Chapter Text
She stepped into the cold bathroom. The fan buzzed and clicked unnaturally; it was probably broken but she hadn’t had the energy to fix it or even to call someone to fix it. Looking at herself at the mirror, she felt broken too. Her collarbones jutted out above the hem of her off-the-shoulder t-shirt, though, they’d always done that, to some extent. Her eyes were dark, her skin too white, sickly. Overall, she looked gaunt and lifeless, despite the attempts at ‘healing’ and ‘recovery’ (not happening) since they were rescued.
She placed the white plastic bag atop of the sink in front of her. It was flimsy and weak- just like her, she thought, after she’d vomited twice already this morning. Going to the gas station was a last resort, after she failed to keep down her anti-nausea, anti-anxiety and anti-depressant medications. Anxiety had fucked her over before but, these symptoms had been ongoing for a week now, and she wasn’t even trembling, so this was no longer normal. Maybe I’m just sick. Her periods hadn’t been regular for years now, and a late one wasn’t a big deal, she had told herself. She took the test out of the bag and silently prayed for a negative result as she took it.
The noise coming from her phone startled her. Two minutes was up, yet it had felt like two hours. She prayed to God again, despite having stopped believing in Him many years ago. Breath hitched in her throat, she flipped the test over.
That….couldn’t be right. She held the stick up closer to her face, though the image in front of her didn’t miraculously change. Frantically, she read the entire box cover to cover, hoping she was somehow misunderstanding something. Defeated, she dropped the box and dropped her head into her now clammy hands. There was no way. This was just another one of her nightmares. No. Natalie wished that was possible, tried to delude herself into believing it, but, her nightmares were always about something she had already experienced. She had never actually experienced this (despite the rumours that spread like wildfire when she was in 11th grade, skipping school because her dad was dead and not because a senior had ‘knocked her up’). Well, shit. This was real life.
Getting air into her lungs became a struggle and she tried to think rationally, but she really couldn’t. Nothing her shitty therapist had taught her could help her now. She lowered herself to the ground, the blue tiles like ice on her jittery hands and faintly scarred wrists as she leaned back. The coolness calmed her just a little.
Oh, how she wished she could go back to before the crash, when maybe this wouldn’t have felt so soul-crushing. Her life had been…difficult, obviously, ever since her father had made the decision to despise her and especially since the day that he blew half of his face clean off with his shotgun.
Pregnancy’s a miracle, Nattie. Don’t be ungrateful.
Sometimes she saw his face (or what remained of it that day) when she closed her eyes.
Natalie caught herself crying now. She wished things could go back to how they were- she had friends and a future, she was decent at soccer and she could get through the day, given that she smoked a cigarette or two each morning. Now every day was a fight; she had been in survival mode for too long.
‘It’s in you already.’ she remembered Lottie telling Shauna, on one of their first days in the cabin. Nobody really knew what she was talking about back then. Natalie couldn’t help but think about Shauna now. She must have been terrified. As sad as it was, everyone knew she wouldn’t have been able to feed the baby anyway. Her screams, low and agonising, still haunted Natalie, and she knew she wasn’t the only one who still heard them sometimes. Misty’s teary eyes as she looked down at her bloodied hands were hard to forget; the look on Tai’s face when she broke the news too. Shauna was… many things , but nobody in the world could deny that she was strong. Natalie didn’t think she could survive a loss like that.
They were on their way to Nationals. Things could have been so different if they’d just made it there. Maybe then she wouldn’t feel guilty everytime she found herself feeling happy, and perhaps she wouldn’t feel so guilty now, as she pictured the future she could have with a child of her own .
Stuck in nostalgia, Natalie heard that familiar chant: “Buzz! Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!” playing like a broken record in her head as she let herself cry for all they had lost. A few minutes passed. She wasn’t really keeping track - she couldn’t stop crying as more and more memories flooded back to her.
Bzzzzt. Bzzzzzzzzzt.
Oh. A different sound now - her phone was ringing. Bad timing. The sound of it clattering by the side of the sink was making her feel unsettled, so she forced herself up off of the floor to pick it up.
Shit. Of course it was him. He always showed up when she didn’t really want him to. (She would be lost without him.)
