Pretending to be Pregnant

One

"Esme, I'm sorry." My best friend Diana stood across from me, twiddling her thumbs in apprehension and anticipation.

"It's not true." I muttered, tears welling up in my eyes, threatening to overspill. Cautiously, I looked up into Diana's deep blue fascinating eyes and it dawned on me that she was telling the truth. My first reaction was to flee. To run away and attempt to forget the two life changing words, that had bubbled from her soft, rosy, lips.

"Just leave me alone." I shouted over my shoulder as I ran away from Diana. I knew that she would try and follow me. 

The fallen leaves from the autumn trees crunched under my feet as I padded along the pavement, my breathing shallow. It couldn't be true. Really it couldn't. Panting, I sat on the ground, hugging my knees to my chest in an attempt to isolate myself from the evil world around me. I knew that Diana would not be far behind, she would hurrying after me in an attempt console me. I quickly dabbed at my eyes with my jacket sleeve and jumped up, hurrying to reach home.

As I made the treacherous journey home I attempted to rectify my emotions. I didn't want either of my parents discovering the truth. I had to take this in first. I needed to come to terms with this myself before I told people. If, I was going to tell people. I padded over the temporarily soft, bouncy ground and took in the gradually cooling air. A shiver shook my body. It was nearly November and the cold air was beginning to set in, piercing my clothes and penetrating my body. I looked down, noting that I was still wearing my summer jacket, a pale pink summer dress with thin tights and ballet flats. Not the most substantial winter outfit. I walked along the pavement, taking in deep gulps of air as my house came into sight.

Taking one last icy breath of air, I placed my hand on the door handle and gradually made my way inside.

"I'm home!" I shouted, throwing my keys on a nearby side drawer.

"Hi, love!" My mother's voice hummed throughout the house from the kitchen. "Good day?"

"Mmmmm" I mumbled, unable to lie, but unable to tell her the truth.

"Good, good." She shouted, obviously unaffected by my incoherent answer. "Dinner will be ready soon." She told me. I jumped up the staircase, thankful that I hadn't had to face my parents yet. Closing my bedroom door behind me, I released a sigh of relief. I was safe. I walked across the tidy, pretty, spacious room, reaching the bathroom at the end and locking the door behind me. Willingly, I washed my face in the modern, white, porcelain sink and looked in the matching white mirror.

I stared at my reflection, a defined face staring back at me. A girl of around sixteen years of age, with icy blue eyes and sleek dark hair falling neatly down her back and almost falling to her waist. The girl was beautiful. The girl was me.

Sighing, I splashed another dosage of water of my face and watched as it submerged the tears trickling down my cheek bones.

Why me?

Why, oh why, had this happened to me?