Late again…well I’m
nothing if not consistent, right? lmao
Again, I will try to
play catch up and have Monday’s post on time.
***Now – the troubles with writing a book one chapter a week and
sharing it with you guys during the writing process—things change sometimes:
dates change, names change, little deets change. Yes, what I’m trying to tell
you is all of these have changed with this story already – and I’m only on the
4th chapter and the two main characters haven’t even been introduced
yet - *blinks* - I did mention - on my blog post explaining this book - that this
would be a difficult story to put to word, remember. Good thing is, I did go
back in the previous chapters and tried to fix all the changes I made so new
readers won’t see the switches. But if you catch on to any of them, please give
me a little leeway…we are going through this journey together…hand in hand.
<3
Prompt: That was where he went wrong…
Parallels
Part 4
copyright © 2016 Havan
Fellows
Chapter Four
January 4, 1980
“One more push…come on…you can do it,”
the doctor cajoled her.
Maggie jerked her head left then
right, sure she didn’t have any more strength in her for another one. The room
spun in an assortment of colors, whatever they shot into her back took away
most of the pain, but she wished Greg were around to give her something to take
away her thoughts.
Even through the pressure ripping her
in half, with this baby in her trying to break free, she couldn’t control her
random thoughts. She knew once the child was born her problems would escalate.
Her parents wanted to be the perfect grandparents—but only in show. They made
it perfectly clear she was to bring their grandchild around only when summoned,
and they would supply the clothes that both mother and child would wear in front
of their friends. But after the performance was over they would be sent back to
the ramshackle trailer park that Maggie called home ever since she said I do…
Not that she actually muttered the words, but her mother assured the preacher
that her tears were ones of joy, her silence a result of hormones and
happiness.
Those days would be the easy part of
her life…
Chris hadn’t let up on the heavy hand
just because her tummy rounded with his child inside her. No, if anything, the
daily reminder that he knocked up the wrong girl infuriated him. He kept his
punishments to all parts of her body except the belly region. Maggie believed
even though he hated that he wasn’t in the manor on the hill were he thought
he’d be, the neighborhood her parents stuck them in was still better than the
slums he came from. Plus, the fact he was now free from his father’s wrath…
Well, it was always better to be the one inflicting the pain instead of
receiving it, yes?
Maggie was getting very accustomed to
that word…pain. That she could handle, but being in her mind, lucid…
Damn she hated that.
Pleasure and pain didn’t matter in
her life anymore. Obliviousness was what she wanted.
Chris doled out plenty of pain. In
fact, after the wedding and her parents made good on their promise—threat—to
purchase them a dilapidated trailer off The Boulevard—a notorious street on the
wrong side of town—Chris’s punishments were more frequent and severe. He’d
drink all morning, sleep in the afternoon, then get up and go to his gas
station attendant job for the night shift, bitching the whole way about how the
world did him wrong.
Greg—on the other hand—thought she
kept coming back for the pleasure he physically gave her. That was where he
went wrong; she didn’t care about the sex. Sex meant nothing. No matter the
position, orgasms eluded her. Not that Greg put much effort toward her needs
during their dalliances, which suited her fine. All she cared about was the fix
spreading her legs would get her. Not happy with the small amounts he shared,
she started sneaking stuff out of her parents’ house whenever she went over. Maggie
knew her parents well. The items she stole from them—things ranging from
crystal knick knacks to jewelry her mother stowed away and forgot
about—convinced Greg to give her his portion of whatever they imbibed in at the
time, also. Double portions guaranteed that the numbness would engulf her
quickly.
For a blessed afternoon she could
forget the hell that her life had become. An escape that in truth, she
understood might damage the baby, but this child ruined her life…why shouldn’t
she repay the favor?
Soon though she’d run out of stuff
she could swipe from her parents. When that happened… Well, Greg hinted that he
had some friends who would pay to have a few minutes with her. Perhaps she
would…
But that was nothing she could think
about while her brain was functioning without the help of the drugs. Decisions
like that shouldn’t ever be made while sober
Unfortunately, she’d been stuck in the
blasted hospital for the past four days, not able to see Greg, to get a fix.