Her hands shook. She couldn’t answer, not now, not like this. Why would he be calling anyway? She declined and immediately texted him.
sorry can’t call.
i’m sick
Not entirely a lie, though not giving him all the details. She powered off her phone, not wanting to know what his response was; she needed time to think right now. The thought of telling him terrified her. How would he react? Nat wasn’t stupid. She knew it wouldn’t be good. They were fresh out of highschool for fucks sake. Not even six months ago they were out there, eating people . Together . The only reason they’d even fucked was because they were bored and drunk. Nat wanted to feel something and Travis… Nat wasn’t sure what Travis wanted. She knew she loved him, and he had told her the same that one time but it felt like a long-term relationship was impossible for them. The two of them felt irreparably damaged. They had seen each other at their worst and maybe that had been their downfall all along.
She killed his little brother.
Oh god. She felt sick to her stomach again. She didn’t deserve to carry this baby. Maybe Shauna would have actually been a good mother. Not Natalie. How did she end up here? Did she forget to take her pill or some shit?
Stupid fucking slut.
The voice in her head was her own, this time.
If she told her mother, she would certainly get disowned but Vera hadn’t been much of a mother to her for 5 whole years, so Nat could cope with that loss. Now she wondered who she could safely tell about this. A little advice would be much appreciated.
Shauna?
Hell no. She would understand but it wouldn’t be right to do that to her.
Misty?
Helpful. She would probably send 10 teen pregnancy forums and 6 at-home abortion methods, depending on what Natalie told her. Was she trustworthy though? Hm. Contacting Misty was an option.
Tai?
Smart, responsible, maybe a little judgy? Like: ‘why would you put yourself in that situation?’ No. Taissa would probably be pretty caring about it. Nat vaguely remembered the way she spoke gently to Shauna, holding her hand during the birth. A shiver ran down Natalie’s spine.
Maybe she should just get rid of the baby. This wasn’t going to be like what happened to Shauna. She was lucky enough to be able to abort her baby safely, right now if she wanted to. She could just get it over with and save everyone the trouble. All she had to do was make the call. She cleaned the floor before washing her hands and face and picking up her phone. She had the clinic’s number saved from an appointment she had gone to a few months back, though she couldn’t bring herself to press it. The image of Travis’ reaction when he found out she had done this without even telling him about his child’s existence appeared in her head. It flashed from angry to hurt to angry again: Natalie did not want that to be reality.
She drove to Travis’ place in silence. Her usual ‘Bikini Kill’ CD didn’t feel right for this journey. Her nerves built as she got closer to his home. It was only 2pm, so she knew Ms. Martinez was still at work, thank the Lord. By the time she had parked and left her scratched up Ford, her hands were shaking again. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door. Within a few beats he opened it:
“Hey. Come in.” He looked confused. Probably because she told him she was sick then stopped responding completely.
She didn’t even try to fake a smile as she stepped into the living room. She couldn’t.
“Nat? You okay?” Naturally, he was concerned.
Only now did she think about the fact that her cheeks were probably blotched pink from the tears. She found herself blinking fast to keep herself from crying again. She turned away from him and began silently pacing the room. She bit at her short black nails, trying to gather the courage to speak. Shit, her and Travis had been through their fair share of difficult conversations, but still she felt ill at the thought of opening her mouth now.
“What’s going on?”
They weren’t a normal couple. She couldn’t just tell him: ‘you’re gonna be a dad!’ and run into his arms, couldn’t have him hug her whilst they laugh and smile. They were nineteen and stupid, with a bit of money leftover from a plane crash that ruined their lives. She would be lucky if she got any response from him at all.
She stopped walking and finally turned to face him. He stepped closer. She could smell him. Prepared for this moment, she had placed the test in her pocket, in case her words wouldn’t do the job. With a sigh, she grabbed it and held it out to him, purposefully looking away as she did. She looked back to check that it was upright, and it was, the two pink lines staring back at her and Travis, the culprits behind their existence, maliciously. She looked up at him to see his eyebrows knotted together tightly, like he wasn’t quite sure what he was looking at. After a few, long, agonising seconds, he looked up again. His eyes were widened, like a deer in headlights. She could practically see his heart drop to the floor. She could also see that he was doing the math in his head. 5 weeks ago. It was fun at the time. Nat gulped and put the plastic stick back in her pocket as she looked at the floor, slightly ashamed of herself as she remembered that night.
“You’re— uh-“
“…It’s.. definitely mine?”
Her head shot up.
“What?”
The offence in her face was unequivocal.
“You can’t blame me for asking.” He put his hands up in the air.
She stepped back, pushing the palms of her hands into her eye sockets for a couple seconds. What the fuck? Why the fuck else would she be here, after they hadn’t seen each other in weeks?
“Travis! Are you- are you fucking kidding me?”
