"You look at me, young lady!" The mother grabs the girl's chin with disrespect. The girl's face is forced to look at her mother this way, but her mind is somewhere else. She thinks about nothing for awhile, then she looks at her parents as if they were complete strangers to her. They look like this perfect couple, like something off of a tv sitcom. Mother, with her apron tied around her waist and hair that's just right: She looks like June Cleaver. And Father, he's wearing a sweater and smoking a pipe! He doesn't deserve to look like "Father Knows Best", not with the way he's been drinking! He's tapping his foot to emphasis mother's words. He makes me so sick. The girl's thoughts now turn to the faceless, nameless weasle that has ruined her life. I'll have to raise the child on my own. Or,perhaps,with their help. She thinks of the unborn child that her parents know nothing about yet. She feels the urge to tell them what has been sleeping inside her body for 2 months.
"mom. . . " she interupts
" How dare you! I'm not finished with you yet..." the mother begins to rant once more, but the girl interupts again.
" I'M PREGNANT, DAMN IT ALL!" The girl becomes hysterical and throws herself on the couch weeping. Her parents stand there staring in shock. Her 12 year old brother comes in, but's smart enough to keep his mouth shut. There's no sound in the room, except the swinging of the front screen door, for several moments.
Go to your room, Joey." The father says quietly. Joey obeidiently climbs the stairs, knowing that something is wrong, but not willing to question the icy tone that his father used. The father looks at his daughter with steel in his eyes, "I want you gone by the time I come home from work tommorrow." he pratically whispers it.
The girl turns around with horror in her eyes, the mother just looks like she's in shock. "but. ." the girl stammers.
"NO BUTS!" He thunders. He has never yelled like that before. He is a quiet,reserved man, although when he drinks he can be different. But not like this. He has always looked like Mr. Rogers, but now he looks more like that picture of Zeus: getting ready to throw a thunder bolt.
"Honey. . ." The mother finally comes out of shock.
"NO!" pause " I'VE DECIDED! There is nothing else to say." The father stomps out of the house in a fury.
" I'll talk to him, we'll figure something out, I. . ." The Mother's eyes brim with tears. The girl thinks she looks like a mother on a made for TV movie. This whole episode used up the last tears this girl is capable of crying. She cried a lot the night that man hurt her. Rage, fear, guilt, pain. . . everything that they say. She didn't know the guy that did it. Nameless, faceless. . . and yet he's responsible for ruining my life. For once she looked at her weeping Mother and smiled. It'll all work out. It'll have to.
The girl slunk up to her bedroom and collapsed on her bed, her body spent with the emotional overload. what did I do to deserve this? why do I have uncaring parents? Why did that thing pick me, and not some other woman walking around that night? I have a baby now, my life is over! Abortion? No, everything inside me screams no to that word! I could put it up for adoption. It's still an it, isn't it. I wonder if it's a he or she. I wonder when I'll know. What should I do? these were the thoughts of the girl with red barrettes in her hair just as her mother came into her room.
"You look much calmer, Mother."
"How did it happen? Who is the father? What did you do?"
she thinks this is my fault!"I don't know him, he. . ." the girl pauses as a flood of emotions threaten to overwhelm her. She regains her composure. "hurt me."
The mother pauses, a shocked look falling over her while the light of comprehension dawns in her eyes. " You don't mean. . ."
Yes, he hurt me, alright? Are you happy? Now you can make me get an abortion without feeling guilty!" The girl's voice rises as her anger contiues to grow, "What if I don't want to kill it? What if I wanted to raise it? Would you support me? No! Too embarrassed to admit that your own daughter could get pregnant!" She throws herself onto her bed and begins to cry again. It's a tearless sob, the kind that racks the body and does nothing to free the mind. The sob she lets out is full of anger and fustration. oh, what am I going to DO?
If you want to give me you literary analysis of this piece, or you simply want to say "it sucks" or "good work" then write to me at:chasingmicki@home.com
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