Meant to Be

  Chapter One
It's dark and cold as I step out into the frigid, unfriendly, December night. Wind tears at my jacket, trying to get inside, trying to wrap it's icy arms around me, freeze the life out of my body. But I'm hardly aware of the weather, as the wind whips and slices my face like icy knives. I don't mind the physical cold surrounding me, in fact, it's almost welcome, I wish it could take my mind off of the ache tearing my heart into pieces.
    So many questions crowd into my mind it feels like I could explode from the emotions I can't name. I beg the tears to come, as if that will take some of the pain but they refuse, my eyes are dry, my heart continues to ache. Why? I scream at the wind, why me? Why the pain? How is it possible to hurt this bad? Each time I hurt a little more, am a little more surprised at the depth of the intense aching pain. Is there such a thing as relief? Each level makes me look back at the level before, wondering if I actually was hurting then because if I was, it was nothing like now.
    I wish I could lay down in one of the snow drifts and never get up. What if I did, just laid down, let myself drift into sleep, a dreamless sleep, a sleep that would last for eternity?
    I’ve walked half a mile at least, I’m nearing the end of the drive we share with a dozen other people. I’m tired of walking, tired of life. I lie down in a snow bank. And close my eyes against the immense dark evilness and hate of the world around me. It doesn't happen how I think it will, a fading into darkness, losing all my pain and slipping away to a world of nothingness.
 I feel the chilling wetness of snow seeping through my
clothes, my fingers begin to ache with cold and my toes,
I'm not wearing gloves or boots, just street shoes and a thin coat. My jeans are wet and cling to my legs that are starting to feel like icicles... is this really the best way to go?
 I think about the hurts that have been building and building all around me, tearing at my heart, ripping me to pieces; Danny's death two weeks ago, he was in the infantry posted in Afghanistan and had been shot in combat. Danny was 21, despite being four years older than me, we were the only children and very close.      
 Now it was just mom and me, we had already lost dad to cancer when I was 10. Loneliness fills me and my body shakes uncontrollably. Is it the tears that are now falling, sobs racking my freezing body? Or is it the cold? My feet and hands are starting to numb.
  My mind continues to mull over the things that feel like they're ruining my life. Kelly. Fresh sobs rack my body, now that they're finally coming, they won't stop. Kelly and I have been best friends since the 1st grade. Sharing secrets, sleep overs, discussing guys and our newest crushes, shopping, we've done all the things best friends do, for the last ten years! Has it really been ten years? It seems in a way like forever and yet it seems like yesterday we were shy  little 1st graders, both new to a big scary school with a big unfamiliar class of kids who all knew each other. And we just clicked from that first day, inseparable from that day on. You almost never saw one of us without the other.
  I half smile, my frozen lips feel thick and numb, my face is cold, I clumsily reach up to feel my face, it feels like it's being pricked with a million needles, my hand is numb and I can hardly feel my face, it doesn't feel like my hand even, it feels like someone else is touching my face with cold lifeless fingers.
  “Why?” I whisper into the chilling black night. “Why'd you do this to me Kelly? I thought we would be best friends forever!” It had been almost a month now, living like this, questioning every last word that she said, wondering if it was all lies, since that day she'd betrayed me. I'd told her my biggest secret, something I hadn't told anyone, not even Danny, and within a week, the whole school knew. I'd felt her pulling away this school year, little by little, leaning towards the 'in group', Sophie was the leader and hated me so I wasn't welcome, but Phil one of the 'in guys' thought Kelly was pretty hot so they'd let her in and she'd been hanging less and less with me, and now this, total rejection and pain, but now she was kissing up to me again, like she  might get popularity from being friends with a girl who's brother had died as a soldier, like she wanted to be part of my life again. And part of me ached to let her back in, to let her be my friend, to trust her again, but the biggest part of my heart pushed her away, knowing I couldn't trust her, refusing to trust again, even after ten years. How could something like this shatter our friendship? I kept trying to convince myself that maybe it was for the best, but nothing felt like it was for the best. Everything was dark and scary and painful.
  October. I'll never be able to think of this month in the same way. The tears have stopped and I'm not shivering as much, though my whole body still hurts and I can't think clearly. October? What happened in    
 October again? Oh yeah. My birthday... guilt floods back over me. I'm not only harming my own life, taking my own life. I have to get up, gotta keep fighting... not for myself... I try to sit up, I roll over slowly and stand unsteadily. My legs are stiff and my feet feel like cement blocks. I haven't walked too far, maybe I can make it home.
  I start to wonder why I even considered suicide as an option to start with. I can't feel my body parts, they all feel separate like they don't belong to me, like someone else just glued them onto me and they were the wrong size for my body. I stumble a few steps and then fall to my knees, hot, tingling pain shoots up my arms and the tears start to flow again, I feel so helpless, maybe I could just rest for a moment here, but my stubborn streak kicks in and I drag myself a few more steps, before collapsing again. I can't give up! I've got to make it back to the house! I try to convince myself. But I'm too tired.
  I never thought I would stoop this low, I've always been a fighter, never though I would ever just give in... I can't go on! I lie down again, unable to move, I want to move, I want to get up I want to make it back, but I can't, I can't move a muscle.
