Pregnant For My Bully

Amelia Forbes

My hands shook as I struggled with the lock.

Nana wasn’t home yet so I had to let myself in with my key.

Tears brimmed in my eyes, blurring my vision.

Trying to wipe them away only made me cry even harder.

Honestly speaking, I felt stupid for crying.

How could I be so dumb? Why did for one second believe that today was going so well. That nothing would wreck the tiny confidence and happiness I had felt after talking with Ben.

Jason was right. There really was something wrong with me.Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

Finally managing to get the door open, I fled up the stairs and into my room.

As I plopped down, the small, rickety bed groaned in disapproval. I gave a bitter laugh, “Of course, everything in my life is against me.” I said aloud, covering my head with a pillow.

Realizing now that I was completely exhausted, I felt my eyes begin to droop.

Just a few minutes of rest, I decided.

A few minutes, I reminded myself, already feeling my eyes droop a second time as I drifted off to sleep.

A few hours later, I was awakened my the sound of Nana working in the kitchen.

I got up and stared at myself in the mirror, trying to put on a smile as best as I could. The last thing I wanted now was to get Nana worried over nothing.

But as much as I tried, my lips refused to cooperate. Refused to curl into a smile. Giving up, I trudged slowly down the stairs, stopping as I got to the kitchen.

I watched Nana for some time before I walked in-the beautiful smile on her face as she worked, checking on the pie in the oven, her shoulder length white hair wrapped in a low bun-trying to mentally prepare myself before seeing her.

As if she could sense my presence, she turned, her face breaking into a smile as she saw me.

Smiling back as best as I could, I signed, When did you get back?

She paused to throw a cup of diced carrots into the simmering pot. Looking back up, she communicated, Maybe an hour ago. I was going to wake you but you looked really tired.

I tried to keep a straight face while signing a reply. Yeah just school, I shrugged.

Okay then, you can go shower then come down for dinner, she signed, offering me another smile.

As I walked up the stairs back to my room, I couldn’t help but wonder if she really did like having me around, or if she just felt obligated to do so.

Amelia Forbes

An hour later after I had showered and come down for dinner, I twisted my fork in Nana’s special spaghetti delicacy, although I really didn’t feel like eating today.

Nana bit into a meatball, watching me carefully.

When it looked like she couldn’t take it anymore, she dropped her fork loudly on her plate, getting my attention.

What’s the problem, she signed.

The worry on her face should have convinced me, but Jason’s words still rang loud and clear in my head.

Was she just patronising me? I wondered.

As the thought came in, I quickly waved it off, mentally scolding myself for thinking like that.

But still. . .

I decided to play dumb-ha, like I needed to act for that-so I asked, Yes, why?

Her eyebrows bunched together in confusion as she signed, You’re acting strange. Did something happen?

Yes something happened, I thought. Something always happens doesn’t it?

Instead, I signed, No, I’m fine.

It was clear to see that she didn’t believe me. But in order not to push it, she busied herself with trying to finish her plate of spaghetti, looking up to glance at me every few minutes.

Slowly, I forced myself to eat my spaghetti, pushing the meatballs aside as I wasn’t in the mood to chew meat.

Every swallow felt like punishment. But this was important to wave Nana’s suspicion away.

As I scraped the last bits of spaghetti sauce off my plate, Nana motioned me to follow her to the kitchen.

I obliged, clearing the table and carrying the plates with me.

Help me with the dishes, baby, She communicated, motioning to the sink.

I nodded, rolling up my sleeves and adding a few drops of washing liquid into the clear water.

We worked in silence for a while, Nana rinsing and drying as I washed.

Suddenly filled with a burst of something I didn’t understand, I waved to get her attention, and signed, Do you really care about me?

For some reason I was starting to feel annoyed and defensive.

Ignoring the look on her face as the plate she was drying fell back into the sink, I signed, You just feel sorry for me, right? Well don’t. I’m not your charity case.

I could feel fresh tears beginning to form in my eyes.

Furiously, I wiped them away with my right elbow, focusing instead on scraping away the last bits of sauce in the pot I was currently washing.

After a while, I felt Nana place a cold hand on mine, forcing me to look at her.

I did. Only to see her eyes shining with tears too.

Why was she crying?

Shit. What have I done?

I cursed myself. Why was I always saying the wrong things. Doing the wrong things.

As I turned to apologize, she started to sign, Darling, I love having you around. The best part of my day is coming back home to meet you.

A single tear dropped from my eye and into the sink.

Nana continued, I know you’ve been having a hard time ever since your parents died. But I want you to know that it’s okay to feel lost and afraid and unloved. But just remember that I’ll always be here, taking care of you, no matter how many times you try to push me away, because I love you and I always will. You are not a charity case. You’re my baby girl, and the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

Unable to hold the tears back, I leaned toward the sink for support, my body racking with sobs.

She did love me.

Nana cared about me.

It wasn’t an act.

Jason was wrong this time.

So wrong.

As Nana engulfed me in a hug, parting my back at intervals, while I let out all the pain in my tears, I knew in that moment that no matter who despised me, deserted me, gave up on me, Nana never would.

And that was the most calming feeling in the world right now.