Pregnant Journey

Something that may or may not have happened many years ago. The memory plays tricks as does the life of a student.

My life as a student. This morning my body ceases to work in unison with my head. I feel awful. There is too much going on. 'The horror, the horror of it all', breaks in Colonel Kurtz aka Marlon Brando. The time is roughly 10.00 am and Apocalypse Now is trying to force it's way out of the television. The sound control is up to maximum and there is a connection to two massive 100 watt speakers that are strategically placed in the room. With the windows open, we wait for the neighbours to crash and bang on the walls telling us to turn the sound down. After last night they are probably too exhausted to bother.

 

            We play cards in a desperate attempt to win money from each other. The idea was to give one of us a chance to survive a few days longer without a visit to the Bank of Mum and Dad. The first arguments start when the alcohol runs out.  At first we shout and scream into the early hours, then fight before leaving a deathly hush. That probably scares the neighbours more than anything. However, if they are waiting to find out if we are still alive, they now know.

 

I dress in what I pretend is a US GI uniform, in fact a cheap East German army shirt from the Army Surplus store, a regular haunt for me. On my feet are black Doctor Martin boots, scuffed, unpolished and tidied with flourescent green laces. Trousers are standard student issue, ripped straight legged jeans. This particular issue came into my possession after falling into a pond at John's house. He gave me a pair of his favourites and I never gave them back. I also have a cool 'Suck My Lollipop' t-shirt. It's cool because the word 'Lollipop' is hidden in my trousers so makes the shirt attention seeking and offensive.

           If I could be sure when I last washed I would say. An electric razor rubs itself over my face carefully because of a broken mains lead. Once or twice I receive a shock that helps wake me. Toothpaste is rubbed on with a finger and I gargle some brown tap water. I am nearly sick and gag for a few seconds wondering what will happen next. Then I recover and am ready to leave the house.

 

The Ride of the Valkeries accompanies this mornings walk. The tune is going around my head again and again. I feel dizzy and stop after a few minutes. A smell of rancid beer and stale cigarettes is following me from the house. I realize this stench is from my clothes and once more feel the sickness rise. When the time comes to drink and smoke I will be ready though.

 

           The local Off-Licence comes into view. I have recently discovered two new drinks that satisfy my meagre money supply, one being Old English Cider, the other being Medium Sherry. Whether these are any more healthy than the normal consumption of  Special Brew and Tenants Super lager is a debatable question.  Tenants is known as good value for money for students, often known as Tenants Soup, a whole meal and drink for the day.

            I have no money so I look down, following grey cracks in the pavement, ignoring the store, instead searching for pennies or a dead cigarette end. In my pocket is a Golden Virginia pouch that I collect up any 'left overs' with. I find one and add a small shred of tobacco, eventually hoping to have enough to make a roll up.

             The nicotine will kill me, or at least add to my ills. Television and huge billboards tell me not to smoke. I want to make my own decisions. If I am told not to do something, I will do it just to spite that person and also discover myself the reasons why.

            I kick a can of Coke aimlessly into the road before following it's path. Today is Sunday, a day off from the grind of student study. I should be in Church. I should be working but all that is for the future. Now I have other things on my mind and I want to find somewhere to think alone and in silence.

 

In the first mile of my walk  I  am lost in thought. I pass the place where my problem first occurred. Staring at the house I wonder if she is in. Maybe a curtain twitches as though my walk was predicted. I'm not sure and move on quickly wanting to avoid any possible altercation.  Two weeks previous I had watched soft pornographic movie double bill at Ealing Cinema with my two housemates, Tony and Charles and we were completely bored. The films were the B***h and the Stud starring Joan Collins. The occasion livened up only when  the police were chasing someone through the cinema.

            I knew about pornography. I was first introduced to dirty films by Chicken George, a Nigerian I met in Hastings. He named himself 'Chicken George'. Personally I was happy with this as it was a lot easier than our attempts at saying his full name and thus saved any embarrassement.        He was there because his parents wanted him away from his home country and to establish a decent career for himself. His intentions were different, regularly inviting groups of friends to his flat to smoke drugs, drink alcohol and watch his porn collection that consisted of a strange fascination with Ron Jeremy.

            I wondered about the fascination of sex to a student. Now I was away from home for the first time in my life. There were no boundaries. I was free. Even so none of us in the student digs were familiar with any of the girls at Ealing College of Higher Education. This was despite the overwhelming number on the Catering Course. We were all busy making friends with whoever we could but the sexes were not yet mixing.

 

Of course, real sex changes everything. George's films left a tantalising stain on my memory. I  left Hastings College pure and innocent apart from those ideas in George's films. With those thoughts in mind I then met Chrissy. Not only did I meet her, I was seduced by her, watching every movement of her body, every flash of a smile, every time she pulled a cigarette from her mouth.

            I want to describe her but know I will miss parts of out, the parts that first attracted me and those parts belong to just her and I. She was as tall as me, around 5'6”. Her hair was blondish although when I ran my fingers through it, I found dark hidden roots. She had a pretty little nose that stuck upwards at the end, green eyes and an attractive mouth.