  “Oh God, I know, I haven't talked to you in a while, but please! Don't let me be responsible for taking this -” I'm spinning, sinking, no longer feel so cold, warmth rocks me in it's arms, I'm falling through blackness and the ache where my heart once was doesn't exist. I feel empty, emotionless... My mind is completely numb, darkness wraps around me and I swirl almost dizzily into nothingness...
  I have no idea how much time passes while I'm in this state of nothingness, but eventually I awake to a white room, it's almost dark. Distantly I hear hushed voices and footsteps, the clicking, humming and beeping of machines. My body throbs and aches, the pain makes me wonder momentarily if I've died and somehow ended up in hell, but hell is supposed to be fire and this is just a world of white closing in around me, pressing in on me, am I dreaming?
  A face appears over me, it's familiar... mom? She's saying something but I can only see her lips moving, her voice is distant and I can't concentrate on her words. What's happening? I realize I'm closing my eyes. I try to reopen them but I can't. They feel heavy and I hurt, something bumps me and a shivering pain shoots through me, the kind of pain that doesn't just hurt, it aches in an indescribably excruciating way that leaves you paralyzed and wanting to scream.
  Where am I? What's going on? My whole being is throbbing and aching and my mind feels numbed, like it's been shot with Novocaine. I try to remember what happened, how I got here. A ghost of a memory hovers around the edges of my thoughts but when I try to make sense of it, but it eludes me. Finally I give up. Trying not to concentrate on the pain in every inch of me, lying totally still because even the slightest jarring is excruciating! I drift back into nothingness, but not the light painful nothingness I experienced before, this time, even nothingness is laced with haunting pain!
  I have lost all track of time anymore, I don't know how long I've been here. My days are spent drifting in and out of sleep and trying the handle the intense knife like pain haunting every waking hour and every dream. It seems to be consuming me, I can't think of anything else! People come and go, the nurses and my mom, but I'm hardly aware of them. I can't keep track of them, everything is a blur.
  Questions begin to fill my mind and emotions so strong, almost worse than the intense pain. What happened? I thought I'd freeze to death. My mind begins to thaw and I remember the horrible chilling darkness enveloping me, the way I felt so hopelessly lost, realizing I couldn't give up then giving up anyways. Guilt stabs me and I reach to touch my stomach, ignoring the pain shooting through me. It's less than before but still very present in every moment. Who found me and brought me into the hospital? That must be where I am, nurses and the strong odor of hospital, and the eternal dim lit white walls, it's so horribly dull but I don't have time or energy to think about it. Why did they save me? I find myself torn between gratefulness and hate for whoever rescued me from death to revive me to this horrible torture.   
 Why didn't God just let me die? It would've been easier! How long ago was that night? It seems just moments ago and yet, it feel like an eternity of pain has gone by! It's funny how conflicting time can feel.
    “Jess! Jessica?” I pry my eyes open, who's talking to me? I feel hazy at first but force myself to focus. It's mom. Is it... is she... crying? Pain shoots through me, not physical pain, the pain you feel with your heart, that deep ache you experience when you see someone you love hurting, that stab of guilt for being so selfish. Almost taking two lives and leaving mom alone!
    How could I hurt her like this? I got so caught up in my own grief and hurts that I totally tuned out mom's grief. I just about skipped out on her, the very same thing that I'd been so hurt by my best friend... ex-best friend, doing to me. Except, she hadn't attempted suicide she's still living... which hurts almost worse!
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Mom.” I whisper. “What happened?” I know what happened, but I want to know how I got here, how I was saved, what she knows. Sudden fear grips me, did they somehow find out my secret? I look into my mom's eyes, trying to search them for some clue, some hint that she knows. Her eyes are glassy from tears, I can almost see my reflection, her face is wet, and her eyelids red and puffy. She looks a mess!
   My mom, so composed, always perfectly groomed, never a hair out of place, never going out without her makeup being perfect, like this? Even when Dad died and Danny, mom was always composed, always the strong one  to lean on. I rarely see mom cry and now thinking that I’m the cause of those tears makes my heart ache. Why was I so foolish? Why don’t I think before I do things? Why am I so selfish? Why can’t I be more like mom? Tears come involuntarily.
   “I thought you were in your room doing homework, but around 9:00, I got a call that you were in the hospital. Jimmy came with his daughter to plow our drive and found you and brought you into the hospital. He said he didn’t know if he should bring you home or to the hospital at first but he had dealt with hypothermia once or twice while ice fishing with buddies and knew that since it would be shorter to just go to the hospital and you were pretty far gone he better bring you in and notify me later. If he would’ve brought you home, you might not have survived.” Mom’s voice is broken,
   “How long have I been here?”
   “Three days. We almost lost you, but thanks to God and all the prayers from the church, you’re  okay.”
   “The baby?” I don’t know if mom knows about it yet, but I have to know if my baby is okay!
   “The baby’s okay.” mom says softly. A thrill goes through me, relief floods me. If I would have lost the baby, I would’ve been forever guilty of taking a life. I see that mom’s crying again and I reach up and wipe a tear from her face.
