Disastrous

Two

Hangovers were not supposed to last this long, that I was positively sure of. I really wasn't much of a drinker, or a frequent partier, but I had been to enough parties in high school to know that a hangover should not be lasting four weeks. My headache never seemed to disintegrate, the firm pounding always present behind my eyes throughout my days. I suffered through long shifts at the nursing home, dealing with a lot of rather unpleasant patients at those times. Donald was by far my favourite, and even though he suffered from severe dementia it was like he was still, somewhat normal.

After brushing my teeth for the third time in the last 3 hours to get the taste of vile vomit out of my mouth, I trudged out of my bathroom and walked slowly out to the living room. Arabella was on the couch, eating corn puffs with lots of milk and watching her Saturday morning cartoons. I must have looked deathly, by the scowling grimace she gave me before her face took over a look of concern.

"You don't look so good Shay,"

"Ehm, yeah.." I mumbled, walking into the kitchen. My stomach was churning again already and I braced a hand against the counter to steady myself. I was feeling lightheaded, like I could faint at any given second.

"You should drink some water" I jumped slightly at her sudden presence behind me, her hand resting on my back as I leant against the countertops for support.

"What's wrong with me" I whispered, taking a sip of the bottled water Arabella handed me.

"I don't know, but I don't like this. I don't like seeing you like this."

"I think I ought to go back to bed."

She helped hold up my nearly dead weight as I walked back down the hallway to my room. I left the lights off and the curtains were drawn shut, providing a pitch black environment in hopes of not disturbing my headache any further.

She left silently, keeping the door cracked slightly in case I needed her.

I knocked off pretty quickly, but my slumber was immediately disturbed by horrible dreams and more sickness. When I opened my eyes again I felt like I had only been asleep for minutes, blinking rapidly up at the ceiling. A layer of sweat coated my brow, the stickiness travelling down my neck and into my baggy t-shirt. I knew what was coming so I tossed the blankets off of my body, running to my adjoined bathroom. I managed to make it to the toilet just in time, the bile splashing against the white porcelain as my body heaved. I hurled my guts out, choking and coughing as my body still tried to get sick but my stomach had absolutely nothing left to give.

Arabella knocked twice before coming in, holding another glass of water and the home phone that was pressed to her ear. I wiped my mouth and sat on the cool floor with my knees tucked up into my chest. Before I could ask her who she called she hung up the phone, setting it beside the sink and handing me the water to which I declined.

"I called your brother, we need to take you to the hospital Shay."

I knew she was right, even though I didn't want to believe it or go for that matter. I had never been so sick in my 20 years of life, something was definitely wrong.

Lucas arrives to our apartment in no time, not even bothering to knock at the front door. He enters the bathroom and frowns, seeing me curled up against the banister on the floor.

"What's the matter Shithead-Shay?" Much to my un-enjoyment, Lucas had been calling me this for years. He had given me the nickname when we were kids, and it stuck. Arabella swatted him on the shoulder and I refrained from rolling my eyes just as another wave of nausea flooded over me.

"Jesus, she looks awful" He whispers as Arabella helps me to my feet. My brother takes over, guiding me towards the front door. I slip sandals onto my feet and pray that I don't get sick all over the building.

*

The gown they forced me to dress in is itchy and irritable, and I can't stop scratching at the sides of it. My legs and feet are cold, my stomach still tied in a knot.

The doctor came back into the small room then, closing the door behind him. His thick black frames fell down the bridge of his nose as he stared at paperwork attached to his clipboard, tapping his index finger against the board slowly. His silence made me even more nervous, and I tried to focus my attention on the pale pink walls for a distraction.

He finally manoeuvred his way over to the chair at the desk, rolling towards the bed I was laying in until he was right beside me. I finally looked him in the eyes then, and my fears only intensified. Something was wrong with me. He had found something in all those tests they took, I knew it. The look on his face told it's own story, words weren't needed.

"Miss Stuart, I have some news for you."

I gulped, my breathing picking up rapidly. This was it. He was going to tell me what was wrong with me. Was I dying? Cancer? A tumor? Did I even want to know?

"Wait, please" I begged just as he opened his mouth. I closed my eyes to fight down the tears and took a deep breath, preparing myself for the worst.

"Alright." I breathed, wiping my hand across my sweaty forehead. "Give it to me"

The doctor gives me a weak smile, glancing back down at the paperwork on the clipboard. I can hear my heart beating in my ears, my pulse racing rapidly.

"Miss Stuart, according to your blood work, you are pregnant. Congratulations."

As soon as the word pregnant leaves his mouth, mine goes dry. I can feel my eyes blinking, as if I'm trying to wake myself up from a dream. I was expecting a tumor, or cancer. I had somewhat mentally prepared myself that I was dying, and that I would have to accept that. But that wasn't the case. I was pregnant, and I was even more terrified than I was in the first place.

The doctor makes me sign a few papers, giving me a prescription sheet for pills to help with what I now knew was terrible morning sickness. He said that I was malnourished, and also gave me prenatal vitamins to take to get my body back on track. I couldn't speak, or hardly breathe, unable to process the fact that I was carrying a child inside of me.

I felt....numb.

It hit me then that I didn't even know my baby's father. He was the only possibility, the only person that could have gotten me pregnant. I had only been with him recently, my ex boyfriend too far back to have been a possibility.

I kept my composure, even though panic mode was completely settling in. The doctor left the room as I got changed, and I made him ensure that this wouldn't get out to anyone with patient confidentiality and all that. I didn't want to tell my brother or Arabella, not yet at least, I still needed time to process this myself and I only wanted me to know.

"Shay, jesus we've been worried" Arabella chimes in the moment I enter the waiting room. I give her a faint, fake smile, unable to give her a real one at this point.

"Jus' the flu" I lie, not looking either of them in the eye. My stomach was still twisting and turning, but as soon as I picked up my prescription at the front and popped one of the pills, it was almost instant relief. I hid the bottle from both of my two companions views, not wanting them to see that they were in fact for pregnant women.

Four weeks. I was pregnant for four whole weeks, and I being the idiot that I am didn't even let that idea cross my mind. I was drunk that night, too damn drunk and we must have not have used protection. I couldn't tell to be honest, I didn't remember hardly anything from that night besides how amazing the sex was and how gorgeous he was.

I shouldn't be thinking about that right now though, all I should be worried about is what the hell I'm going to do about this. I had some serious thinking and decision making to do, and I wasn't looking forward to it.

A/N:

it's gonna get more interesting I swear

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