And even though the hospital was good with dampening her pain, it was her mind
she needed freedom from.
The rolling pressure surged through
her lower abdomen again and she screamed while pushing. Her vaginal muscles
stretched to their limits then immediately relaxed as she fell back against the
mattress.
The doctor stood, his arms curled
upwards as two nurses bent in front of him, one with her palm on Maggie’s
stomach, forcibly massaging into the now limp skin.
“Clear,” the nurse murmured, and the
doctor immediately hurried to the side of the room, a different nurse joining
him.
Those two spoke to each other, but
Maggie couldn’t comprehend what they were saying as they messed with something
in a clear box.
She blinked heavily, ignoring the
pokes and prods from the two nurses between her legs. What was happening?
“There’s no heartbeat,” the doctor
shouted.
One of the nurses attending her
rushed to the doctor’s side. “I worried about this when she came into the ER
completely doped up. The baby is almost eight weeks premature…he never stood a
chance.”
Did she lose the baby? Did she want
to lose the baby?
A soft, weak cry broke through the
tense silence.
“Knowing his future, perhaps it would
be more humane to kill him now,” Brother stood next to the doctor, staring down
at the pallid baby boy with the withered, tiny body.
Sister stepped up on the other side
of the doctor. “Now Brother, were would the fun be in that? Aren’t you curious
what is happening on the other side?”
“Dear Sister, curiosity is your
realm. Mine is to keep you happy.”
“Which you do splendidly,” she
confirmed, running her fingertips up and down the newborn’s head. He twitched,
turning toward her touch, the only signs of life he displayed. “Such a bleak
path you will take, little man. Try to steal the good times when you may.”
She blew him a kiss then reached for
Brother’s hand, which he gladly gave her.
***
February 29, 1980
“One more push… Come on Mags, you can
do it,” the doctor cajoled her.
Mags squeezed her eyes shut and
concentrated on getting her little boy out of her body and into the world. She
couldn’t believe it was happening. Finally. It seemed like a non-ending
pregnancy, not that she would change it for the world.
Who knew she would not only welcome this
new life, but actually be excited to meet him, get to know the tiny personality
that insisted on kicking her constantly from all angles whenever she made the
mistake of eating anything spicy. Evidently he didn’t have a taste for the hotter
foods. Didn’t seem fair considering she craved all things fiery throughout the
pregnancy. She had finally relented to the little booger inside her and ate
mellower foods, even though the cravings never stopped. She’d hoped conceding
to him would not only put an end to the amazingly strong kicks, but also help
the heartburn that assaulted her for the last half of the pregnancy. It didn’t,
so Rolaids became her drug of choice. She popped them like candy, thankful that
her doctor assured her they wouldn’t hurt the baby.
“You’re doing so well, Mags…the
doctor says just one more push,” Rachel leaned over and whispered into her ear.
“I’m here with you, you can do this.” She kissed Mags forehead.
Mags weakly turned her head to the
right and looked at Rachel. How was it this woman had become her savior?
Ever since that cup of coffee the
brunette literally pushed on her over three months ago, things started to seem
lighter, more manageable.
~~
Caring
with Courage fortuitously had a bedroom that recently opened up, and Rachel
immediately assembled all the paperwork needed to get Maggie into that newly
available bed.
Maggie
fought tooth and nail at first. She swore she wasn’t a battered woman, but a
knowing look from Rachel proved the lie fell flat. Even though the astute woman
didn’t see the hidden bruises, Maggie felt naked in front of Rachel…like mere
clothing couldn’t hide the damage Chris did physically and her parents
emotionally.
Terrified
of what Chris would do if he found out she came here, but not quite willing to
get up and walk out…Maggie tried a different tactic. She was still a minor,
only sixteen.
Rachel
waved the concern away with a flip of her hand. She stated one last thing
before standing and exiting the room, “You have a decision to make, Maggie…
Stay with him and die or take a chance here and live.”