   “I’m sorry mom!” I whisper softly. “I’m so sorry! I don’t know what I was thinking. Actually I do, I was thinking it would be an easy escape but by the time I realized I couldn’t give up yet, it was too late! Mom!” I break off choked by sobs.
   “It’s okay honey, don’t think about it, just think about recovering. The sooner you recover the sooner we can go home. Maybe we can go home for Christmas.” She smiles through her tears and I think she might be angel, only an angel could forgive me for what I did to her, risking her more pain and my baby’s life.
   Is she angry with me about the baby, I wonder, how is she feeling? I wish she’d tell me what she’s thinking! Getting yelled at would be better than this silent forgiveness! Don’t say it’s okay! It’s not okay! I scream inside and yet I love my mom for how she so willingly offers grace to me. She’s so Christlike! Maybe what she’s got is real after all, maybe what I’ve been fighting all along is what I really need.  I push the thoughts from my mind, if I ignore them, they’ll go away. I’m not ready to accept this.
   “How soon can I go home?” I ask. Mom shrugs,
   “I don’t know yet honey, hopefully soon.” she smiles softly at me. I reach for her hand and squeeze it slightly, pain floods up my arm momentarily but then it’s gone and I’m okay.
   “God,” my heart prays, “Thank you for saving me and giving me a second chance!”  Something touches my heart, and a silent voice whispers, ‘I’ve got a plan for your life, you were meant to be, will you give me the pieces?’ my heart longs to respond, longs to give in but something is still holding me back, I’m not ready. Please God! Hold on a little longer, I’m not ready yet, please don’t give up on me!  

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Where are the flowers from?” I ask noticing them for the first time in the dim room. Bouquets of brightly colored flowers and a pile of notes. Mom smiles,
   “The church people.”
   “Really? Can I have the notes?” she hands them to me and I open the top one, Rita Mckinely,
   
   Dear Jessica,
       I was so sorry to hear about the accident but I thank God that he spared your life, you would’ve been terribly missed! I’m praying for a speedy recovery and safety for you and your little one!
   I miss you at bible study before classes, and I’m really sorry about everything that’s happened at school. You don’t deserve it. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive and go on. Hugs to you!
I love you and God does too! I’m here if you ever need to talk!
Love,
Rita M.
   Tears fill my eyes, Rita! Rita was one of the less popular girls, even in the bible study. She was quiet and as I thought back, I realized she had never judged me once and had gone out of her way to show me love, though I was too caught up in my anger and bitterness to notice her love. I had been focusing on the wrong things.
   I open the rest of the cards, they’re all encouraging notes of love, ‘We’re praying, we love you, thanking God that you’re still with us, recover soon!’ type of notes, but I knew they weren’t just writing these things, they really meant them! They actually cared!
   “Mom, you said the church was praying for me?” I say quietly.
   “Yes.” mom answers, unaware of the struggle going on inside and the contents of the notes. I’ve pretty much given up on God, and I quit going to church a couple months ago, soon after my secret got out to the whole school. I’ve mostly rejected the church, knowing that they cared enough to pray for me touches me.
   “Wow!” I whisper. People practicing what they preach... unconditional love... These people are real!
   My mind goes to the rejection that I have experienced over and over, from friends who were Christian, the group at school, I used to go to their bible study every week, but then when Kelly, who had been a strong Christian and the biggest influence on me, the one that had first pointed me towards Christ, had slipped up and eventually betrayed me,   I’d used it as my excuse to slip too and the way that the Christian students looked down their noses at me as I walked by in the halls after they found my secret drove me further from God.
   Finding not forgiveness, but rejection in my situation, I pulled away from God and sank lower and lower into this dark misery. Anger, fear, bitterness all building up until I felt I could explode, walking the halls of school, I felt alone and angry, at God and the hypocrites who called themselves Christians, who were too perfect to slip up and who judged me with only half the story, as if they were above falling.
   But these were true Christians, truly living out God’s love, caring about my life.
   I realized as I lay in silence and mom sat next to me, holding my hand, that I had been focusing on my pain, building walls to keep the pain out and I had walled myself in so that I couldn’t be touched by those that still were trying to love me.
   “Thanks mom!” I whispered through my tears,
   “For what?” mom looked surprised.
   “For sitting with me, I’m sure you’ve got better things to do!”
   “I don’t have anything to do that can’t wait until my
precious daughter is okay. I wasn’t going to leave you alone!” mom says, gently stroking my hair.
    I'm touched, I suddenly feel a new appreciation for all my mom’s done for me and Danny over the years and my heart warms, if I could I’d give her a great big hug and tell her what she means to me I would, but my mouth doesn’t move to say the words and I can’t hug her, I just lie perfectly still and close my eyes. Silently asking God to bless her and  thanking Him for my mother’s love, a love so deep, only the love of God is greater!
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                                  Chapter Two


    The day before Christmas Eve, after being in the hospital for almost a week, I get to go home. My mom and I celebrate by baking Christmas treats and going tree shopping, we planned to a week ago, but... my accident stopped us.
