Thursday, March 11, 2010


Labor - 318 Words
Lindsey Thompson

Annabelle nervously twisted her necklace as she stared at the edge of the sink, waiting. Her necklace, a gift when she turned 16, was a gold heart locket containing two pictures, one of her mother and one of her boyfriend. She would have included her siblings, but she had none, and her father took off with another woman when Annabelle was six. She opened and shut the locket's clasp rhythmically, in time with the ticking grandfather clock that lived just outside the bathroom, clicking gently.

Enough time had passed. With great weight, she moved to the sink and held up a thin white stick. Her breath came in short, shallow spurts as she saw two lines grace her vision. Head reeling, she sat down once again on the closed toilet as her whole body began to shake. Her heart pounded as the grandfather clock announced a new hour.

All Annabelle could think about was labor. The entire nine months of carrying a child, watching what she ate, sleeping only certain ways, staying away from the alcohol she'd been illegally consuming, visits to the doctor, all of that passed her by as she imagined the day she would have to birth the child. When her water broke, would it stain or ruin anything? How long would she be in labor? Couldn't she die of labor or in childbirth or something? What if the baby was turned sideways? She was pretty sure she couldn't birth a baby sideways. And God forbid, what if they don't get to the hospital in time to get an epidural?


She froze her thoughts there. Her boyfriend, her mother, her friends… They would surely not support her, not continue to love her the same way. Filled with scorn, their sympathies would come out of pity.

Her decision was made. There was no way she would make it through labor, she concluded with a sigh.

I Can Feel A Hot One - Manchester Orchestra

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