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Even without the overseeing presence of Zoe with her, Agnes didn’t feel lost. She didn’t feel alone, especially with the little life she was bearing. Thanks to Zoe, she thought.
She was walking, the violet setting sky slowly darkening around her.
Agnes felt more free than any other point in her life, she walked down the grey, winding sidewalk with confident steps. The sidewalk snaked around the pinprick houses of the neighborhood, the next square of concrete looking exactly like the last, making Agnes’ eyes swim with confusion when she stopped to take a breath.
Even with confidence, Agnes still got tired and needy for a break more often than before. She was thinner, she knew, but it only made her feel lighter, every step she took felt like she was walking into the air.
Smiling fondly, Agnes crawled her fingers from her side to her stomach, resting over it and convincing herself that if she pressed hard enough she could feel Zoe’s boy’s heartbeat. At that moment her stomach decided to churn, the pain causing her to sit down, her bare legs hitting the grainy sidewalk.
Agnes wanted to enjoy this, she wanted this. Through the uncomfortable stirring of her guts she tried to smile and coo at the perpetrator. She wanted him, and she wanted Zoe to be with them- the mere thought of Zoe having abandoned them made Agnes tear up. She would keep emailing, she would keep begging and apologizing, another child would not be abandoned by their mother for something they can’t help.
The woman couldn’t hold herself up anymore, causing her to lay her head in the grass to the side of the sidewalk. Agnes, weak and dejected, rolled onto her stomach. She pressed it down onto the cold concrete, as if to tell her worm to settle down.
If she was anymore mentally fragile she would sob and call out for her sponsor to save her, to take her away and keep Agnes safe from the society that rejected her. Agnes pulled her sweater closer to herself. She needed touch and warmth, like how a newborn needs skin-to-skin contact to survive.
Light hits the side of her face, she could see the red of the back of her eyelid, but she didn’t open her eyes.
Clicking steps make their way up to her crumpled form.
“…Agnes?”
The aforementioned woman squeezes her eyes tight and contorts in a sob. She tastes acid, vomit making its way up her throat, though she swallows it down to whimper out,
“Mom, I need-“ tears dripped into her mouth.
Agnes vomited, barely missing her mother’s slippers.