*NaNoWriMo*
Prompt Six:
Anything. So long as somebody gets knocked up in the end.
Even I wasn't expecting the direction I took this in.
He promised me the world. Anything I laid my eyes on, he swore it would be mine forever. Silly boy, thinking anything could happen if he just wished it so. I knew better. Rationalizations were my strong suit, my saving grace. Carefully planned out pro and con sheets litter my house. Statistics come second nature to me. I didn't believe in fate or wishes, hell, I didn't even believe in hope. Life was strictly black and white.
Well, it was for a time. When I was a child, I never noticed the colors, so I didn't feel the loss when I blocked them out. I locked myself into a view of the world that no one could change.
Every day, every week, every year progressed the same way. I got up and made coffee, I went to work, promotions occurred on a regular basis, when I got lonely I went to a bar. My entire life was safe. There was almost a protective bubble around me. I made sure to be the big fish in little ponds by calculating every decision and accounting for every variable I could.
My life was right on track. I sat very nicely in a secure position with no plans of changing anything. It was perfect. Until a Friday night when I felt a little lonely.
I sojourned down to the bar I frequent. One night stands are great stress relievers. All the endorphins and none of the relationship. Four or five cocktails later and I thought Prince Charming himself was walking me to his place. I think I may remember slurring or mumbling something or other about a condom, but I really can't be sure.
The first time I missed my period, I knew it. I track these things, and I am usually very regular. I was more than a little pissed. So I strode down to the abortion clinic, by myself, during my lunch break that Monday. The procedure didn't take that long. I didn't give it a second thought, just went back to work.
It was another two years before it hit me. I got home one day and had a break down. When I could stand to see myself in the mirror, I felt stronger than I ever had before.
The next day, even though I wasn't feeling particularly lonely, I took a trip to my neighborhood bar. The guy sitting in the far corner seemed awfully familiar. We spoke for a little bit, enough for me to remember that he was the guy from before. It's odd to speak to someone who doesn't know you were carrying their baby. The two of us proceeded to get rather drunk.
This time when he walked me to his place, I didn't think he was Prince Charming, but something else, something from my childhood I couldn't quite place. Again, I requested a condom, this I remember clearly. Again, I was a little more than surprised three months later.
Being the assertive, proactive, go-getter that I am, I stormed into the bar that Friday. He was there, waiting in the corner.
"Get another abortion?" he slurred.
"What the fuck is your problem? And how the fuck did you know I got the first one?" I spat out.
"I know everything. Of course, you wouldn't know that, because you don't know who I am. You never even asked for my name, only for my body. And I gave it to you, because that is what I was sent here to do." He explains as only a drunk man can.
"What the fuck does that even mean?" I began to get rather irate.
"What is your name?" He looked at me through half closed eyes.
"Mary, but I don't see what that-"
"Exactly. You are Mary. Now think back to the fairy tales you were told as a child. Think about the men who lulled you to sleep on those uncomfortable benches. Think, Mary, just think about it." He said, interrupting me.
"Are you saying what I think you're saying?"
"That all depends on what you think I'm saying, now doesn't it?" He asks with a smile.
"I don't want anymore of your mind games. Just tell me, what is going on here." I was getting confused and exasperated.
"Well, you're not having a virgin birth, that's for damn sure. However, my dad seems to have some use for whatever fruit comes from your womb, or whatever. All I know, is I was sent here, to this Godforsaken bar, which I can say, because I have forsaken it, repeatedly, to get you drunk and to, for lack of a better term, knock you up." Jesus slurred.
"So, you're telling me that you, Jesus, knocked me up because God told you to? Because my kid is destined to great things?" I asked, not believing a word.
"That sounds like what I said. It's obvious you don't believe, that okay, they never do. Just know that if you decided to have another abortion that you'll be going through all of this again. My dad allows for free will, but the bastard is still pretty fucking insistent when he wants to be. I suggest you just have the damn baby." Jesus motioned to the bartender for another drink.
