“I’m calling and making you an appointment at the clinic. Your grandma will come get you and you can figure out what to do when you get back,” she shouts, completely disregarding her prior statement. This woman is a fucking nutjob, I swear.
“Sure, mom. Whatever you want. I’ll be in my room packing, just in case.” I yell behind me, just as I reach my bedroom door.
Going to my bed, I drop down and cover my hands with my face. Blowing out a deep breath, I wonder how the fuck I got here. Was I always so jaded to the world? Did I really give such a little fuck about my own life that I just went along with things no matter how shitty they were? At what point do I decide that I’m worth more and try to do better with my life? Everything feels so heavy right now and to be honest, I’m really fucking scared. I don’t want to ruin my kid like my family ruined me. He or she deserves the world and one way or another, I’m gonna give it to them. I’m going to do right by this baby if it’s the last thing I do.
“I love you, little bean.” I whisper to my still flat tummy. There’s nothing physically there yet, but I think it’ll be good to keep talking to the baby.
“I think you’re going to be a girl,” I say. “I’m going to love you and read to you and sing to you all the time. We are going to learn and grow together. I might fail but I’ll try my very best every single day to do right by you, I swear. There won’t ever be a day that you don’t feel loved, do you hear me?” I keep my voice at a low whisper so my mom can’t hear me. Lord knows I’ve dealt with enough of her crazy today.
“Knock, knock” I hear my Grams voice on the other side of my door.
“That was fast.” I mutter more to myself than her as I open the door.
“Oh, I was in the neighborhood. Your mom had asked for me to come over today to pick up Niko a week ago. Apparently, she’s trying to bring the party home this weekend and ‘doesn’t want him in her way’” She rolls her eyes and gives me a knowing grin. This isn’t the first nor will it be the last time mom pawns one or the both of us off for the weekend like we’re little kids. Only three years apart, he’s practically an adult himself and doesn’t need Gram to chaperone him when I know for a fact he’d be happy to go chill with a friend for the weekend.
“I hear we’ve got some big news! Let’s get a move on, this wasn’t in the plans for today.” She says, ushering me out the door.
“You don’t have to do this. I was going to call the free clinic today to schedule something and I can always take the bus, or highjack mom's car.” I smirk, knowing it’ll piss her off that I drive mom's car without consent.
“A license is not a valid excuse for driving a car. If it doesn’t belong to you and you don’t have consent, it’s theft. Stop taking the car out illegally. Your mom is a spiteful little bitch and I’m not picking you up from jail, trust me, you donotwant to give birth in a cold cell.” Gram states.
“Sure things Grams,” I laugh.
She’s a no nonsense woman. She grew up with nothing, raised her kids with nothing, and simply calls it like she sees it. She’s not a bad lady, exactly, just stuck in her own ways I guess. But she’s always willing to help when she can. I think it has more to do with guilt of raising my mom to be a total asshole, but what do I know?
The drive is a longer one than expected. Apparently we aren’t going to the free clinic. Gram stops at a fancy artisan coffee shop and buys me a decaf caramel frappe with extra caramel and all the whipped cream, and a Hawaiian bagel with double cream cheese. It’s not a place you’d typically find us, but it all tastes really good so there won’t be any complaints from me.
My stomach happily gurgles as I finish the last of my food, just as we pull into the large parking lot of a massive skyscraper building in the heart of the city. This sucker has to be at least thirty stories high. It’s one of those kinds of plaza type buildings that has several offices in it.
We make our way up to the fifteenth floor and get out at a glass door that saysYour Choice, Family Services. It seems a weird name for a doctor’s office, but I assume it’s supposed to be clever and pregnancy related.
“Hi there! Welcome toYour Choice, do you have an appointment?” A cheerful young receptionist says.
“Hello, I think my mom called ahead for me. My name is Aria Morgan.” I say.
“Oh, of course! Go ahead and take a seat, we’ll have someone out shortly to get you and help you fill out all of the forms you’ll need to sign.”
“Thanks.” I say with a small wave.
This is incredibly uncomfortable. There’s gentle elevator music playing in the background and pictures of happy parents holding babies all over the place. Everything in this office is a neutral tan color and it’s kind of making me feel like I’m gonna puke. What’s meant to be calming is making me super nauseous and giving me all the bad vibes. I look to my grandma who’s contentedly peering through some parental magazines and when they call my name to go back, I realize I’m all on my own.
“I’ll be here when you’re ready, dear.” Gram says with a bleak smile.
“Okay, wish me luck?” I ask, unsure of how to do any of this. Gram tips her head in a small nod and I know that I’m just going to have to suck it up and deal with it.
I follow the woman into an office. First of all, if this place is a doctor’s office, shouldn’t the nurse be in scrubs or something? Second, why are we in an office? What the hell did mom get me into?
“All right, here we are. Hello Aria, my name is Agatha Charles and I’m a counselor here atYour Choice. Here are some brochures to help you make your decision on what to do next. I understand that we will be choosing one of these two options I’ve previously discussed with your mother. If you don’t like the options provided, we have a few more alternatives, they are just a little less conventional, so to speak, though highly profitable for all involved.” A forced falsetto tinkles through the air, traveling over me as though I’ll need the soft lilt to the voice attached to soothe me.
Although, when I peer into the dark brown, almost black, eyes of the woman speaking I see something hidden there, just under the surface of her facade, and it isn’t comforting or pretty like she’d have you believe. Her voice is meant to calm people but her eyes give away how vile she really is. If you pay close attention, you’ll notice that most people give away who they are through their eyes. It’s like a portal to their soul. You can pick up on someone’s vibe real fast if you’re paying attention. Some people, however, are more of a trickster, hence, how I got myself into this situation in the first place.
I pick up the pamphlets and see all sorts of brochures for adoption and abortion. Suddenly the whole situation makes more sense. Especially the name of the clinic. I feel so stupid for not seeing it for what it is.
“Are you implying that you’d be willing to buy my child? I don’t know what the fuck is happening right now but I was told I was going to see a doctor about my pregnancy, not some fucked up clinic that offers me an abortion or to offer ‘profitable services’.‘Unconventional alternatives?’Are you kidding? That’s code for illegal, right? There are no options for me here and fuck you for telling me there are.” I practically yell out, barely containing a lid on the building anger and hatred within me.
“Oh, my! I didn’t realize you weren’t aware of what we were doing here. Your mother seemed rather adamant that you didn’t want this baby. She just didn’t know which method you’d prefer to go with. I’m terribly sorry for the confusion. Of course we’d never do anything illegal here. We are completely above board with all of our adoption placements and our counselors are all perfectly capable of dealing with the grief for those who choose the alternative.” She says, acting like she had no idea what my mom was doing.
She should work on her acting skills though because I can see right through her. She’s a shady bitch who fully thought that if she didn’t give me an alternative option, I’d just give up my little bean. Or worse,sellmy baby. I hate school, yes, but I’m not dumb. The sooner people realize that the fucking better. I know a scam when I see one and this has the word illegal written all over it. I knew better than to trust my mom having a hand in anything to do with anything. She only deals with the devil.
