Twisted: Part 1
Note: Each part can be read separately or altogether as a story.
My heart catches in my throat and my hands shake as I see the results. It’s positive. Swallowing nervously, I wait until Walter comes to me. As soon as he sees it he grabs my hand and pushes me into the Birthing Center. The door slams behind me as he wastes no time. Women I’ve never met sit scattered around the room in front of sewing machines, knitting needles, puzzles, coloring books, and bookshelves. Before the Birthing Center, it was the Treatment Center. There I chose Gabe Linkess as a pressured choice for a father. After weeks, I finally see our efforts have paid off. A golden blonde in a pink tank walks up and puts out her hand. “I’m Megan,” I shake her hand in return and tell her I’m Roxanne. All the other women have proof they’re pregnant with growing tummies while Megan and I don’t. Not yet anyway.
The dull shade of blue covers the walls and ceiling with darker blue curtains to match. Just like all the rooms, bars can be seen to prevent escape. It’s tough having the weight of repopulating the world on your shoulders, but sharing the terrible present with each other isn’t so bad. Of course, this is my first baby if it turns out successful. The smell of soup quickly fills the room and soon we all settle down to eat in cushioned wooden chairs. We exchange names and I soon learn Megan and I are the only ones having just their first.
After a lovely evening of talking, I went to sleep for the first time in a long time not having trouble sleeping. Stretching, I scrabble off the thin mattress and start towards the door that leads to the outdoors. The others join me as a woman called Beatrice makes her rounds and opens the doors. Within minutes, I find myself in the back of a crowd as everyone gathers behind the Birthing Center door. Screams of agony drift among the airwaves and I cringe with a bad feeling. Walter pops out, takes bloodied gloves off, and asks Beatrice to take the baby. That’s the bad thing about this situation. We don’t get to take care of our own children.
Weeks go by as I get introduced to all the ladies. I water some potato plants in the garden area while Megan picks tomatoes. Suddenly, Sam races over not looking where he’s going. Shooing him back from the plants he almost trampled, he pants and ushers me away privately. “Roxanne, you’ve gotta help me!” He says between breaths and using my shoulder for support. His usual gentle brown eyes now a whirlpool of fear. “What’s going on?” I ask concerned. “They’re going to kill me! It’s been almost two months and I still can’t get Jane pregnant!” He exclaims in panic. Two simple words form as I reply, “Let’s escape.” He nods in exhaustion and I look to the west where only a chain link fence stands. Please work.