    We finally find a tree we both like. It's small, perfect for our living room, we bring it home and get out the traditional ornaments, laughing over the memories each one holds. I pick up a misshaped, golden star with 'Joy to the World' inscribed in wobbly, childish, script around the top half. Danny made it in 2nd grade.
     "Merry Christmas Danny!" I whisper caressing the star in my hand tenderly before hanging it on the tree, the house  feels empty somehow, knowing that Danny won't be home for Christmas.
    Mom smiles sadly, pulling Danny's favorite ornament from the box, a miniature baby Jesus in a manger. Tears flood her eyes. I wrap my arms around her, and for a while, we hold each other, our tears washing over our broken hearts, healing glue, piecing them back together a bit. In this moment, I feel somehow grown up, no longer mommy's little girl, but a friend, a woman feeling heart to heart, sharing grief and tears, it's like a few minutes of mingled tears had drawn us together, closer than before.
     Finally mom wipes her eyes with a Kleenex from a lamp stand behind us, and blows her nose.
    "It's so unfair mom!" I burst, "why did God take Danny?" Mom puts her arm around my shoulders,
    "We'll never understand God Honey. We just gotta trust that He knows best! I'm just thankful for the years that God allowed us with him." Mom's smile is purely trusting, almost angelic. I stare at her, she looks so at peace!
     How can she just accept this? My heart rebels against trusting a God who could allow this much pain.
    "God!" I pray silently, "Maybe mom's okay with it! but I'm not!" I feel a bit of guilt accusing my mom of being heartless, I know she's not really okay with my brother's death! But despite God giving me a second chance at life, I feel angry and upset at Him. I don't want to tell mom, I know it'd hurt her, but if I stay, I know I'll explode, I stand up, fighting tears.
    "I'm going to bed." I say trying to control my voice.
    "This early?" Mom looks at the clock in surprise. It's hardly past 8:00 PM.
    "Yeah."
    "You don't want to stay and see the tree all lit up? I'll make cocoa and a fire in the heart." Mom offers hopefully.
    "That sounds good mom," I say heading for my room, "but I think I'll wait 'til tomorrow, see the tree all lit up first time, on Christmas Eve." I try to smile at her, feeling bad for refusing, but I know I can't stay.
    "Okay, goodnight, sleep well!" mom sounds disappointed.
    "Thanks, you too." I shut y bedroom door and go into my bathroom, turning the shower on, I undress and brush out my hair, I run my fingers through it. Trent used to love playing with my hair, I'm lost, floating back over the months to the summer when life was still half okay. Trent and I are sitting in the movie theater. I don't even remember what we're watching! I'm lost in him... his gorgeous brown eyes that just melt you, his scent wraps around me, familiar, pulling me in, he's twisting his fingers then letting it go, over and over. He seems to be endlessly entertained by my shoulder-blade length, straight naturally platinum blond hair.
    I trail my fingers down his face and trace his jaw. It's my 17th birthday, Trent has brought me out to a movie and it's uncertain after this what we're gonna do. He leans over and kisses me. Emotions flood me, in every kiss I can feel his love and passion.
    "You wanna go back to my place after this is done?" he whispers into my ear. I nod, I know I shouldn't and my conscience  is killing me but I ignore it. I've been raised believing virginity is something you save and give to only one man... I know what going back to his place will lead to. Trent is twenty and owns his own place so we'll be alone together. I push aside my doubts, after all, isn't this the one I plan to spend forever with? What does it matter when I give him my virginity? We love each other!
    I was so naive, so unprepared for the pressures! After that first night, I often went to his place. I suddenly felt very insecure, as if I had lost his love and respect. I watched, frustrated, hurt and jealous as he flirted with other girls. I gave myself more and more to him, trying to hang onto him, too attached to let him go.
    When I missed my period in October, I panicked. At first, I tried to believe it was just late, but when I began to be sick, an emotion wreck and constantly exhausted, I bought a pregnancy test. I sat in the bathroom at the drug store, watching the seconds tick by on my cell phone, when it showed positive I threw it away and tried another. I had to be dreaming! But the second test was positive as well. Tears splotched my face and I shook, scared to death of what would happen.
    I wasn't going to tell Trent, but when it got out to the whole school, I finally broke the news to him. The look on his face is forever burned into my memory. I'd never seen him this angry as he stepped closer to me, my heart hammered wildly and I thought it'd break through my chest.
    "Worthless little whore!" he cussed, "I never wanna see you again!" he opened the door behind me and towards over me. I stepped outside and he slammed it in my face. I turned away and got into my car, I'd never felt this worthless  in my whole life, so used, and cold and alone!
     I shiver, pulling myself back to the present. Tears spring to my eyes and I reach for the razor blade on the sink. I saw it through my hair, right below my chin, cutting it short all the way around, I look at my reflection as platinum blond hair floats to the rug all around my feet. Instantly a mix of regret and freedom floods over me. I turn away from the mirror and get into the shower. I soak in the refreshing warmth of the water flooding over me, momentarily forgetting some of my grief.  
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I slip under the covers in the darkness, closing my eyes, trying to close out the bad memories, hoping to sleep, but sleep evades me.
     "Jessica!" I'm five years old and Dad just got home from work.