            Chrissy was neither fat not thin. She was well developed, the smoking acting as a food inhibitor with the drinking a little on the heavy side but not too excessive. She knew her limitations.

 

I pass the spot where we first kiss. She had experience, I had none. Chrissy gave me a taster of what a full on sexual woman could do, my emotional balance was changing. I became her little pet animal forever after some 'be good' treats. I stop and can see us, feel her tongue enter my mouth for the first time.

            There is a street light in Mattock Lane. The time is 11.15pm. We clinch on the corner together as one against a fence. People pass but we are no longer in this world, instead in each  others  fantasy. The feel of her lips, the touch of her tongue against mine, leaves me breathless. She entices my hands into her blouse and I fumble incompetently. She has my fly undone then stops. Pulling herself away she says -

 

'Come with me.' and briskly moves away.

 

I have morals that vanish and my brain moves into my trousers. We take a footpath behind St Marys Church and stop on a short bridge over the Picadilly tube line.  Here she lets me kiss her again. I know her house is only a brief distance away. This is the point where I think of the Clash song 'Should I stay or should I go?' She wants me to be sure and knows I am scared.

 

'Do you want to? Forget an invite for coffee, that wastes too much time and Sonia might hear us.'

 

I laugh nervously then add -

 

'But surely she will hear our moans and groans of passion?' This was a very brave thing to say for a first time. I am acting as porn star, Ron Jeremy, in one of Chicken George's films.

 

'Well, you will have to keep control of yourself then.....'

 

I follow her, holding her right hand. We arrive at her front door and she fumbles for her key. I wonder about her last comment and what it means. I try to say something.

 

'Shhhhhhh....' she says, 'keep quiet until we are upstairs.'

 

Once there, Chrissy leads me to her bedroom. I sit on the bed in the dark waiting for her to return. Then, being brave, I get undressed and sneak under the duvet cover. The toilet flushes and suddenly I want to go myself. There are voices. Sonia and Chrissy are talking but I cannot hear their words. I realise I am no longer in control of what will happen next. As the door opens there is light. I am frozen like a animal in car headlights. Chrissy sees my discomfort and laughs. Sonia shouts 'Goodnight', Chrissy replies then she studies me. She is fully clothed on her return. Perhaps this is wrong.

 

The movies flicker back. Marlon Brando is looking closely at me:-

 

'So are you going to do it? Do you have the balls son?' I'm not sure.

 

Joan Collins is saying 'Oh my God, Now Now now, Ohhhhhhh!' I laughed at this. It was so false.

 

Ron Jeremy appears, 'Size doesn't matter, it's what you do with it that counts.' The man had spoken the words of truth.

 

I want to reply 'But I don't know what to do!'

 

The bedroom light is out. She is somewhere in the room but my eyes take a while to adjust before catching her in the corner, taking the last of her underwear off. She makes her way towards her side of the bed.

 

'Are you still awake?'

 

She is not expecting an answer. I know this because before I am able to open my mouth, her lips meet mine. I feel her body up close up and naked.  There seems to be a feeling of electricity between us. I touch her, at first this is building confidence with my hands on her arms, then her neck, her hair, and finally a quick touch of her breasts. She lays over me leaving room between our bodies, before suddenly turning and laying away from me.

 

'So, are you going to do it?'

 

This time the question resonates around the room, not from a film, not pretend, this is real, happening now. I feel her hand move to my thigh slowly, moving between my legs.

 

'I think you are ready.....'

 

'But what about protection?'

 

'I'm on the pill. Don't worry.' she replies reassuringly.

 

I think I am shaking but try to put a brave face on and move over her until I am now level with her face.

 

'Where do I put it?' I ask trying to retain some kind of  dignity but failing.

 

I am waiting for the question, 'So it's your first time, how do you feel?' That is all I need to leave and seek sanctuary in the toilet. But Chrissy is quiet, instead taking my erection and methodically putting it inside her.

            At this moment I recall a close friend of hers whispering in my ear, 'You know, it's as big as the Mersey tunnel down there. Don't get lost.'

            I am panicked, more so when I feel her begin to gyrate her hips. In a dream the whole event lasts for ten or fifteen minutes. We try a ridiculous number of positions, some which make us laugh, some requiring great concentration and balance. In reality seconds pass and my first sexual encounter  is over. At least, that is what I thought.

 

Two days later Chrissy is in tears. Sonia tells everyone I am a b*****d then screams at me that Chrissy has missed her period and fears she is pregnant. The pill Chrissy takes was earlier that day  forgotten. I am about to mention this was not my fault but think better of it. Instead I am wondering now about protection from suddenly becoming responsible.

            Sonia fears the worst and forces me to realise that Chrissy and I could have a child, should  marry and spend the rest of our lives together. I am going to be a 18 year old father. I am going to have responsibilities. My life will change from wasting years at college, drinking and smoking, to becoming an adult before my time.