He opened his mouth to speak but now the heat of humiliation was burning Natalie’s cheeks and she wasn’t going to let him make it any worse.
“Of course it’s yours!” she spat.
“But you’re- we’re not… exclusive.. like that. I had to ask!” His hands flailed awkwardly as he tried to explain himself. He was blushing too.
“I don’t know about you, Travis, but I don’t sleep around!”
Hot tears were streaming down her face now. She wasn’t sure why she was hurt by his question, but she was. She turned away and looked up at the off-white ceiling.
Quieter now, but loud enough for him to hear her: “You think I’m a whore? That’s how this happened, right?”
Oh she was so hurt. She felt pathetic even saying these words, but maybe that was how he thought of her. They were together in the wilderness out of desperation, and now they were ‘home’ it was like they only spent time together when they wanted sex or drugs. She wondered if she meant anything to him. Her heart was racing and it ached.
“Natalie… you know that’s not what I meant.”
There was pity in his tone, like he was ready to hug her or something. Like predicted, within seconds she felt a soft touch on her right arm. She shrugged him off.
“Fuck this.” She said with a stupid little shake in her words.
She inhaled.
“I don’t even…” The words threatened to catch in her throat.
Exhaled.
“I came to tell you I don’t want your fucking baby, okay?”
She storms towards the door embarrassingly quickly, desperate to escape.
“Natalie!”
He sounds hurt, and it hits Natalie’s heart like a bullet. It took everything within her to not just step outside, slam the door behind her and break down. Though, no matter how offended she felt, she knew she couldn’t just leave him like that and drive away. She turns back around, making an effort to glare at him as she does.
“If you don’t… want to keep it… do you want me to come with you? I don’t have work for a few days.” He said this whilst fidgeting with his hands a little, she noticed.
Natalie thought about it. Would she want someone by her side supporting her through it all? Or would that just make her feel more guilty…?
She couldn’t have him there, she realised. It was important that she was alone for this. She would think about him later.
“No thanks.” she said monotonously.
He nodded, a hint of sadness in his brown eyes. She headed out of the door, taking care not to slam it. The anger had dissipated since he asked that. It showed that maybe he did care, maybe he didn’t think of Nat as just another teenage slut who got herself pregnant. She sobbed as soon as she sat down in the front seat of her car. All she could do was hope Travis wasn’t looking through his window. She wondered if he had ever wanted to become a dad. Honestly, she doubted it, but maybe that was just wishful thinking. She hadn’t given him much choice in the matter but, it was her who would have had to go through The Horrors of Pregnancy for the next 9 months so, perhaps that was fair.
When she gets home, she feels not only exhausted, but also disgusting. She takes a hot shower immediately. It feels like the longest shower of her entire life. All she can think about is her baby. The way it won’t even get to exist. She’s going to take away a chance at life. ( Again . ) She stands unmoving, feeling totally vulnerable in the steaming-hot stream, until her fingertips are wrinkled and her entire body is red. Placing a hand to her abdomen, she wonders what pregnancy would feel like, if she kept the child.
To protect herself from the flesh-eating guilt, she reminds herself that it has only been 5 weeks since conception. She listened enough in biology lessons to know that the foetus couldn’t feel or think yet. It would only cause her pain. She didn’t deserve wasn’t ready to be a mother. Ritualistically, she reminded herself of this as she dried her hair and body and faught to fall asleep. She reminded herself of this as she called the clinic, hands and voice shaking in fear like she was back there in the wilderness. She reminded herself of this as she finally drove to the place. When she got there the first thing she spotted was its tacky, pink signs, crumbling and somewhat sun-bleached.
A small leaflet fluttered from a nearby lamppost and onto the ground - Natalie didn’t dare to pick it up, in fear that it would burn into her mind some terrible image of a baby being ‘murdered’ as part of some poor girl’s abortion. Fuck fuck fuck. She wasn’t sure she could go through with it. She wasn’t sure this was even the right decision. She needed help.
Before she could really think it through, Taissa had already picked up the phone.
“Nat? What’s going on?”
She thought she could hear Van in the background. They were together again. Cute.
“Soo…. If I tell you something, can you promise you won’t freak out?”
“Depends what it is.” Such a sensible response. Typical. (She knew she could count on Tai.)
Nat urged herself to speak. You’ve done the hard part already. She’s a good friend. It was hard to forget how kind Tai had been to Shauna in those harsh winter months, through the pregnancy, the birth, and the grief, too.
“I’m at the abortion clinic.”
A crackle reverberated through the speaker as Tai exhaled a long sigh. “Oh.”