     "Daddy!" I run to him, clinging to his legs. He swoops me into the air and catches me.
     "How's my little Angel?" he grins kissing my hair.
     "Good!" I giggle, " Mom let me have cookies and I had a tea party for Dolly and Growly Bear! Growly Bear was being bad and not minding his manners so he had to go in the corner!" I say soberly.
     "Uh oh!" Dad shakes his head and clicks his tongue. It always makes me laugh when he does this and he laughs with me, a deep, wonderful, daddy chuckle! Dad kisses mom who's setting supper on, I grimace, then helps me wash my hands and sit to the table.
     Danny comes out of his room, his nose in a book. He tosses it onto the counter and seats him self, so grown up for only being ten!
     "What you reading Dan?" Dad asks. Danny loves when Dad calls him Dan, it makes him feel like a man.
     "A book about pirates." Danny says, leaning forwards eagerly and animatedly recounting a gruesome pirate tale of Blackbeard and his crew. I listen intently, staring with large eyes at his face, soaking it in. 
     "Shush!" Mom scolds, setting a dish of steaming mashed potatoes on the table. "That's not fit for Jessie's ears!" 
     "But I like them mom!" I protest. She looks at me reprovingly. 
     It's quiet long enough for Dad to bless the meal, then Danny and I are talking over each other, through mouthfuls of mom's delicious mashed potatoes and gravy. 
      I sob into my pillow as I remember all the fun times with Dad and Danny, the loss cuts me open, bleeding, aching, lonely.
     After a while there's a knock on my door. I don't answer and my door opens. 
     "Jessica?" I'm silent. "Are you okay?" Mom sits on the edge of my bed. 
     "No!" I sob. "Mom!" I can't say anything else and for a while mom just holds me. 
     "You're hair!" she whispers, running her fingers through my chopped off locks. I sniffle, 
     "I had to cut it (sniffle) off!" I say starting to calm down a bit. 
     "Oh Jessica!" I can almost hear a smile in her voice as she says this, remembering the haircut I gave myself when I was seven that turned out similarly.
     "Sorry Mom!" I half laugh and then I'm crying again. "It had to go!" I insist. Mom is silent, inviting me to go on if I wish. I cautiously mention my pregnancy.
     "Are you angry?" I wonder. 
     "No, sad, not angry, I've had enough time to process my feelings about it waiting for you to talk about it." Mom voice is full of emotion.
     "That's worse!" I hiccough. "I'd rather you be angry than... hurt."
     "Oh honey!" mom says tenderly, "Not sad, like disappointed in you. I'm sad for you, that you had to go through this all and mostly by yourself!" 
     "When I took the test and it was positive, I didn't know how I'd ever tell you! I knew you'd be so disappointed." I sigh.
     "I ached every day, watching you carry your secret alone and then when the rumors got out, but I decided to let you come to me with it when you were ready and not force your confidence."
     "You new?" I ask surprised, trying to figure out a way she could have found out. 
     "I had a feeling." I'm silent.
     "I think I want to keep it." I say finally. Mom nods as moonlight spills through the shades, soft cream bars of light. 
     "If you feel that's best for everyone." mom agrees.
     "I think I'll forever regret it if I let her be adopted." I say decidedly.
     "Now, Jessica! Don't get your mind set on a girl." Mom chides gently.
     "I know. It just feels like it should be a girl!" With Trent's eyes and hair! I add mentally and my heart longs to hold him again. My mind tells me I'm better off without him, but my heart still years for him and his love...Wait! Love? He never loved me! I start to cry again. "I just wanted to make him love me mom!" I sob, deep, wrenching sobs shake me from the depths of my aching heart. Mom wraps her arms around me again and holds me until I've calmed down again. 
     Mom has never seen me this vulnerable, and I've never shared this deep, we've always been on okay terms but never this close. I feel vulnerable and yet, it feels safe. I look at her and the moonlight highlights a single tear running down her cheek. My eyes are puffy and hot and red from all the tears, I'm glad for the darkness. I pluck a tissue from the box on the nightstand and blow my nose loudly several times, somehow it makes me feel better. I try to smile at mom.
    "I think I"ll be okay, I'm going to try to sleep." 
    "Alright." Mom get's up, "goodnight." she says for the second time.
    "Goodnight, and mom, thanks! I say, our eyes meet in the semi dark. She smiles and hugs me quickly and leaves. As she goes down the steps, I catch a faint sob, but I'm not certain. I wish I could hold her and comfort her the way she does for me, but instead I whisper a quick prayer,
     "God, I know she believes You care and only You can comfort her, so please be with her tonight!" 
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      I sleep restlessly and wake a few times in the night, once to use the bathroom. I finally get up as the clock downstairs chimes 9:00. I slide my feet over the edge of the bed and onto the floor, throwing the covers to the end of the bed. I yawn and stretch, thinking about last night. My eyes are sore and I feel like I could sleep forever and yet when I try I can't fall asleep.
     I go to the bathroom and stare at my reflection in the mirror over the sink, my eyes are still red from crying last night and my hair is a sticking in all directions. I comb my fingers through it, I can't believe I cut it off. I've always been proud of my hair, feeling it my one beauty and now it's gone. I sigh and turn away, I undress and get into the shower, hoping it will wake me up a little.