"Goddamnit, fine. I'll have you're fucking god-child. But don't think it's because I want to, I'm just avoiding having to fuck you again."
"We both know that's a lie, but don't worry, I won't hold it against you later."
"Did you just wink at me? Did Jesus fucking Christ just make a Heaven joke and then wink at me?"
"See you later, Mary," Jesus said while getting up from the table.
"Okay then, Jesus," I said rather incredulously. "But wait, I have one question."
"And what is that?"
"Why me?"
"Why not you?"
"I'm not even remotely religious. I have sex with strangers. I'm not in the position to have a child. I never wanted a child. I don't even know if I believe in fucking God, though, I guess now I can't not believe, but still. I just don't get it."
"No one knows why God does the things he does. He isn't accountable to anyone, so he's allowed to get away with a bunch of crazy shit, and boy does he. That's just the way his is. The only thing you can do is hope he doesn't fuck up your shit. And if he does, then just go along with it. It'll be a lot easier for you if you just give in to what he wants."
"That's really fucking creepy. You know that, right? Some cosmic asshole is playing a sick and twisted game, and he experiences none of the fallout. He is literally playing with people's lives. What's going to happen if I say no?"
"You can't say no. I already told you. You'll just end up back here."
"That's not what I mean. What if i say no? What if I refuse to play by his rules? What happens if I take my life into my own hands?"
"Then the task will fall to someone else, and you will be dead."
"Some benevolent God this is."
"You know, it was you guys who gave him that moniker. I think he was set on Bad Ass Mother Fucker, or something else equally as asshole-ish."
"So I have to either have this child, or kill myself?"
"That's the situation, yeah."
"Goddamn Motherfucker, fine. I'll have the fucking kid."
"Thanks, Mary. He appreciates it, I do, too."
Then he left. He walked out of the bar, and no matter how many times I returned, he was never again in that dark corner. I'm still not quite sure if he actually Jesus, or just some drunk man, and I don't think I want to know. Sometimes the truth just can't be found in knowledge, and must be found in ambiguous shadows displayed on the wall of willful ignorance.
Anything. So long as somebody gets knocked up in the end.
Even I wasn't expecting the direction I took this in.
He promised me the world. Anything I laid my eyes on, he swore it would be mine forever. Silly boy, thinking anything could happen if he just wished it so. I knew better. Rationalizations were my strong suit, my saving grace. Carefully planned out pro and con sheets litter my house. Statistics come second nature to me. I didn't believe in fate or wishes, hell, I didn't even believe in hope. Life was strictly black and white.
Well, it was for a time. When I was a child, I never noticed the colors, so I didn't feel the loss when I blocked them out. I locked myself into a view of the world that no one could change.
Every day, every week, every year progressed the same way. I got up and made coffee, I went to work, promotions occurred on a regular basis, when I got lonely I went to a bar. My entire life was safe. There was almost a protective bubble around me. I made sure to be the big fish in little ponds by calculating every decision and accounting for every variable I could.
My life was right on track. I sat very nicely in a secure position with no plans of changing anything. It was perfect. Until a Friday night when I felt a little lonely.
I sojourned down to the bar I frequent. One night stands are great stress relievers. All the endorphins and none of the relationship. Four or five cocktails later and I thought Prince Charming himself was walking me to his place. I think I may remember slurring or mumbling something or other about a condom, but I really can't be sure.
The first time I missed my period, I knew it. I track these things, and I am usually very regular. I was more than a little pissed. So I strode down to the abortion clinic, by myself, during my lunch break that Monday. The procedure didn't take that long. I didn't give it a second thought, just went back to work.
It was another two years before it hit me. I got home one day and had a break down. When I could stand to see myself in the mirror, I felt stronger than I ever had before.
The next day, even though I wasn't feeling particularly lonely, I took a trip to my neighborhood bar. The guy sitting in the far corner seemed awfully familiar. We spoke for a little bit, enough for me to remember that he was the guy from before. It's odd to speak to someone who doesn't know you were carrying their baby. The two of us proceeded to get rather drunk.
