Losing Grace [UPDATED] (Chapter two up)
Alisa_Crawford:
Losing Grace
“Okay…looks good,” I mumbled to myself, but I still unconsciously messed my hair, flipping and unclipping, patting down nonexistent wrinkles in my hand-me-down dress. How old was it again..? Fifteen, twenty years old, maybe. It didn’t matter, of course, I thought to myself with a smile. It was his favorite color.
Why was I so obsessed that day? Prom..? No, that was only last week. Last week? February, right… February seventh. Our two month anniversary. How trivial, I think now.
“Frannie! Charlie’s here, doll,” Dad called from the living room. I smiled, hearing Charlie making my mom laugh again. She loved it when he came over. He always made her laugh, made her smile. That was one reason, I knew, that I liked him. He was that kind of person. The kind that, by just being in the room, he could make you feel better, or happier, or just make you smile by looking at you.
I made my “grand” appearance with barely a thought before jumping at him, and he caught me with a slight bewilderment. He laughed nervously, nearly falling when I jumped into his arms, but he steadied himself and just said, “Hey, Frannie.”
Was it then? No…it wasn’t then, I don’t think. It was what he said right after that, while Mom and Dad were looking away, not listening, and my ear was right at his mouth.
“You look so beautiful.”
That was it, I thought with a quiet sob, putting my hand to my mouth and wiping away another line of tears that had reached my mouth. Charlie looked at me with confusion, barely looking at his mom. She stood behind me, already very aware of the news. It was the only time she’d ever looked very scary to me, staring at her son was a very apparent disdain that I’d never thought I’d see on her face.
“Wanna hear something funny, Charlie?” I whimpered, gasping in the middle of my sentence. He looked at me with another, bolder look of confusion. I hated seeing him like that, his thin brown eyes full of concern.
“Frannie, just tell me what’s wrong,” he said, moving closer, but I stopped him. It wasn’t that I didn’t want him near me for my own sake. I knew that, after I said what I needed to say, he wouldn’t have wanted to be near me.
Sighing, I wished his mother would have stayed there. Instead, she left us, going to the couch with a low moan, not looking at either of us again. I looked away from him, feeling another cold wet line of tears flow down my cheeks. “I’m pregnant.”
rachel631:
Can't believe nobody's commented on this! I think it's great, anyway. Is it your first story?
Alisa_Crawford:
Quote from: rachel631;1378646
Can't believe nobody's commented on this! I think it's great, anyway. Is it your first story?
Well, yes and no. I had one before, but...well, it just needs some revision if I ever start it again. This is actually for the backstory of another character of mine, this being the story of said character's parents. That character's story is maybe what I'll work on after/during this one.
Thanks for the comment. :angel:
Misskitz:
This is such a nice story! Can't wait to read the next chapter!
Alisa_Crawford:
I tried to call my dad. He didn't answer, and he didn't call back or answer the next fifteen calls from that day.
Miss McCarthy decided to let (well, make) me stay. After the initial horror of making my anouncement was over, the nausea turned out to only be a side effect of the pregnancy. Charlie, as I'd thought, didn't know what to say besides, "What...do we do?" I'd told him I'd been looking through ads of people, looking to adopt babies. To that, he'd merely nodded and turned.
A few weeks after I began living with them, Charlie and I decided to keep it as much under wraps as we could, out of sight, out of mind. Almost no one would suspect Charlie as the father, as much as I hated my repuation among the others in my grade. Just keep any sort of bump under cover until it became too much, then...well, Miss McCarthy said we'd cross that bridge when we came to it. But Charlie and I had only one problem...
The baby was growing.
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