it out, I'm here," Mr. Benefield's voice says calmly into my ear.

The sob that escapes my throat is a stranger to me. I can't stop the noise, I wail, I cry, I scream, until I my vocal chords hurt from the strain. Why are you crying? You made the decision, live with it, a sadistic voice whispers in the back of my head.

"Did someone... hurt you?" he asks after my crying has quieted to hiccups.

"No," is my whispered response.

"Did someone say something to you?"

"No."

"Then what happened?"

"I," I can't say the words to him, "I-I can't say it aloud."

"Speak. I can't help you unless you tell me what's wrong."

"I-I-I-I'm a failure," I whisper standing up taller, "I'm a failure and a disappointment, to my mother, to my grandmother, and if my father were still alive, I'm pretty sure he'd be disappointed in me too. It's just the fact that I slept with Noah, no not slept, through myself at him, but I got pregnant. I didn't use a condom – I'm just an irresponsible little girl and this proves it."

Mr. Benefield falls silent after what I have said to him. I decide not to wait for his response and get into the backseat of his cab. Whatever he must say, he could say it without looking me in the eye. I couldn't handle that, not right now with the sting of what I had just done still being felt. The kindness is what's killing me. The fact that a stranger is more concerned about my emotions than my own mother.

He follows my lead. Soon the only sound in the car are the windshield wipers squeaking against the glass. I don't know when it started raining; maybe when I was in the building or maybe when I was walking to the van, but it was. The clouds I saw earlier were now dark grey, they were angry and showed it by the flashes of lightning and sounds of rolling thunder. It seemed to be the perfect mood for the drive home.

The silence must have become unbearable to Mr. Benefield because he plays music to wash away the silence. classical music. Wordless, emotionless, classical music. To Mr. Scott, the music choice was the best, but to me, I imagined a life I could have based off this music. Every stroke of a viola a decision my mother didn't make for me, every note on a flute are friends I could've had, every pause is a breath I didn't waste arguing with my mother. Every second the music is a second in my other life where I never had sex with Noah.

The ride home is so quick that I don't realize the one-story home that I'm staring at is my own. We have been parked here for five minutes, with me just staring. The house may as well be an abandoned factory, because I was too afraid to go in by myself. In the back of my mind, I feel as if my mother will know what I did, that she'll see the guilt written all over my face and condemn to a life without sunlight.

"Nora I'm going to tell you a story," Mr. Benefield says to me, "okay? When I was twenty-two years old, I met my wife. It was love at first sight for me, she was so gorgeous and smart, I had to speak to her. It took her two weeks to say yes to me, this loud boy with a bad reputation, but she did. A month after we had officially started dating, she found out she was pregnant. Marnie, my wife, couldn't stop freaking out. She was crying and hyperventilating, I didn't know what I could do or say in that situation. She – we – decided to give the baby up. We made sure that our daughter was situated with a nice family and was going to have a wonderful life. I'm telling you this because I want you to know that everyone makes mistakes. You are not a failure and you are not a disappointment. You handled this situation with grace and level-headedness that most of the kids I trained at boot camp could only dream of having. Your mother should be proud that she raised a child with your character.

"Go inside and hug your mother, tell her you love her, tell her you are thankful for her every day. If you need anything do not hesitate to ask, okay?"

I can't seem to make myself respond, instead I choose to nod my head and exit the cab. The walk from towards my front-door is endless, I feel as if the weight of the world is on my shoulders. I stand in front of my house trying to catch my breath, I can't have my mother finding out what I did today. I can't have all my sneaking around be for nothing. It takes five minutes, but I am finally ready to enter my home.

My mother was waiting.

___

Hey guys, it's been a while. The many reasons that I haven't been updating would take too long to type, all I can say is that I'm sorry. Still, I would appreciate it if you told me what you thought so far, predict what you think is going to happen, and vote if you want to.

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