Pregnant For My Bully

Jason Davenport

“Can you stop that?” I snapped at the servant who kept adding more gel to my hair to make it fall backwards.

Her fingers froze mid-air as she cupped another handful of gel in her hand. She stared at me wide-eyed, waiting for my next order. Unsurprisingly, it only annoyed me further.

I tore the ridiculous bowtie off my neck and popped the first three buttons of the crisp white button-down I’d been forced to wear.

“Well, get the fuck out!” I spat, glaring at her.

“Oh!” She managed to yelp before dumping the blob of hair gel into the trash and practically running out of the room.

I let out a groan as the door shut behind her. Dad had decided to throw a small party with relatives and friends to introduce his “wife” to everyone. And now I had to dress up and smile and act like the child who’s so glad his dad had remarried.

Furious, I barged into the bathroom and washed the thick, slimy product off, only stopping when I was sure it was all gone.

I stared at myself in the mirror as I re-entered my room and watched the water drip off my hair. Sighing, I wiped it dry with a towel and grudgingly tugged the bowtie back on.

Getting into the brand new loafers dad had ordered specifically for this occasion, I willed my anger to stay in check and walked down the stairs into the lively living room.

Soft music filled every corner of the house as people stood in groups, talking, laughing and gossiping.

I tugged on my tie, feeling the irritation starting to creep in. A few feet ahead of me, Dad stood-Ashley’s arm linked with his-making introductions with an uncle I remembered from the Christmas party last year.

I rolled my eyes, looking away and heading for the back of the house. Hopefully no one would notice I wasn’t around, and maybe I’d even find some nice alcohol to nick.Exclusive content from NôvelDrama.Org.

As I got to the back of the house, I resisted the urge to smoke. It wouldn’t go down well if someone saw me and reported it to Dad. So I left the cigarette and lighter safely tucked in my pants and instead buried my hands deep in my pocket.

As I watched the middle-aged couple who stood a few feet away from me, I overheard one say, “Did you see her?”

My ears shot up and I moved back, deeper into the trees.

“Who didn’t?” His wife replied. “She’s so young!”

Her face wrinkled in disgust.

“My, my, Richard obviously isn’t in the right state of mind.”

The woman shook her head. “Isn’t she around the same age with the boy? Jared or something like that is his name.”

I resisted the temptation to scream “Jason” and concentrated on staying hidden.

“Lord have mercy on them all,” The main said sadly, shaking his head.

At this point I walked out, deliberately giving them a long, hard look so they’d know I’d been listening.

The woman yelped in surprise and her mouth hung wide open as she stared at me dumbfounded. Rolling my eyes, I stormed off and headed for my room to have a highly needed smoke.

Amelia Forbes

I curled up under the covers in my usual position, my head pounding and my eyes hurting. I’d been lying here for hours, just staring into space and trying not to think.

After the episode with Nana when the school had emailed her about my grades, she had been a little cold. I knew it was my fault and I desperately wanted to fix it. But. . . I didn’t know how, nor did I have the energy to.

Forcing myself up, I decided to at least make an effort. I dragged myself from my bedroom and down the stairs. Nana had already let me know she was making lasagna-my favorite-and I decided I was going to help.

Getting into the kitchen, I sighted her and signed as soon as she faced me, Hey can I help?

Her stare softened and she nodded lightly, gesturing to the table.

I tried to smile but my lips wouldn’t cooperate.

Please, Mel. Keep going. You can’t stop now.

My head spun as I plopped down in the nearest chair, trying to catch my breath.

I let out a yelp as I realized I’d sat on something, judging by the squishy sound I heard. Quickly I jumped up, only to see that I’d sat on a tray of lasagna sauce.

Nana stared at me-her eyes cold-and deep in them I could see just how disappointed she was.

I was still unfocused and absentminded and this just proved it. Swallowing back tears, I mumbled an apology and ran up to my room to clean up.

Shutting my bathroom door slowly, I stared at myself in the mirror and combed my fingers through my hair.

What is wrong with you, Mel? Can you be anything more than a walking disappointment?

Clutching the sink, I reached for a small towel and dipped it into water to clean myself.

As my flipped my skirt to the back and began to wipe it down, my hands froze as I realized it looked like a. . . period stain.

A period stain.

I haven’t seen my period in-I counted on my fingers, ignoring the tremor as my fingers shook-three weeks. . .

My eyes widened in horror as a terrible explanation came into view.

No. Please, God. No.

“It can’t be-its not. . . possible,” I whimpered, feeling the tears beginning to roll down my cheeks.

I heard someone let out a piercing scream and I clapped a hand over my mouth as I realized it was me.

No. I can’t be pregnant. I’m not.

The fatigue. The nausea. I’d been peeing a lot lately. . .

The tears in my eyes flew as I shook my head furiously. Slowly, I slumped to the bathroom floor-for the second time in one month, sobbing for the pain I didn’t deserve.