This time when he walked me to his place, I didn't think he was Prince Charming, but something else, something from my childhood I couldn't quite place. Again, I requested a condom, this I remember clearly. Again, I was a little more than surprised three months later.
Being the assertive, proactive, go-getter that I am, I stormed into the bar that Friday. He was there, waiting in the corner.
"Get another abortion?" he slurred.
"What the fuck is your problem? And how the fuck did you know I got the first one?" I spat out.
"I know everything. Of course, you wouldn't know that, because you don't know who I am. You never even asked for my name, only for my body. And I gave it to you, because that is what I was sent here to do." He explains as only a drunk man can.
"What the fuck does that even mean?" I began to get rather irate.
"What is your name?" He looked at me through half closed eyes.
"Mary, but I don't see what that-"
"Exactly. You are Mary. Now think back to the fairy tales you were told as a child. Think about the men who lulled you to sleep on those uncomfortable benches. Think, Mary, just think about it." He said, interrupting me.
"Are you saying what I think you're saying?"
"That all depends on what you think I'm saying, now doesn't it?" He asks with a smile.
"I don't want anymore of your mind games. Just tell me, what is going on here." I was getting confused and exasperated.
"Well, you're not having a virgin birth, that's for damn sure. However, my dad seems to have some use for whatever fruit comes from your womb, or whatever. All I know, is I was sent here, to this Godforsaken bar, which I can say, because I have forsaken it, repeatedly, to get you drunk and to, for lack of a better term, knock you up." Jesus slurred.
"So, you're telling me that you, Jesus, knocked me up because God told you to? Because my kid is destined to great things?" I asked, not believing a word.
"That sounds like what I said. It's obvious you don't believe, that okay, they never do. Just know that if you decided to have another abortion that you'll be going through all of this again. My dad allows for free will, but the bastard is still pretty fucking insistent when he wants to be. I suggest you just have the damn baby." Jesus motioned to the bartender for another drink.
"Goddamnit, fine. I'll have you're fucking god-child. But don't think it's because I want to, I'm just avoiding having to fuck you again."
"We both know that's a lie, but don't worry, I won't hold it against you later."
"Did you just wink at me? Did Jesus fucking Christ just make a Heaven joke and then wink at me?"
"See you later, Mary," Jesus said while getting up from the table.
"Okay then, Jesus," I said rather incredulously. "But wait, I have one question."
"And what is that?"
"Why me?"
"Why not you?"
"I'm not even remotely religious. I have sex with strangers. I'm not in the position to have a child. I never wanted a child. I don't even know if I believe in fucking God, though, I guess now I can't not believe, but still. I just don't get it."
"No one knows why God does the things he does. He isn't accountable to anyone, so he's allowed to get away with a bunch of crazy shit, and boy does he. That's just the way his is. The only thing you can do is hope he doesn't fuck up your shit. And if he does, then just go along with it. It'll be a lot easier for you if you just give in to what he wants."
"That's really fucking creepy. You know that, right? Some cosmic asshole is playing a sick and twisted game, and he experiences none of the fallout. He is literally playing with people's lives. What's going to happen if I say no?"
"You can't say no. I already told you. You'll just end up back here."
"That's not what I mean. What if i say no? What if I refuse to play by his rules? What happens if I take my life into my own hands?"
"Then the task will fall to someone else, and you will be dead."
"Some benevolent God this is."
"You know, it was you guys who gave him that moniker. I think he was set on Bad Ass Mother Fucker, or something else equally as asshole-ish."
"So I have to either have this child, or kill myself?"
"That's the situation, yeah."
"Goddamn Motherfucker, fine. I'll have the fucking kid."
"Thanks, Mary. He appreciates it, I do, too."
Then he left. He walked out of the bar, and no matter how many times I returned, he was never again in that dark corner. I'm still not quite sure if he actually Jesus, or just some drunk man, and I don't think I want to know. Sometimes the truth just can't be found in knowledge, and must be found in ambiguous shadows displayed on the wall of willful ignorance.