Chapter 1: Thick, Birdbrained Opinions

I have never been delicate. As a child, I would stomp around the house, not conscious of my movements or noise. I played with my toys as I pleased. Plastic never shatters, even under the most tyrannical hand. These traits followed me into adulthood. I never sat fully upright when I ate. My elbows most certainly touched the table and I never denied my body food. When I stepped, the arch always hit first with a heavy thud. Not the graceful echo of a heel, but the echo of a woman who took careless steps throughout the world. I was never cognisant of how my body moved until others decided to take it upon themselves to inform me.

It wasn’t in high school, although I am most certain others laughed in private. Teenage girls are cruel, but women act with such savagery that nothing is left but a husk of what once was. 

“Have you seen the way she walks? Oh god Ava. I can’t help but laugh. I have never seen a less feminine woman before. I mean she really doesn’t need that extra creamer in her coffee. She can barely fit through the door as it is!” she snickered.

Ava giggled, “You are the worst! She is pregnant though, Marcy.”

“So what! When we were pregnant, we were still able to keep our figure and feminine grace. Sometimes I think she would have been better off as a man! Let’s hope that baby takes after Daniel.”

The woman continued to cackle as I retreated from the kitchen door. I was going to ask if they needed help preparing dinner, but I cried in the bathroom instead. I was in my third trimester then. 

I miss the ignorance I owned before that day. The happiness I held for 24 years of my life. I thought I was kind, friendly, beautiful even. Now when I glance in the mirror, I look for what they might find. How they could change the interpretation of how I view myself. The worst part is, I loathe how I give them that power, but how can I not. We have been given our place in this world. Cook. Clean. Look pretty while doing it. Find a man. Have children. If your man dies, find another one. If that one dies, then another. An endless cycle until you die. Accept the life the world has assigned to you. What a cruel thing that most women live longer than men. 

My husband has been dead for almost 3 years now. When Daniel first passed, people were understanding, helpful even. They would bring casseroles in pretty baking dishes and offer awkwardly long hugs. They might offer to help around the house or watch Winnie so I can have time to myself. If you have ever been a widow, then you understand how having time for yourself is the cruelest punishment of all. A quiet house is just a reminder of what you lost. Some might even offer for their husbands to come help with the “manly duties”. If only they knew that I was the one who mowed the lawn, not Daniel. I often wonder how much of their display was an act of the heart. Was it just what you do then walk away thankful it wasn’t your husband that is in the ground? 

As time passed, so did their kindness. It became less “Oh poor girl! I couldn’t imagine losing my Harry. Makes me shudder just to think about it.”, to “You know, it's been three years now. That little girl needs a daddy in her life. Without a father figure, who knows how she will turn out.”. I never understood the shift in their thinking. 

When I met Daniel, I knew that was it. It was over. Searching. Dating. Hoping. He was the only man I would ever marry, ever love. He was Winifred’s father. Yet they wanted me to replace him as if he was a dimming light bulb. He had served his purpose, but it is time to go to the store and pick out another just like it, maybe a bit shinier or brighter. That’s what they don’t understand. There will never be another Daniel. People never cease to surprise me with their ruthless assumptions and moronic opinions. Well, those jackasses can take their thick, birdbrained opinions and shove them right back up their… I better not…….

…tight asses. That felt good to say.

 

Reviews

[Gary]

This got my attention and held it to the end. I am, however, wondering how your main character is pregnant from a man who has been dead for three years. I guess I have to keep reading.
There is one thing I will point out. We don't know your main character's name. It's not a big deal to me personally. But some say they can't connect with a character if they don't know their name.

[Emily G]

Thank you for reading. I purposely wanted it to be vague and then you discover more about the character as the chapters progress. I also purposely didn't include a set time or place because I wanted it to feel timeless in a sense. I appreciate your feedback and taking your time to read my first chapter!