Ghost Not Forgotten

XI: Then

In some ways, it felt like the baby left almost as quickly as it came.

It didn't help that I didn't even realize what was happening to me until it was almost too late. And even then, I didn't really accept it, or want to. I was so deep, so lost in the emotional black hole Bennet's disappearance had caused, I didn't even connect what puking in the morning and being dizzy from time to time could mean.

Plus, I was 16 in a town that wasn't exactly big on teaching sex ed (and it's not like my mama would ever bother to give me "the talk"), so even if I wasn't in emotional hell, I'd probably still have no clue what all the weirdness was. In my dumb head, I'd probably think I was dying of cancer or something.

Being depressed over Bennet also helped hide the truth from the others. My paleness, my tiredness, my lack of appetite, my dizziness – it was all because I missed Bennet so much I was falling apart. I think only Della and Stanley were ever suspicious.

It wasn't until right before the end that I finally crawled out of my hole long enough to recognize the sign. The little twinge in my stomach – which hadn't grown at all – that tiny little hiccup feeling, told me there was something – someone – in there.

And when I realized that, I was stricken, stricken with a panic I had never felt before. I honestly didn't know what to do. Now I could tell you a dozen things I should've done – I should've gone to Della or Stanley, I should've tried to take better care of myself, I should've come up with some kind of plan of how to deal with it all – but I was so scared. Petrified. I couldn't bring myself to speak. To accept. I just kept moving, I think a part of me hoped that somehow it would go away if I ignored it.

I knew my mama would kill me, or at least kick me out. She had been saying for years this was gonna happen, because I was too stupid to not let it. And if it did happen, I was on my own. She would be done with me.

At the time, the threat didn't hold much water because I had Bennet and I knew I wouldn't be alone. I'd be with the one person I wanted to be with anyway and we'd handle it together. So I told her – in my mind – to fuck off, I'd be fine.

I never expected him to not be there, and maybe that did make me stupid. And him too. I thought back to that night, the last night in Burty's barn, the night we forgot the condom. We thought what the hell? It was only one time. What could one time do?

That had been about six months earlier. A few weeks later, Bennet disappeared.

The day it ended moved like a slow fog. I remember waking up thinking something wasn't right. Something was off. I just figured I was missing Bennet especially hard that day and so tried to push the feeling away. I was tired of missing Bennet; I didn't want to think about it.

Then it was like someone whispered in my ear. And I thought real hard, suddenly realizing I hadn't felt the hiccup in my belly in a while. Could've been a day could've been five, I wasn't sure. I hadn't exactly been keeping track.

Then I got the cramps. When I sat up in bed, I saw the blood on the sheets. I saw it had soaked my pajamas, my blankets. I wondered if it went all the way down to my mattress.

It should've scared the shit out of me, considering how stupid and out of it I was, I'm surprised I didn't think I was dying. I didn't know anything about miscarriage, what happened and all that, why would I?

But that little voice kept whispering. As the cramps got worse and worse, as my back began to ache so bad I nearly fell to the floor, I knew it wasn't me who was dying.

The little hiccup was.

Somehow, I got to the bathroom, shuffling on my hands and knees and thanking God that my mama was gone on her early Saturday double-shift. I shut the door, pulled off my pajamas, and laid on the cool tile. As the cramps began to push downward, as I felt like my lower body was splitting in half, I cried.