Storms In September

The Preamble

September.

Today, I realized that friends aren't forever. I also realized that friends can be flip-flop because they aren't always there when you need them. To be quite honest, I am a very understanding person and I get that your friends can't always be there for you because they have lives too; but, that is where I stumbled.

I juxtaposed understanding when friends really truly can't be there for you because they've got things going on and the simple fact that they just don't want to be there for you.

Looking back on things, I've realized that my 'friends' aren't what's up. They were dramatic, theatrical, woman-ish monsters that dragged and spoke negatively about everyone. The thing that haunts me is that I spoke about those people too. It seldom happened when I made fun of people as well but the fact that they made fun of those that didn't have and I stood by and laughed with them, hit home for me.

Ridicule was mutual for me in middle school and how I managed to totally forget that and chime in with my 'friends' in high school, I don't know.

I tried to lock my secret up and throw away the key for as long as I possibly could but the kind of people that I chose to mingle with knew people that knew people. You can't trust everyone because they'll eventually slip up and run their mouths.

Two months pregnant. How? Who? What? When? And where? Those are the questions that Raheem asked me frantically as he scratched his neatly cut head that day. I'll never forget it to be honest but I can't do anything but move on because you can't change a man.

I didn't tell anyone because I knew immediately that I'd be judged. It's funny how life, better known as karma, can come around and cling to you like a wet t-shirt. I used to joke around and howl at the pregnant girls that wobbled up and down the halls, anxious to cross the threshold of their classroom so that their instructor wouldn't lock them out for showing up late.

I whispered oddities and swear words like 'slut' and 'garden tool' and I resent that because I didn't know their situations. I didn't know what their living predicaments were like. I had no clue how they ended up pregnant. It could've been molestation but my 'friends' and I didn't care. We just needed someone to target and make fun of.

But guess who's pregnant now? The same people that I joked around with are now joking around too. The only difference is, I'm the pun. I'm the joke. I'm the punch line and I hate it. I hate it with every fibre and bone inside of me. It's horrible. It stings. It stings so very badly. It feels like a thousand bees are attacking you and they've stung you so many times, that you can't even feel the penetration anymore. You go numb and all you can feel at that moment is the salty tasting tears that fall from your eyes delicately.

My so-called friends are whispering into the ears of others about me. They're laughing and yodeling like they didn't turn up pregnant at least once and rob their boyfriends of money to receive abortions. Sure, my mother was extremely disappointed to hear the news but she'd never, not even in an intoxicated state, tell me to go and kill something that's always meant to live. I knew that much.

They pass me up in halls like they don't even know me. My baby's father, Raheem, is no better. He tucks his hands into his pockets, glares at me from under his long eyelashes and snuggles into his hoodie. He walks past me as if I don't exist. As if I'm just a particle in the air. As if I don't matter. Of course it hurts but not as bad as it does when you know you had your whole life ahead of you. It doesn't hurt as bad when you're watching your future crumble slowly like molasses.

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~ Asia.