MISFORTUNE

I arrived home to a strange site. Rane usually stays at the law office for at least an hour after school gets out. She was sitting on our beaten-up brown couch, and although her just-wavy-enough blonde hair was covering her face, I was sure she was crying. “Mom,” I asked shyly, “what’s wrong.”

            “Hi honey,” she said trying to compose herself. “Taylor, we uh�"“ she chocked back more tears and looked up at me. The soft red under her pale face showed me shed been crying for a while. “We need to talk. Can you come sit down?”

The last thing I wanted to do was sit. This was so completely out of character for Rane. Rane was the girl that never quite grew up. She was never very good at talking to me about anything remotely serious�"she always made it a joke. I went and sat down next to her, feeling my stomach turn with the awkward tension.

“What’s up?” I said.

“Well,” she sighed, straightening her back and taking a deep breath, “I, um, I’m pregnant.” Her lips pursed together and tears started falling again from her emerald green eyes.

I was absolutely stunned. Who wouldn’t be? This was so sudden. I was just having a nice, normal day and them bam! This happens? Questions ran wild through my mind as I was supposed to be responding to her. Is she dating someone? Or is she still bringing home men from clubs when I’m asleep? I thought she had stopped doing that? Does she know who the father is? Is he going to be a part of this mess now? Oh god, is Abarrane going to keep it?

“Well god Taylor!” Rane exclaimed, interrupting my thoughts, “Say something! I’m drowning over here.”

“What do you want me to say mom?” I said harshly, suddenly angry with her in all of my confusion. “Oh Congrats!” I said sarcastically. “Whoop-de-doo, you know how to have sex. At least this time you’re not 17!” I snapped, half yelling.

“Taylor!” she said, wide eyed, in her very best attempt at a motherly tone.

“What? What do you want me to say to something like that? I�" I don’t know�" I don’t understand what you want from me? Did you expect me to be happy? You can barely raise one kid, if one can even say you’re raising me! This is insane! I have a million questions. What are you thinking?” I started to tear up, while Rane was full on bawling again. I waited for her response, feeling guiltier every tear of hers that fell to the soft blue rug beneath her. “I’m sorry,” I said, only half meaning it, “I’m just stressed out by this, I think.”

“No, no,” Rane said trying to collect herself once more, “I’m sorry. I know this is unfair for you. And I don’t really know what I’m thinking right now, I just found out a few hours ago. But I didn’t think waiting to tell you would help.”

We sat in awkward silence for a few minutes. I wasn’t exactly sure what the code of conduct was for these situations. I wanted to ask questions but I knew I shouldn’t so I just asked, “Well what now?”

“I don’t know.” She paused, “I don’t know.”

Author's Note

I'm 16, I'm new to creative writing, and I would love constructive criticism!