     I stand for a long time under the warm spray, when I finally get out, I wrap a soft white towel around myself and grab one to wrap my hair in then realize I don't have enough hair to do that with anymore so I rub it dry with a hand towel.
     Reaching into the cupboard beneath the sink, I get a washcloth and turn the tap on hot. I wait until it's almost too hot for my skin and wet the cloth then press it against my face, it burns for a moment before cooling down a little. I wash my eyes and brush my teeth and I feel a little better.
     I go back to my room and dig through my draw. I don't feel like wearing jeans so I find a pair of clean, comfy sweats and a hoodie and head down stairs. I can hear mom in the kitchen already. As I enter I breathe in the scent of fresh cinnamon rolls.
     "Good morning Jess! Merry Christmas!" Mom smiles cheerily.
     "Merry Christmas Mom!" I hug her.
     "How are you feeling?"
     "I feel like sleeping forever but when I try to sleep, I can't." I sigh.
     "I'm sorry!" mom says sympathetically, she hands me a mug full of something hot. I take it looking at her questioningly, it smells like berries.
     "Herbal tea." she says. I grimace.
     "It tastes good." mom laughs, "And it's good for you too!" I take a tiny sip and surprise myself by liking it.
     "Okay." I give in. I seat myself at the table and watch mom set the table and put the pan of hot cinnamon rolls on the table.
     "Those smell amazing!" I exclaim sniffing the tantalizing aroma. Mom hands me a spatula and I scoop one onto my plate, caramel drips from the bottom and I scrape the bottom of the pan, making sure not to leave any. I put the spatula back into the pan leaning towards mom as she sits down across from me. Mom asks the blessing and I reach for the butter with my knife. We eat in silence mostly, aside from a few comments about the new blanket of snow that fell during the night.
     "Thanks for breakfast mom, I'm going to go rest for a little bit. And I still have gifts to wrap." I rinse my plate and cup and put them in the dishwasher.
     "Alright." Mom agrees.
     I go to my room and shut the door and lock it. I unplug my laptop and take it from my desk seating myself cross-legged on my bed. While I wait for it to load, I reach over and turn my radio on. It's tuned to the Christian radio station and I hum along with the song.  I click on the google icon and search for a pregnancy calculator. For the last few weeks, I've been too scared and too wrapped up in other things to research pregnancy but I realize I know almost nothing.
     I type in the first day of my last period and a few other things and click the calculate button. My estimated due date, June 16. I smile slightly just a week after my 18th birthday. What about college? The thought comes to me, and school? Tears sting my eyes.
     God? Why'd you let this happen? Why'd you let me get pregnant? Why? It'll ruin my whole life!! I remember my conversation with mom the night before, "I think I want to keep the baby." and suddenly I'm not so sure. I could drop out of school and finish my education at home, graduate in the spring and then the baby would come and someone could adopt it and I could go to college in the fall. A new start in a new place and no one would know about my past.
     God, I don't understand why you allow me this kind of pain! And why can Trent just get off like that? It's his baby just as much as mine! And he can just go and leave, but I'm here, stuck for at least nine months with this baby I didn't want and don't have time or money to take care of! It's not fair God! It's just not! 
     "I'll praise You in this storm, I will lift my hands, For You are who You are, No matter where I am, And every tear I've cried, You hold in Your hand, You never left my side, And though my heart is torn..."
     The lyrics to my used to be favorite song by Casting Crowns run through my mind in sync to the radio.
     Oh God! I half sob, I can't do it! I turn the radio off.
 
   Be strong and of good courage, do not fear nor be afraid...for the LORD your God, He is the One who goes with you. He will not leave you nor forsake you. Deuteronomy 31:6
     Lord, I just can't do it! Please take it away! 
     I search some more for other information about pregnancy and what to expect, all the sights are talking about going through it 'together' and every time I read 'dad' or 'your partner' my heart aches.
     "Why did Trent have to turn out this way God?" I whisper. Closing my eyes for a moment, I imagine Trent is with me and he promises to take care of me and baby. But then the memory of reality flashes through my mind and I blink my eyes open quickly, pushing away the memories. 

     I'm about 15 weeks along, just barely into the second trimester, my morning sickness is mostly gone, I've noticed stretch marks beginning to appear across my stomach and none of my clothes are fitting like they used to. I'll have to go clothes shopping and start using lotion, I've heard it helps stretch marks.
     I pull a notebook from my nightstand and find a working pen from the pencil holder and begin a list,
  
Drink Water - 40-80 ounces daily
Shop for new clothes 
Buy Cocoa Butter Lotion
Talk to Mom about seeing a doctor or something
Talk to Mom about options 


     I sigh and throw the notebook aside and shut my laptop, putting it back on the desk I go into the bathroom and pull my shirt up again, straight on I can still just barely tell any difference but when I turn sideways, I notice a slight bulge. I half smile. Time to go shopping! After Christmas there should be some sales anyways.
