Hey! It's now on the oasis! And guess what I'm putting pictures in!
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April 1st 3:12 am
It's April. And I'm seven months pregnant. David's family has come from all corners of the earth to Baby/Engagement shower. I very much detest Baby Blue and Lime Green everything now, that's what the colors of the party are. I don't fit into any jeans now, so Grams and Mrs. Bruce are fitting me for some clothes, when Hannah walks in.
"Your too thin, Lilith." Grams declares. "Janie are you feeding this girl?"
"More than enough!" I say as Mrs. Bruce gets another plate of food for me.
"She won't eat meat!" Aunt Ruth calls from somewhere in the house.
"She needs Lamb." Uncle Richard calls from the kitchen. "I'll get her some!"
"She needs to lose weight; she's like a freaking balloon." Hannah says as she reads another brides magazine. Grams puts down the measuring tape.
"So when does her highness plan to have a baby?" Grams furiously asks. "When she does, she can tell us all the advice she wants, but until then keep your trap closed." Grams tells me in Latin, which somehow I've picked up or rather been forced to pick up.
"She's a rebound! A slut! I feel so sorry for you, David and Dylan." I laugh and Hannah gets upset.
"What is she saying?" Hannah puts down her magazine.
I reply in Latin, "I feel worse for any of her kids! David will never know if their his!" The room erupts in laughter.
"Lilith, what is she saying and what did you say?" Hannah demands. Grams changes the topics. "So Hannah, what are you wearing for a dress? What colors?"
Hannah looks pleased that the subject is sifted to her. "Well, Periwinkle and Purple are the colors..." The rooms gasp all on cue.
"What?!? You can't choose those!" Cousin Carly says.
"My grandson is marrying a fool!" Grams sits and puts her hand to her head.
"Any other colors, but those!" Aunt Martha cries.
"I will not give it my blessings!" Poppy yells as he leaves the room.
"What's wrong with them?" Hannah asks.
"I hate to tell you this but the Bruce family has a long history of war with another family with THOSE colors." I says exaggerating the truth a little too lightly. "Pick some other colors."
"Put those are my favorites! A bride shouldn't have to compromise!" Hannah whines like a 3 year old.
"Hannah, you can't change three hundred years of history for a wedding!" I scold.
Grams takes my hands and pleads "Please marry my grandson and save him from her!" Hannah storms out.
Soon my new dresses and pants are done and I have to go to school. I really don't feel like a high school student anymore, I certainly don't look like one. Everyone has gotten better about me being pregnant, maybe because another 15 girls are starting to show. I took the time to count. Hannah and David argue the whole way there. All they do now is argue. Mostly about me. When will I leave? When will they won't have to deal with me? When will I give them the baby? David says I'm always going to be part of their lives forever. And I will not be giving them the baby. Me and David agreed on joint custody a while ago, which will be easy because we live five feet from each other. Then that brings up another argument: When will they move away, with the baby?
By the time we get to school I'm nauseas and not because I'm pregnant. My bright pink, fuzzy, sweater blends in with the other clothes, it's like a mosh pit of neon in here. I pass by Hannah's locker which is being decorated Periwinkle and Purple, I smirk and keep walking. My belly attracts hands, especially when the baby is kicking or has the hic-ups. I don't think I can go to my locker without someone molesting my belly. Monica's waiting by my locker.
"Guess what?" She says a little too "Your grandparents' are coming and you have to sleep on the couch."
"Uh, Frances got arrested over the weekend? It was the highlight of my week."
"No silly! You're going to a Pro-Choice protest and you're going to talk about how you would be pregnant by your druggie-alcoholic-abusive older neighbor, if you didn't have to gain consent from your parents who are either too drunk to notice you or M.I.A!"
"What the heck are you talking about? David's not an abusive!" I find that is the only thing that isn't true. I probably would have had an abortion, if it were not required to have consent, no one know. But then again, I probably wouldn't be pregnant had I used my brain and find a loop-hole. Monica goes into a long lecture/rant about Pro-choice, and I realized that I wouldn't have been born if Mimi had had an abortion like everyone wanted. My head spins at all the stuff I could have done before I got pregnant. I could have been a therapist; now that just seems so far away. Maybe I'll be a secretary.
I see Leo walk by; he looks so thin, too thin! His hair is all over the place, not his normal all over the place hair, it looks like he's balding almost.
"Leo! I got guitar in the trunk...Oh my god are sleeping at all?" I say because I can see the veins in his face. "What drug are you on? Get off of it!"
"Lil, I wish it where so simple. Hey, can I ask a favor?"
"Sure, anything!"
"When I die, make sure I'm donated to science, that baby of yours is gonna cure.... And another one, don't blame David for anything. I couldn't stand to see you guys not be together." He chokes up.
"But that's in a real long time! We'll be old and I'll forget, and you'll be chasing the ladies around in your old people scooter!" I try to get him to laugh or even smile, just something but this mood. Leo looks at Monica.
"Monica, I always liked you." He says as he kisses her lips and walks away.
"What the hell? Is he suicidal?" I wonder out loud. Monica holds her lips and says,
"I'm never putting chap-stick on these lips again!"
I don't know it then, but I'll never see him alive again.
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