Chapter 9: Repercussions

Andre laid on the floor, gasping for air while I dressed myself. He sat up now, looking over at me, the tears flowing, no chance at stopping. My mouth hung open, the pain just flowing out of me. "Elizabeth," he rasped, coughing. I looked at him, not able to say anything. The pain was so overwhelming, I couldn't speak. I grabbed what little I brought with me and started to walk away. "Wait," he said again, pulling himself to his feet, "please wait. I'm here for you." He pleaded. I couldn't even register what he said, instead I just kept putting one foot in front of the other.

I started to run. I needed to be away from everyone. Everything. The perfect world I just ripped to pieces. Leon wouldn't let me go otherwise. I had to do it. For him. The pain flooded over me again and again. I made my way hastily through the club downstairs, making sure to go out the back, where I wouldn't possibly see Leon. I needed distance. I had to break this connection between us. I couldn't stand to feel his pain anymore! Andre pursued me but I was far too fast for him to keep up with.

Instead, I jumped in my car, starting it before I got there. I put it in1st and pulled out as quickly as I could. The tears blurred my vision, I relied on my instincts to get out of there quickly. Before I knew it, I was going 100 down the interstate. Trying to push these feelings out… I bawled… I screamed… I couldn't breathe. I let go of the wheel, not being able to function… not caring what happened, I just needed to let it out. Slamming on the breaks. I jumped out of the car, letting the pain—the rage-- flow out of me. Cars started flying all around me, one almost hitting me, the anger rising more, I pushed it, flipping it into the median. Then another. And before I knew it, things started to explode. Twisted metal and glass everywhere. Blood running in the streets. I started to hyperventilate the fire raging all around me.

I killed 17 people that night. Not because of an accident, which is what the police ruled it, but because I needed to kill to feel better. To dull the guilt, the pain I felt. I got back in my car, driving off again, pushing the carnage out of the way as I drove. Nothing could touch me, I was invincible. These powers flowing through me made things seem unreal. Like a dream.

I blacked out somewhere in Arizona. Between the drugs, the alcohol, the magic… I was out for a day or two. I woke up and it was deathly hot in the car. I pushed my way out of the door, landing on the burning hot sand. I felt… empty. Alone and empty. He was finally out of me and I hated it. I started to cry again, the pain welling up inside again, I laid in the burning hot sun bawling like a scolded child.

The sun set quickly, setting into a cold desert night. I took a moment to get my bearings, and headed back to my little room in Henderson. I gathered what I had, tossing it in the back of the old beast, set out, moving north. I bounced along, taking refuge in small motels, hiding, grieving, not sure what to do. I just existed. I needed to make sure I never had to see him again.

Before I knew it, it had been over a month.

I feel like I had been on the run forever. I knew he had no clue how to find me, but I knew that I had made sure he wouldn't try. I pulled up to a gas station now, grabbing a few items to stock up for another long stretch of driving. I grabbed more food stocks, and some deodorant and soap. I was walking along and saw the feminine products, setting off a memory. An afterthought of the past months.

Before I had left my old life, I had decided to be sterilized medically. I had to wait 30 days after removing my IUD to do the procedure. I had a period almost immediately, but then just a few days later, I ended up on the road, running for my life.

I hadn't had one since.

This terrible sinking feeling clutched me instantly. I took a few steps, grabbing one of every kind of pregnancy test possible, and ran them to the counter. The clerk looked at me like I was crazy, ringing up the pile of junk, "Got a hunch I guess?" He scoffed.

I didn't say anything, just grabbed the bags, running out the door. I tossed my belongings in the car, grabbing the arm full of boxes, making a beeline for the bathroom. I opened the furthest stall, slamming the door behind me.

Quickly I ripped through the boxes, opening all of the tests. Some said 3 minutes, some said 5. Each of which was more advanced, from being 99% effective to being able to tell me how far along it would be. I took all of them, lining up the tests as I took them on the top of the toilet paper holder. I flushed, squatting now, just in front of the holder, setting the timer of my phone.

3 minutes, then 5.

I stood there, all of the questions flowing through my brain.

When was the last time I was with my Ex before I left?

What if he was the father? Did I want to be a mom? Was I ready to do this all alone?

No, I would have an abortion, I concluded.

What about Andre?.. My heart sank. No, I wouldn't do it.

What about Leon? What if he was the father?... I felt my conviction waiver, as I thought about the possibility of killing our child…

The timer buzzed in my hand. I grabbed the first stick, looking down nervously. A large pink + appeared on the screen.

I grabbed the next test, which read, "Pregnant" on a digital screen.

The third said the same.

The buzzer went off again, this time I swiped all 3 of the remaining tests, all of them confirming what the others said, but one said something that made my heart drop, "6-8 weeks".

I snapped open my calendar, counting the weeks. The night Leon and I last made love was roughly 8 weeks ago. I counted further back, trying to recall when I was last with my ex, remembering It was shortly after my business trip to Boston. 10 weeks ago. What about Andre… It was just a few weeks after I left Leon… 4 weeks? 5? I grabbed the packaging, anxiously scouring the pamphlet, hoping to see some 99.99% effectiveness claim. Then I read, "Can accurately predict hormone levels of development with 1 week error margin."

Part of me was relived, the other part terrified. No random mortal father, but no real answers. Either man could be this baby's father.

The next morning, I walked into a clinic, determined to know for sure. After an awkward scan, they told me the baby was a bit over 8 weeks. They gave me options, most of which were pro adoption, but they also referred me to an abortion clinic, almost 200 miles away. I grabbed my phone again, counting days- it was 22 days between when I was last with Leon and when I was with Andre. It felt unreal to even have to think about it. 8 weeks would make it Leon's baby. I felt just a tiny pang of relief. I went back to my car, sitting for a while silently, then I broke down crying. I knew I couldn't do that to him, and he deserved so much more. He wasn't buried inside of me anymore, but it didn't change my feelings for him.

I put the car in drive, pulling back the way I came. A few weeks gone and all of the trouble I had, and now I was giving up and heading back. It was cruel what I did to him, and who knows if he would forgive me. But I knew one thing. Leon was the best father a woman could ever ask for her child.