     I go back to my room and wrap Mom's presents and bring them down with me to put under the tree. We'll open them tonight after dark, it's tradition in our family. I smile as I set it with the other presents, with both Danny and Dad gone, the presents under the tree are sparse. I brush a tear from my cheek and turn away from the tree. 
     "Mom." I say coming into the kitchen.
     "Yes?" 
     "I need to talk to you. About the baby and all." Mom smiles and nods. 
     "Alright." I take a breath, I don't know why talking about this is so difficult, it just feels awkward and I'm scared to think about the baby, my baby... and my future, the baby's future... our future. 
__________________________


 I walk into school. It's the first day of school after Christmas break. I look around, I feel so out of place. These people I've been going to school with, some of them since 1st grade, suddenly feel like strangers. I remember previous years, hardly able to wait for Christmas break to be over so I could get back and see my friends again, but this year, I wished Christmas break would last forever! I readjust my backpack on my shoulder and stride down the hall towards my first class, hoping to blend into the crowd, trying not to make eye contact.
     "Jessica!" a familiar voice calls my name and I'm halted. I turn slowly, Rita's pushing her way through the crowd, her blond hair is pulled straight back into a ponytail, a few stray strands frame her heart-shaped face. She's wearing a navy blue long sleeved tee and loose blue jeans.
     "Hi!" I force a smile.
     "Hey! Good to see you! How are you?"
     "I'm fine, thanks. You?"
     "Great! God is so good!" I search her face, genuine happiness lights up her eyes. I just nod, my heart aching, longing for the days I could say that. Are you really God? Are you good? I suppose, to those perfect people like Rita. I think bitterly.
     "I'm late for class, I gotta go!" I say suddenly fighting tears.
     "Okay, I was gonna ask too, before you go, would you wanna sit at lunch with my girls and me? I mean, I'm not popular or anything, but if you want to we'd love to sit with you." Rita's laugh is musical.
     "Maybe." I nod and hurry to the bathroom where I go into one of the stalls, shutting the door I  lean against the wall and slide into a crouched position sobbing.
     God, where were you when Dad died? And Danny? And when Trent left me God? How can anyone call you 'good' when you let people die? I don't understand it! I whisper. I hear the bell ring and it makes me jump. I exit the stall and look at myself in the mirror, mascara tears are smeared across my face, I grab a tissue and wipe them away, my eyes are still kinda red but I don't have time to reapply my make up. I hurry through the halls to my first class, and slide into my desk just as the tardy bell rings.
     The morning drags by, I almost fall asleep during second period. At lunch, after getting my tray of food, I look around the dining hall until I see Rita, she's with about a dozen other girls that I recognize and know a few by name. A sudden unusual shyness comes over me and I look for an empty table but Rita's waving for my attention and I end up walking over to join them in the end. During lunch, I try to avoid questions and eyes. The girls are all friendly, and they all know my name. Several people stop by our table to say hi to me and ask me how I am.
     "How does everyone know what happened to me? It happened during Christmas break!" I say quietly to Rita after about the fifth person has asked me how I am.
     "News gets around." Rita laughs, "I think everyone's kinda feeling bad for how they treated you when they found out you were pregnant. Kinda responsible you know." she says soberly.
     "They should!" Ali an outspoken red head says adamantly. I'm silent, trying to read sincerity in their words.
     "Jess, we've missed you at bible study, do you think you'll come again?" Karla says, her thick southern accent reminds me she hasn't been here long. I smile at her, my eyes taking in her thick dark hair, it's so perfect, everything about her is perfect, I've always wondered why she wasn't popular, actually a lot of these girls are prettier than the 'in group' of girls, I guess it's just none of them have fought their way to the top, none of them are selfish enough or big-headed enough to fight for popularity, besides, none of the 'Youth group going people' ever are popular. I look from one happy face to the next, to them, Christ is worth far more than popularity, Jenna Harding and three of her girls are in the group. Just last year they were in the 'in crowd', now they're in the 'out crowd' so to speak, because of their Jesus. I find myself envying their peace.
     "Yeah, it's so early, and I never get enough sleep." I excuse myself, ignoring the longing for the peace I and joy I used to have, "I hardly make it to school on time it seems."
     Karla nods,
     "I know what you mean, but if you ever catch up on your sleep, we'd love to have you back!" She smiles. Next to all these girls, I feel so imperfect, so much more of a failure, I don't fit in with them. I excuse myself and thank them for letting me sit with them.
      "Please do again, we enjoyed it!" They all invite. I smile and leave thankful for the excuse that 3rd period is starting soon.
     I make it through the second half of the day and head for home, relieved to finally be able to go home. Jenna stops me on the way to my car.
     "Hey, Jessica, the youth group is going bowling Friday night, do you wanna come? I could give you a ride if you need one."
     "What time?" I try to act interested but all I really wanna do is get out of here.
     "5:30 and we're going to Pizza Hut afterwards, it'd be so awesome to hang out with you again, you always made the group so much more alive!" Jenna smiles.
     "I'll think about it and see how I'm feeling. Thanks for inviting me." I almost run to my car to keep from getting further sidetracked.
