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…
copyright © 2016 Havan Fellows
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.
“Call me 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.
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.
To be cont’d…
Here are the blogs of my fellow orgiasts…see if they’ve got goodies for you. ;)