Trying Not To Love You

Trying Not To Love You (Prologue)

Hey people! So yes, this is my third story on here.

I deleted my first one because I didn't have any motivation to write it anymore, and most of the people reading it already knew what was going to happen anyways...

I also deleted my second one... I didn't feel like that story was getting anywhere with only about forty one readers to be exact.

But, I feel that this one will be a success, and will appear on the front page of the romance section. Then again, I'm dreaming. So, I hope you people like it!

*~Prologue~*

            “I’ll pick you up once you’re finished,” My mom declares, parking the minivan in the closest parking space to the building. She lets out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through her dull blonde hair. Though, mine was lively, opposite of hers. “You have all the paperwork, right?”

                I wave the thick stack of papers that were formerly seated on my lap in front of her face, showing her that I indeed had each and every one of the forms. “Yeah, I got them all.”

                “Are you sure you want to do this, Avery? You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Mom offers, a concerned look displayed on her face. Worried wrinkles appear on her forehead and her eyes looked tired. “Avery?”

                From the passenger side, I angle my body to look into the backseat. My baby’s sleeping body lay still, her small chest rising up and down from her thick pink clothes. Her beanie was about to come off sometime soon, revealing her bald head. A few hairs were peeking from beneath the pink beanie. Quinn looked so peaceful while sleeping, her fists clenched as she sucked onto it. I knew she preferred her fist instead of a regular thumb! That’s why I loved my baby. She was a tough one.

                “Yeah, I’m sure mother. It’s not like I could buy any of her essentials.” I say sadly, running a hand through my own blonde hair.

                Pushing the passenger door open, I scramble out of my seat and head towards the back door. I slide it open, leaning over the seat to unbuckle Quinn from her car seat. I carry her miniature and fragile body carefully in my arms, balancing her in my arms as I shut the door. The paperwork balances on top of her, as if it was her own blanket.

                As we walk towards the adoption center, I heard my mom’s minivan pull out from behind me. The sliding doors part as we enter. The immediate smell of baby milk and the sound of baby wailing enter my senses. I continue down the narrow hallway, expecting the nurse I talked to on the phone to take my baby.

                Sauntering down the hallway, I pass a gigantic window filled with small plastic cribs that carried sleeping babies. I immediately feel sorry for the babies. They wouldn’t know their real parents, just the fake ones that would raise them. But, of course, I’m being the hypocritical one right now. I just can’t imagine being in the baby’s places. Right now, there’s no one to feed them, help them…

                … Love them …

                A tear escapes my eye for the fourth time in my life. I’m not that much of a crier, but giving up something you love, it’s worth your tears. The tear ends up landing on Quinn’s pink blanket that I had made for her the other day, making it a darkened spot that didn't blend with the shade of pink I had picked out for her. I remember spending every second knitting that for her, not wanting to do anything else but make a soft blanket for my baby.

                But I guess the adoption is best for her. I’m a mother who got pregnant at sixteen who can barely afford her baby’s essentials. At least Quinn will belong to a mother who could put her under a nice roof and feed her all the things she loves.

                A tap on my shoulder brings me out of my train of thoughts. “Avery Wilson?”

                I spin around, coming face to face with a woman’s voice I recognized. She had a loose blue shirt and black dress pants, along with some black flats. “Yes, that’s me.”

                “It’s time. Do you have the paperwork?”

                Nodding, I hand her the paperwork that was placed on top of Quinn’s blanket. As she scans through the papers to see if everything was signed and in place, I place multiple kisses on top of her little forehead. I might as well cherish our last moments together.

                “Okay, Ms. Williams. I’ll be taking Quinn into the nursery.”

                I reluctantly hand Quinn to the nurse. She settles into her arm, but immediately starts crying. Many people look over to find the source of the noise, but give me pitiful looks once they realized what is taking place right now. The nurse walks through the door that connects to the nursery. I couldn’t hear her crying anymore once she was in the room.

                Gazing through the big glass window, I notice that the nurse meets with a bunch of others. They place Quinn in the same glass crib as all the others. A little too harshly, they spin Quinn out of the pink blanket, tossing it into the trash. What the hell? That was Quinn’s blanket!

                They replace the blanket with a tedious gray one, wrapping her tightly around it, but her arms seem to escape. They didn’t care. The nurses fill an elastic plastic bottle with the usual baby milk, but mix the powder into the water instead of pure milk. The nurses try to feed it to Quinn who was still crying, actually screaming this time, attempting to force the bottle into her mouth.

                Instead, the milk spills out of the top, dropping onto her nose and mouth. Quinn stops crying, but starts coughing uncontrollably. They forcefully wipe the milk off of her nose and mouth, using a pacifier instead of feeding her milk. Quinn sucks on it, her chest still vibrating as she tries to strangle out a cough.

                Once I see that her chest was breathing in steady patterns, I take it as my cue to leave. Tears were now spilling down my face like there was no tomorrow. I hustle out of the adoption center, pulling my phone out of my pocket once I was outside. I text my mom to come pick me up. I guess it went by a lot quicker than I imagined.

                As I slip my phone out of my pocket, I stumble across a thin paper in my back pocket. Pulling it out and glancing at it, I couldn’t help but growl at it.

                Eric.

                I hated him for getting me pregnant at the age of sixteen, but I guess I should be thanking him for making the best mistake of my life. I didn’t intend on getting pregnant, but I still loved my baby with all my heart. I’m sure as hell that when he gets out of jail, I’m not going to let him lay a finger on her. Serves him right for doing illegal drugs behind my back.

                I noticed that familiar blue minivan in the distance as it comes to a halt in front of me. Flinging the passenger door open, I stuff the picture back in my pocket and hop into the seat. Once I shut the door, my mom pulls out of the adoption center parking lot, leaving Quinn behind to the nurses.

                Hopefully she’ll be raised by a loving mother…

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This chapter has been edited! :) Hope you like!

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Thanks for reading! <3