Pills and Potions

My legs move before my brain even tells it to. 

It hurts to breathe as I sprint across the campus grounds. The school blurs around me and I don’t know if I’m crying because Timothy threatened me or I don’t think I can be a father just yet or I’m just overwhelmed. 

I scrub at my tears over and over again, until my cheeks are red and painful to touch. 

I trip several times, almost hitting my head on the ground once but I finally make it to Jasmine about fifteen minutes later in one piece. 

She’s standing beside a car, and I slow my pace as I get closer. I notice she’s holding her belly. 

I rub her shoulders, my fingers tracing circles on her back, just the way she likes it. “How are you? Where have you been all day?”

She gulps, her throat working as if to keep nausea down. “School counsellor.” 

I let my hand fall from her back, “I thought you… would wait for me.” 

“I couldn’t—I just lost it.” Her hands twist in front of her, and I notice her nails are chipped. I’ve never seen them chipped before. “I had a panic attack.”

I pull her into a hug before she’s done speaking, trying to muster up the courage to ask the question that’s been on my mind since I saw her. 

“So where were you going?” 

“I was hoping you’d come with me…” Her voice trails off, and she bats her eyes, all bashful-like. I smile, I can’t help it. 

“Okay… where?” 

She blows air out, her look hesitant all of a sudden. “I’ve decided what I want to do.” 

My pulse immediately starts hammering in my throat, and my headache worsens. I wait for her to continue. It feels like someone’s trying to cave in my skull with an ice cold spoon. 

“I’m having an abortion.” And I feel the spoon move to my chest. Maybe it’s a knife? Why is this so painful? 

~

The planned parenthood clinic is hidden in the deepest recesses of Sophia, Navona. Abortion is still illegal in most parts of the country and even where it’s legal, the places you can do it are nondescript like this one, hovering between shutting down and being overcrowded. 

The waiting room is hot, and the chairs are so dusty I don’t want to sit on them. 

We have to wait for three hours before we are attended to. 

All the while we are waiting, Jasmine rocks back and forth in her seat by the wall. I feel myself getting weaker with every second that goes by, losing patience. 

“Jasmine Reed,”one of the crusty nurses finally says, raising her eyebrows mockingly when she sees how young Jasmine is. 

My shoulders tense, spoiling for a fight, but Jasmine just squeezes my hand, her eyes calm, and the anger I just felt is quickly replaced by sadness. 

We wouldn’t have to bear her nasty attitude if we hadn’t come here. If we hadn’t been so careless.  

I sink into the floor as Jasmine walks away. Trace all the lines and cracks in the blue interior of the clinic. Anything to distract me. 

The wait for Jasmine in the reception is shorter, but more tense. I’m losing a part of myself I never got to experience, aren’t I?

~ 

She comes out slowly, cradling herself, and I rush to her side, silently. 

I don’t know what to say to comfort her, she looks so downcast. Her lips don’t even attempt a smile when she sees me. I say nothing, allowing the silence lengthen until we get in the car. 

Her words flow like a river once we are inside. “They gave me a pill, it was so small and white.”

“I thought you hated pills,” I say. 

“Not as much as I’d have hated myself if I didn’t take it,” her voice rises as we drive farther away from the clinic, her driver sneaking peeks at the two of us as if we wouldn’t notice. 

“I took the first pill yesterday,” she says, her voice small, and I feel myself deflate a little. Why didn’t she tell me? 

I close the partition dividing the front and back seats, her driver giving me a nasty look as I move to do so. I don’t understand why she wouldn’t tell me. 

She continues, “The doctor was so nice, although the nurses were just plain mean. One of them didn’t believe me when I said I was eighteen too, as if I would lie about that.” 

“Hmm.” I rest my hand under my chin, trying to breathe as slowly as I can. 

“They said the worst of it would start in a couple hours. Will you come home with me?” She grips my hands as she speaks, suddenly looking fearful. Her eyes go wide. 

“I’ll have to take an exeat if I’m staying overnight. And you know my father would never sign that.” I laugh softly, and she smiles. 

I immediately think of my mother in the hospital, and the doctor’s report that she may have a surgery. 

I bring out my phone to text my brother and as I’m typing, I notice he’s also typing currently. 

He finishes before me. She’s entering surgery now. 

I look back up at Jasmine, feeling my shoulders slouch. Should I go back to the hospital? I can’t focus on Jasmine’s eyes right now. 

“Will you at least stay till dinner?” Her voice comes in waves—like there’s a door between us. Or a river. 

I shake my head, my father’s voice from earlier reminding me I may not be welcome there.  

The car hums on for what feels like forever — fifteen minutes, then half an hour, the city lights blurring past. By the time I finally answer, the silence has grown heavy.

“I’ll stay,” I say to Jasmine, taking her hand and smiling at the uncertainty in her eyes. 

“Oh—Ahhh!” Her face scrunches up, her hand going to her belly as she screams the loudest I’ve ever heard her. 

The car screeches, swerving, and for five seconds we are lifted off the road.