What’s going on? Tai’s microphone picked up a small, curious voice in the background.
Natalie could picture Tai raising a finger to her mouth, politely shushing her nosy girlfriend.
“I uh- do you mind if Van knows about this?”
“No, but…no one else, okay?”
“Of course.” Her seriousness reassures Nat.
“So you’re pregnant.”
“Mhm.”
“But you don’t want to be?” Taissa adds before Nat can say any more.
“No. Well, I’m not sure, and I’m fucking terrified, and I didn’t know who else to call.”
“I’ll be here for you whatever. You’ve told the father, yeah?”
“Yeah.” Nat bit the inside of her mouth, remembering. “Travis is fine with it.”
A low chuckle could be heard through the phone. “Wow. Didn’t know he had it in him!”
“Taissa! This is serious!” Nat feigned sternness, but a bashful smile crept across her face as she spoke.
“I’m sorry. You’re right.” They both laughed a little. It felt nice, despite everything.
“You know about the different types of abortions, I assume?”
“Yeah. I’ll get the pills. It’s too early in the pregnancy for the surgery or something. That sounded scary as shit anyway.”
“Okay Nat. You can do this. Let us know if you need anything at all.”
“Thanks, Tai. Tell Van I said hello.” She hung up quickly before she could overthink things again.
Sitting in the waiting room, Nat felt like the walls were closing in on her. It was too colourful. She tapped her foot rhythmically on the ground and bit her nails, hard. The noise probably made the women sat next to her hate her but she didn’t have the brain capacity to care about their opinions right now. The only thing that made her stop was the sharp pain in the tip of her right index finger, as she realised that she had bit her nail down to the skin, and it was now bleeding. She sucked it, tasting blood, and kept a straight face like the sensation didn’t take her back to a time when she tasted, smelt and saw blood all the time . The rags, the stews , the squelch as she pierced his flesh and watched the life drain from his eyes, the dark crimson on the knife , surprisingly cold as it touched her hands, then her face . She felt her breathing quicken and immediately bit her nail again, jolting herself back into reality with the pain. Learning to be normal again since the wilderness had certainly been a struggle. She was in public now and she had to act like it. Not like the caniballistic murderer ‘ survivor ‘ she was.
“Nat, I love that you don’t care what anybody thinks.”
Jackie didn’t know how wrong she was. She had never gotten to know Nat. Now she never would.
The nerves and Jackie had made Nat feel seriously sick. It was hot and loud in the room. Her stomach practically did a flip. Oh god . Pretending to be calm and collected, Natalie walked to the bathroom, which was luckily only a few steps away. When the door had closed behind her, she threw herself to the ground of the stall closest to her. She was acutely aware that it would be so fucking embarrassing if anyone were to walk in now, but she didn’t have time for a more flattering position. Holding her own hair back with one hand and bracing herself over the porcelain with the other, she wretched until it hurt. Gross. She blinked back tears as she coughed, recovering. She hadn’t even eaten anything, yet it seemed her body felt the need to expel whatever it could. She was so hungry too. Suddenly, she realised that the prospect of the termination was a lot less daunting - it meant she would never have to experience morning sickness again.
When Nat finally spoke to the doctor, the older woman kept trying to tell her about the risks, checking that this was ‘definitely the right choice’ for her. It made her feel sickeningly uncertain again. After asking Natalie’s age, the doctor’s whole demeanour changed. She seemed surprised - Natalie wondered if it was because she looked older than 19, or if it was the fact that she was 19 and pregnant . She spoke softer now too, and Nat felt patronised.
“Look- I’m not a child okay? I swear , I am not being ‘ coerced’ , this is my decision. I want to go through with the abortion. Please .” She hated begging. Why was she always begging?
Nat received the pills in a discreet little box and sighed in relief. As soon as she was home, she took one with water. All she could think about was how her their baby.. no , just an embryo , would be gone forever as she sat there, anxiously waiting for the potential side effects the doctor and the internet had warned her of. For the first day, she felt pretty normal and she thanked God for that.
The next morning, she ate a small breakfast and didn’t vomit, so she was eternally grateful. She took the second set of medication, which needed to be placed between her cheek and her gums. It was strange - like, she was taking drugs, but not the fun kind.
About an hour later, Natalie wondered if she was dying . Her face was wet. Sweat or tears? She wasn’t sure anymore. Her body jolted unnaturally with the pain every few minutes, meanwhile every muscle ached. With each contraction of her lower abdomen, she felt like she was losing her fucking mind. Seeing so much of her own blood scared her too. It was like a period, except her ovaries had suddenly been replaced with razor blades, determined to tear her open from the inside.
