Care for a Shot?
By: RDV
She had loved him since he was twelve. Since she was eleven. When they were sixteen he got her pregnant. He was a truant most of the time, which began as far back as anyone could remember and which he stayed so longer than he had to. He didn’t finish high school. He wended through his life being a petty criminal. She loved him still even if she had to stop school for her childbirth, even if he did all humiliating things which somehow saw their way through the local tabloids. Embarrassment wasn’t enough, love was. Love was well-appropriated, sustaining and encompassing.
In her last month of pregnancy, he decided to feel guilty for a change. Her long-suffering back had had enough, he just caught wind of it. He’d do everything now; drugs, sex, homosexual acts, pilfering, snatching, everything before the kid was born. By then, he’d be totally clean. He staked his claim on this. He said he’d be alright, so long as the kid would be.
But it didn’t. It came out dead, stillborn. It was blue all over. He couldn’t understand why. He was too lost. She, however, was calm. But thinking had to be done for him, lots of explanation and everything had to be showered on him like one would on a child. In the first place he had no right to be there. He hadn’t been anywhere near a responsible father. No, she didn’t kill it. It was just weak. He should leave now. The medical procedures with which he was interfering was now being delayed. The girl needed rest and her parents didn’t want him there.
So he left, never to be seen again until the girl’s next pregnancy. He was the father again. They met in their rendezvous occasionally, clandestinely. No one could’ve understood why she ruined her resilience and recovery at life the second time around. He was no good. He was back to being the criminal that he was, a society drop-out, an also-ran and a dangerous presence. Maybe she still loved him, anyway there was no knowledge on which decision such as getting pregnant could be made on. She was stupid. She thought being with a child would be favorable to her. No, it was an endless source of worry to her friends, parents and siblings.
This time the second child was alive. It was a boy, robust, visibly healthy and kicking at birth. Alas, the bound still existed, even strengthened. He had reason to believe that he had custody over the child. He would be accepted in her circle once more, because he was the father.
He was wrong again. He was on the police’s black list now. With the help of his and her parents he would be in jail for the innumerable crimes he committed, for the bounds he trespassed on. Dreams of establishing a family disappeared out of his consciousness and peace would reign in her life once more.
She had loved him since he was twelve. Since she was eleven. When they were sixteen he got her pregnant. He was a truant most of the time, which began as far back as anyone could remember and which he stayed so longer than he had to. He didn’t finish high school. He wended through his life being a petty criminal. She loved him still even if she had to stop school for her childbirth, even if he did all humiliating things which somehow saw their way through the local tabloids. Embarrassment wasn’t enough, love was. Love was well-appropriated, sustaining and encompassing.
In her last month of pregnancy, he decided to feel guilty for a change. Her long-suffering back had had enough, he just caught wind of it. He’d do everything now; drugs, sex, homosexual acts, pilfering, snatching, everything before the kid was born. By then, he’d be totally clean. He staked his claim on this. He said he’d be alright, so long as the kid would be.
But it didn’t. It came out dead, stillborn. It was blue all over. He couldn’t understand why. He was too lost. She, however, was calm. But thinking had to be done for him, lots of explanation and everything had to be showered on him like one would on a child. In the first place he had no right to be there. He hadn’t been anywhere near a responsible father. No, she didn’t kill it. It was just weak. He should leave now. The medical procedures with which he was interfering was now being delayed. The girl needed rest and her parents didn’t want him there.
So he left, never to be seen again until the girl’s next pregnancy. He was the father again. They met in their rendezvous occasionally, clandestinely. No one could’ve understood why she ruined her resilience and recovery at life the second time around. He was no good. He was back to being the criminal that he was, a society drop-out, an also-ran and a dangerous presence. Maybe she still loved him, anyway there was no knowledge on which decision such as getting pregnant could be made on. She was stupid. She thought being with a child would be favorable to her. No, it was an endless source of worry to her friends, parents and siblings.
This time the second child was alive. It was a boy, robust, visibly healthy and kicking at birth. Alas, the bound still existed, even strengthened. He had reason to believe that he had custody over the child. He would be accepted in her circle once more, because he was the father.
He was wrong again. He was on the police’s black list now. With the help of his and her parents he would be in jail for the innumerable crimes he committed, for the bounds he trespassed on. Dreams of establishing a family disappeared out of his consciousness and peace would reign in her life once more.
posted by Ria D. at
10:51 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home