 

'Oh s**t!' I say these words out loud on my walk. There were kept quiet from Sonia, never even thought about when I saw Chrissy later that day. She looks a wreck.

 

And now I walk on from this spot. Ultimately, the world is a learning process. That seems a very philisophical comment. There are two things to make me realise this. The first is in spending £10 at a pharmacy for a pregnancy testing kit. I have no idea about the cost of these things. As soon as it was in my hands I left the store in a hurry without collecting the change.

            Finding out how one works and how to read the result is a nerve wracking experience. Two human beings sit together and wait for colours to appear on a plastic tube. This will reveal destiny. We sit side by side but ultimately miles apart.

            The second realisation is when the test is negative. In some ways I am desolate. To succeed in creation is the goal of  humanity. Apocalypse Now paints scenes of violence and desolation but people were created to make this. Pornographic films give encouragement for our bodies to be in the act of replication.

            I find 20p and have enough tobacco to make a roll up. I light up the cigarette and immediately cough. There is a roar of an airplane above and I look up and see white clouds in blue sky, nothing new, but something I usually ignore.

            There is a gate leading to Walpole park where I go and find myself a bench to sit on. Here I sit and listen the sound of birds in treetops, an occasional dog bark or child shout. This is an ideal place to meditate.

 

From no-where comes a tramp. He sits next to me and starts talking. I listen to words about his fights in life, the war,  his battles and eventually his downfall in losing everything. I feel better hearing his account. My brief scare disappears from my mind. I drink from his cider bottle, nake him laugh and he shows genuine surprise that I am spending time with him. I am wanting to tell him my story when he hands me £10 and then vanishes into the bushes from where he came.

            When I walk back home I smile for the first time in days. I spend the money on drink and cigarettes and my life as a student starts again.

Reviews

[Amanda]

I loved this. In the first few sentences, I'll admit I was thinking, "oh no, another rambling early-morning-routine opening sequence," but this kept me captivated start to finish. Your writing style is fabulous, and I doubt there are many people in the world who CAN'T relate to this account in some way. Bravo. I would give it another once-over for minor grammatical errors and mistypes (I noticed about 3), but otherwise, this was perfection.

[Tinabells]

The title itself brought me here... I would say that you have the potential to become a writer of a book. The words you use are common which made it easy to understand. This is nicely written, good job :)

[Mrs Mania]

What an amazing story (not to mention extremely relatable especially to today's youth)! When I first read the titled, I almost expected this to be another one of those "teen mother" stories and I even expected the narrator to be a female. I was both surprised and impressed when I came to realization that the main character was a male. I am a huge fan of this story because it shows what the thought process could be for a man if his woman were to get pregnant at such an early age. Not only is the a phenomenal story for adults to read, but it is also one that would be great for adolescents to read as well. I feel as though it would provide a good life lesson to them.

The only thing I noticed that could use some improvement were some very minor grammatical mistakes but other then that, the story was written very nicely and perfect down to the last detail.

[Stanley R. Teater]

Thank God we are 18 only once. I really liked this line: "my brain moves into my trousers". So true... so true.

[Philip Muls]

Very philosophical, yet very down and dirty, real-life stuff. Strong imagery, good descriptive style, fast-paced, makes you wonder what will happen next.

It is very much alive and kicking. Love it.

Could you read some of mine.

[Kelsey Schadt]

I enjoyed this piece from your description early on, to your dialogue later. I would have liked some more character interaction earlier on in your writing, but I get the need to introduce the characters. I also thought you developed an appropriate voice for the protagonist. Well written!

[R. A. Merritt]

In the beginning with him wandering about on a Sunday morning all dirty and decrepit from an evenings drinking and drugging I was reminded of the Kris Kristofferson song that Johnny Cash sang "Sunday Morning Coming Down". It certainly rang true even for someone my age recalling the 60s when I was a teenager and going through the same angst about relations with young women, the tension of knowing how inadequate one feels as far as sexual relations develop between the two genders. No doubt the reference to the flight of the Valkyrie was prompted by the movie when the air cav unit that the Colonel Robert Duvall when they swooped in on the ville, which is what we called them when I was over in SE Asia. The writing was superb and I could readily get the image of the scenery as the tale unfolded.

[Corisica]

OH MY GOODNESS. As I was reading the part of Chrissy taking the last of her underpants off, the song "Be Prepared" started playing on the Disney station of my Pandora. I'm sorry, I could not suppress my laughter.... That aside, this story has AMAZING imagery and details! I love the ending - the Kafkaesque bit about the 10 that comes back to you in the strangest of ways. I really, really like the way you go about telling your loss of virginity. Incorporating the porn stars, and your buddies. Good work, kid.

[Jeannear]

great very well written :)

[Maria Linden]

This was amazing, love your writing style. Is it a true story?
If so, your ability to write about yourself in a way neither self-deprecating nor conceited is fantastic.

[ganga ramesh]

this is a fabulous write minus those samall misspellings and grammar mistakes here and there...you have a captivating idea on the whole...a very good one and your title is magnetic...:)