Maggie
didn’t even ponder the statement, her body answered for her as it stood and
followed Rachel up two flights of stairs and down a long corridor. On the third
floor all the way to the back of the shelter a door stood open, and Maggie
continued to trail Rachel into the corner bedroom.
It was
tiny and sparsely furnished—a single dresser, rickety nightstand, a twin size
bed—with a narrow shuttered door to the left that probably opened to one of the
smallest closets known to man. No other doors in the room verified that there
was a communal bathroom. If the chipping paint and slivered furniture was
anything to judge by, the bathroom probably didn’t stack up to Maggie’s normal
standards either.
“What
do you think?” Rachel whispered next to her.
Maggie
took one last look around before turning to the pushy brunette with the soft,
caring smile. “It’s the most beautiful room I’ve ever seen,” she replied
honestly. Because even if her eyes told her brain that the end table was beaten
down and closet door dilapidated and about to fall off the hinges… All she saw
was safety. There would be no fear of sleeping next to her own personal enemy,
he had no power here.
Maggie
knew what hope felt like again.
“Rachel?”
“Yes,
Maggie?”
“Call
me Mags.”
~~
Good-bye Maggie…
Hello Mags.
Rachel immediately made Mags her
‘project’, not that she would ever rudely term it that way. But she did. She
spent hours with Mags, taking her to doctor visits and helping her find a safe
place to work.
Just to secure her peace of mind,
Mags cut her long flowing mane of chestnut hair and stopped wearing her contact
lenses. The pixie hairstyle and glasses dramatically changed her appearance,
giving her a sense of elusiveness from her past—helping her from always looking
over her shoulder in case someone actually cared enough to search for her.
They didn’t.
She made peace with that. Even said a
little thank you prayer to a god she didn’t quite believe in.
“Earth to Mags,” Rachel said,
grasping her bare shoulder where her hospital gown slipped down. “It would be
real good if you were here right now. Whatever you’re thinking about will have
to wait until this little guy joins us.”
Blinking, Mags looked around the
room—the hospital room. She must’ve spaced out thinking about her good luck.
The best thing she ever did was listen to the voices in her head when she left
Chris’s apartment back in November.
“Now…push now…” the doctor announced
loudly, penetrating any fog that tried to keep Mags in her thoughts.
Scrunching her eyes, leaning forward
with the help of Rachel holding her in a sitting position, Mags gritted loudly
through clenched teeth as she pushed with her abdominal muscles. Pressure and
pain circulated through her as she gripped the steel bars on the sides of her
bed and continued to push, throwing her head back and screaming until her
throat felt raw.
A baby’s wail overpowered her hoarse
cries and she immediately fell back against a mountain of pillows.
“My baby,” she sighed, trying to look
between her legs at what the doctor and nurses were doing to no avail.
But the baby bawled again and again,
and she relaxed, knowing that a baby with lungs that strong had to indeed be
healthy.
“You’ve got a loud one.” Rachel
chuckled, brushing the sweat soaked hair off of Mags forehead.
Mags closed her eyes, enjoying the
friendly touch. “He sounds beautiful.”
“That he does.” Sister bubbled,
stepping between Mags’s legs and caressing the infant’s cheek. He gurgled
before spitting out more shrieks that out-volumed his previous ones.
“I must admit, the difference between
the two is quite marvelous. Though the eyes”—Brother followed the doctor to the
side table with the scale and swaddling—“the eyes are the same. As dark as his
other self.”
Sister bounded over to the. “The eyes
are the window to the soul,” she sang. “Perhaps his soul is destined to be
dark. Our interference merely a pebble causing ripples in his soul but
ultimately doing no change.”
“And isn’t that what interests you? Wondering
if we can truly change things.” Brother smiled indulgingly at Sister.
“Perhaps.”
To be cont’d…
Here are the blogs of my
fellow orgiasts…see if they’ve got goodies for you. ;)