She was desperate to do something, take something, anything , to distract herself from the pain. Tylenol wasn’t doing much. She knew a bender would work better but she had been clean and sober for a month now and she knew she would regret it if she ruined everything. Plus, she wasn’t sure if alcohol and coke would fuck with the abortion, which wasn’t over. In a panic, she gripped her phone and sent a text to the only person she wanted near her.
can u come ovr ? ihad the abortion it hurtsz
She realised that her spelling mistakes made it seem like she was drunk, and she didn’t want him to get the wrong idea.
btw im clean as a whisdtle . just fuckin dizzy
Thirty minutes passed, and the cramping had become slightly less severe, but Travis hadn’t showed or replied to her texts. Natalie had managed to get changed into a somewhat presentable outfit. She even brushed her hair. Clutching her phone, she typed out another message:
travis i need you. im serious
She figured a little emotional manipulation wouldn’t hurt anyone. As she was about to hit send, she heard a knock at the door. Opening the door took longer than usual as her hands began to shake again.
“Holy shit. Are you okay?” he questioned, placing his strong hands gently on her shoulders.
Nat fell into him and sobbed into his chest before he could even get one foot in the door. Loud, wracking sobs took over her, luckily muffled by his shirt. She grips him tightly, clutching like he’s about to run away. But he’s not running, in fact he stays still and she can feel him take a deep breath before placing a hand on her head.
“Hey…hey. It’s okay,” he whispered, running his fingers through her (admittedly damaged and oily) hair in stroking patterns.
He then placed a kiss on her forehead, which only made her unravel even more. He was being so sweet and caring, even though she had just killed his child. Dirty little sinner
“I’m so sorry,” she mumbled almost incoherently, taking short breaths between each syllable, “I didn’t even give you a chance to think about the baby and now it’s gone and- and it hurts so fucking bad Trav-“ He practically carried her to the couch. Natalie analysed his face. He looked genuinely upset, and she sensed that it wasn’t because he wasn’t to have a child, but because he hated seeing Natalie in pain. The last time Natalie remembered being in this much pain was when she was returning from the mountain after begging and screaming for help, the icy air eating through her skin, seeping into her very bones until she wondered if she would even make it. She did, barely, only to be faced by Shauna’s wrath before she had even warmed up. Travis was far too drunk to remember that day, she thought, and she didn’t blame him. It was fucking awful.
They were both sat on the scratched couch now, awkwardly far from each other, Travis staring at Natalie like she was about to break. She wondered if maybe she was.
“I don’t care that you got an abortion, Nat.” The words sound cruel, but he smiles sadly as he speaks, reassuring her that he means this in the kindest way.
He hesitates before he speaks again.
“We- we both know what happened to Shauna. Maybe it… wouldn’t have gone well.” Ouch. There was nothing directly offensive about what he said but, it felt wrong that Natalie was being compared to Shauna. She could have been raising her little boy now… fuck. Nat’s lip trembled.
“Yeah. I’m too fucked up to have a kid.” Nat forced a chuckle to avoid this coming across too serious.
Travis just looked sad.
Natalie winced, turning her head away before breathing the word ‘fuck’.
“Oh- is there anything I can do?”
“Hold me?” Natalie was weak. He’s not your boyfriend .
“Wait- no, I’m sorry. You don’t need to do that. I don’t want to make it weird.” Please please please. She was cramping up again, badly. She waited for his response. All I want is to be held.
“It’s not weird. I’m here for you.”
Natalie was so happy she almost forgot about the agony. Like karma, it got suddenly worse. Hunched over, she cursed under her breath. Panic set in quickly when the pain didn’t pass and it made her want to throw up. He placed a hand on her lower back but, that wasn’t what she needed. She wasn’t about to crawl to the bathroom (she wanted to hold on to some dignity) but she needed to get there somehow .
“I… can’t believe I’m saying this…but, can you help me walk?
Without a word he lifted her, his arms hooked below her armpits. She rose to her feet quickly- it was probably very easy for him. When they reached the bathroom, she had to physically push him to get him to leave. It seemed like he didn’t understand the urgency of the situation. She grasped the toilet. The room was spinning. Natalie turned and noticed he had left the door wide open.
“Could you shut the door?” she shouted, unwanted bitterness in her words. This was scary. She wanted to be scared *alone*, she couldn’t cope with him watching her anymore.