     I pull out my calculus homework and try to concentrate, after about half an hour, I go to the kitchen to get myself a tall glass of orange juice and go back to my room. After a few more minutes, I kick of my shoes and get into bed, unable to concentrate any longer, homework will have to wait. But once I'm in bed I'm suddenly wide awake and my mind won't shut down. I think about Jenna and her invite and the invite to the bible study.
     I'm not going! I don't want to be with any of those people, I don't fit in with them! I argue in my mind against the thoughts pressing in, telling me I should go. Finally I roll over onto my side,
     "I'm not going! I don't belong!" I say firmly aloud to myself. Pushing it out of my mind I drift off to sleep.
__________________________

  "Jess, Rita called last night, you were already sleeping and I didn't want to wake you up."
     "What'd she want?" I ask, grabbing the piece of toast mom made me and heading for the door. I overslept this morning and am almost going to be late for school.
     "She wanted to know if you plan to go bowling with the youth group on Friday."
     "Jenna already asked."
     "And?"
     "I'm not going!"
     "Rita said she could pick you up if that was a problem." Mom says anxiously.
     "I can drive myself."
     "So?"
     "I"m not going!" I almost snap, letting the door shut a little harder than I intended.
     The ten minute drive to school, I'm plagued by guilt. I sigh in frustration, at myself and my world.
     "I shouldn't have blown up at her, it wasn't her fault! Why am I so stressed out and why does it bother me to be bugged about youth group?" I ask aloud.
     Maybe I'm afraid of being guilted into going because I know I should want to go to youth group and have a relationship with God. How'd I slip so far?  The thoughts fight their way to the surface and I push them away, not really wanting to know why.
     I manage to make it through the day, mostly avoiding Rita and her friends. But all day my mind won't stop going around... Why do I care? Why does it matter to me? Why do I feel guilty? Finally on the way home I break down,
     "God, fine! You know what? I'll go to Bible study tomorrow if I get up in time and I'll go on Friday... are you happy? Can you just stop bugging me about it?" I slam my car door shut and stalk into the house, in no mood to chat, mom notices and leaves me alone as I slam cupboard doors and rummage carelessly through drawers in the kitchen, looking for something to eat. I find a box of Club Crackers and carry them with me up to my room.
     Tossing my backpack on the floor I flop onto my bed. Lying on my side, propped on one elbow, I stare out the window and munch on the crackers, letting the swaying branches of trees outside my window mesmerize me until reality fades and I'm lost in blank nothingness.


     I walk slowly through the empty school hallway. It's Thursday morning. Suddenly the halls fill with teenagers, hurrying to class, only thinking of themselves, some greet each other, some make themselves the center of attention and some are trying to fade into the crowd so they can get to where they're going without being bothered. I watch those that are just blending in, I've never really taken the time to notice them, now I realize they're all kinda like me. Suddenly it's like I can read what they're thinking, and each of them is hurting, lonely, scared, just like me. Why did I never notice this before? I've been hiding away like I'm the only one. Like no one understands the feeling of being the uncool one! When really all around me are people I could have been reaching out to and helping... people just like me that needed friends! A particular girl sticks out to me, she's familiar, pretty face, too thin, choppy, multicolored hair, ripped skinny jeans and long sleeved shirt. Her makeup is thick and dark, almost as if it's something to hide behind, and I find myself wondering, What's her story? What is in her past that has caused her to become like this? Who is she? Why haven't I talked to her before? I know the reason... even if I'm not very popular, she's really not popular and no one wants to talk to the group she's classified as, it's bad enough to be unpopular and not associated with the freaks! I feel guilty for judging her by the way she looks, for caring more about my reputation than another life. Suddenly someone jostles her and knocks the things she is carrying out of her arms, no one stops to help her, no one even goes around, they keep walking, making it difficult for her to gather her scattered belongings. I can see the tears of frustration gather in her eyes but she blinks them back, too tough to let anyone see her crying. She finally gets her things gathered and I see her head for the bathroom. 
      "Hey, I saw what they happened out there, I'm sorry!" I say following her. She turns on me, anger and hurt in her face.
     "You know what? It's really sweet of you to care, but nobody wants fake sympathy! Words mean nothing unless your actions say the same!" she spits cynically. I turn and exit the bathroom feeling hurt and disgusted by her rudeness but slowly the truth sinks into me, no one wants to hear something that you're just saying because you feel you need to. If your words and actions don't match, no one's gonna believe you! And it's not going to help them any to have your fake sympathy.    
   
     I wake with a jerk. It's dark out and everything is still and quiet downstairs. I glance at the clock, 12:09 AM, I lay back against the pillows with a sigh.
     Is that how you feel God? I pretend to everyone that we're okay, but I never do anything about our relationship and if I ever do go to church, I sing empty words that I don't act out and when I pray, it's 'cause I need something... Is that how you feel about me God? Like that girl? 
     I try not to think about it and just go back to sleep, but I can't. I toss and turn for an hour at least, finally I break down. 
     I'm sorry for how I've been living. It's not working out! I know I don't even deserve forgiveness, but God, if it's true that you love everyone no matter what they've done, if you can still love me after all I've done this year. God I need you! I want to change! Please help me! 
     As the whispered prayer leaves my lips, peace fills me and I sink into a dreamless sleep.