autumn and molly
molly's real name was marlene, but no one who knew her referred to her that way. she didn't have a marlene sort of face; hers was soft and open, pink--mollyish. she resented this and wore an unfortunate amount of dark eyeliner and burgandy lipstick in order to tip the scales, but she was what she was, and really, when you think of all the things a girl might turn out to be, soft and pink are not so terrible.
unless you are having an especially terrible day, which, on this day, molly was. she'd had several weeks worth of them by this time, and, because you probably don't know her, and if you do there's a good chance you've heard this story, i don't think she'd mind me telling you why.
molly was pregnant. the pregnancy was the result of a drunken post-party encounter that molly had not been a truly active participant in. she had, in fact, been asleep when it began, and the boy was someone she knew, a good friend of good friends, and she had stumbled away from it so rattled and confused that she had not spoken a word to anyone for four or five days, and after all that silence she didn't know how to say it out loud. she realized she was pregnant a month later and quietly made an appointment to quietly end things.
when the day came molly couldn't sleep or sit still, and the droning ticks and hums of her small empty apartment were leaching the oxygen from even the coolest and whitest corners. she put on her eyeliner and her coat and headed out to the nearby library, thinking it would be easier to maintain her composure in a public place and that pretending to read was as good a way as any to pass a couple of hours. she still hadn't told anybody.
in an otherwise empty aisle on the second floor a boy came around a corner and bumped into her, knocking three large books out of her arms. she began to cry. when he bent over to pick them up she spun and ran, leaving him mute and goggle-eyed, kneeling with a book in each outstretched hand.
she found a bathroom and pressed her soft face to the chalky green tile wall, and she doesn't know how long she stood up against it, sobbing. nobody entered or exited in that time, whatever length it was, and when she came back into herself she noticed two things: the wall, and she could only assume her face, was smeared with inky rivulets of black makeup, and there was a girl about her age sitting across from her on the floor, wedged between a stall and a sink.
they stared at each other for a while, and then the girl reached around behind her and into her book bag. she pulled her hand back out and offered it, palm-up, never taking her eyes off of molly's face. molly kept her eyes on the girl's hand as she stepped forward and bent over and saw that it contained several crumpled and fraying packages of sweet tarts. when she looked up she saw that the girl's eyes were swimmy with unshed tears.
"i'm autumn," the girl said.
molly sat down on the floor in front of her and picked up some candy. "i was raped. i'm having an abortion. today."
autumn didn't blink, didn't move at all, but her tears finally made their way out and onto her cheeks. "i have sour peaches, if you like those better."
unless you are having an especially terrible day, which, on this day, molly was. she'd had several weeks worth of them by this time, and, because you probably don't know her, and if you do there's a good chance you've heard this story, i don't think she'd mind me telling you why.
molly was pregnant. the pregnancy was the result of a drunken post-party encounter that molly had not been a truly active participant in. she had, in fact, been asleep when it began, and the boy was someone she knew, a good friend of good friends, and she had stumbled away from it so rattled and confused that she had not spoken a word to anyone for four or five days, and after all that silence she didn't know how to say it out loud. she realized she was pregnant a month later and quietly made an appointment to quietly end things.
when the day came molly couldn't sleep or sit still, and the droning ticks and hums of her small empty apartment were leaching the oxygen from even the coolest and whitest corners. she put on her eyeliner and her coat and headed out to the nearby library, thinking it would be easier to maintain her composure in a public place and that pretending to read was as good a way as any to pass a couple of hours. she still hadn't told anybody.
in an otherwise empty aisle on the second floor a boy came around a corner and bumped into her, knocking three large books out of her arms. she began to cry. when he bent over to pick them up she spun and ran, leaving him mute and goggle-eyed, kneeling with a book in each outstretched hand.
she found a bathroom and pressed her soft face to the chalky green tile wall, and she doesn't know how long she stood up against it, sobbing. nobody entered or exited in that time, whatever length it was, and when she came back into herself she noticed two things: the wall, and she could only assume her face, was smeared with inky rivulets of black makeup, and there was a girl about her age sitting across from her on the floor, wedged between a stall and a sink.
they stared at each other for a while, and then the girl reached around behind her and into her book bag. she pulled her hand back out and offered it, palm-up, never taking her eyes off of molly's face. molly kept her eyes on the girl's hand as she stepped forward and bent over and saw that it contained several crumpled and fraying packages of sweet tarts. when she looked up she saw that the girl's eyes were swimmy with unshed tears.
"i'm autumn," the girl said.
molly sat down on the floor in front of her and picked up some candy. "i was raped. i'm having an abortion. today."
autumn didn't blink, didn't move at all, but her tears finally made their way out and onto her cheeks. "i have sour peaches, if you like those better."
posted by juniper pearl at 2:12 PM
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