Shitless

   This is the 3rd time you've thrown up for the morning. In the pit of your stomach you have a bad feeling about this. But that just might be the Chinese food you had as a midnight snack last night. Never eat two day old leftovers especially if it's Chinese. That's it definitely. Food poisoning. "Food poisoning?" The little voice in your head snorts. You decide to ignore it. 
   You resolve you'll skip class today and head straight for the pharmacy. A quick shower and outfit change later and you're standing in front of the pharmacist, edgy and twitching because you believe the he's judging you, but really he could give less of shit, cause let's face it. A 65 year old pharmacist has pretty much seen it all. You purchase the pregnancy test. Actually you bought 10. So...tests.
    You're sitting now on the bathroom floor. It's cold and extremely wet. Your roommate never could quite master the act of moping up after her showers. Your shorts are soaked right through but you don't seem to notice. You throw up for the 10th time today. The test sits on the edge of the bathroom sink. What really is 2 minutes feels like an eternity. The alarm on your phone startles you and you jump. You're hardly ever afraid but today you're scared shitless. You slowly stand and make your way over to the sink. A thousand thoughts race through your mind and none of them make any sense. You close your eyes tightly and take a deep breath then slowly exhale. Here goes nothing. In fact, here goes everything. You take up the stick and stare at it.
    This is how your roommate finds you when she comes home from class; sitting on the toilet, staring at the stick. "Holy shit! Are you...?" She snatches it from your hand then lets out a sigh of relief. "Oh it's 1 line. You are so lucky." She places it back down on the sink. "Hey what's wrong with you? Shouldn't you be doing back flips or something right now? Hello?" She lets out an exasperated sigh and leaves the bathroom, shaking her head and mumbling something about white chicks are crazy.
    You sit there knowing she's right. You wonder if something really is wrong with you. Maybe you really are crazy. Because you can't quite seem to shake the little pang of disappointment in the pit of your stomach. You throw up for the 23rd time today.

Two Shots

      The doorbell was ringing. It took all my strength to make my way to the door, my lethargy being at its highest. The ringing continued until I was right before the door with my hand outstretched to turn the handle and then it stopped. I hesitated for a second before shrugging and opened it. And there it was. A simple cardboard box. One of those ones you see in offices where you assembled them yourself. White and completely void of any writing or print. I frowned not remembering having ordered anything in the past couple of weeks; even months. I bent over and lifted it then quickly let it fall. It was heavier than I had estimated.  I steadied myself and tried again grunting over the strain of the weight. I used my foot to open up the door a little more so I could get through and carried the heavy box to the dining room table. Setting it down I moved back to close the front door. The telephone rang 6 times before it went to voicemail. “Hey it’s me. Haven’t heard you in a while and I’m just checking in...so...yeah. Give me call when you can. Bye!” The television was still on and the laugh track on the obnoxious sitcom was loud in my ears. Same day. Same sequence. I was getting real tired of doing this every day. Only the box was different. Oh right, the box. I moved to the kitchen and found a knife to cut it open then went into the dining room. It was pretty big. Large enough to hold a gaming console or a designer bag none of which I had purchased. I frowned again and started to cut it open, folding the flaps back.

    Dark, bare, smooth, shiny, stiff, cold. It was a boy. He looked to be about 4 or 5 which would explain why he so easily fit inside. He was positioned how I imagine a fetus lies in its mother’s womb; with his knees tucked up to his chest and his hands curled under his chin. His eyes were closed and his lips slightly apart. He could’ve been asleep except for the fact that he wasn’t.  Skin so clean and unmarked that I almost thought he was a doll. No being could be this perfect. I stared into the box for minutes before I moved, arms shaking I lifted him. My eyes traced his little face tenderly and I could feel warmth originating from the soles of my feet, touching every corner of my body. Love. I already loved him. I walked with him through the dining room to the stairs which would take me to the Treasure Room. I climbed the stairs feeling every groove beneath my feet, skin tingling with anticipation. Good thing I always forgot to shut the door.

   I loved the Treasure Room because there were all sorts of…prizes. And I was sure he would love being in the Treasure Room too. Just like all the other good boys. I gently placed him on the fluffy carpet, face up and set next to him holding his hand. We spoke for hours. About his favorite toys and his best friends; which teacher gave him trouble at school and if he liked firemen; whether Superman or Batman would win in a battle; if he knew what real love was. His laugh clenched my heart and stirred something deep in my stomach. His skin was cool to the touch and I felt him tremble as my fingers got lower. I took everything off. First my shirt, then my pants, then my underwear. All the while his eyes were closed and he exhaled and inhaled quickly in pleasant anticipation. He was so lovely. We played for a long time. Doctor has always been one of my favorites. His on the other hand, was Mommy and Daddy. And then I carried him to the bed and put him down gently before climbing in myself. I turned him so he faced me but his eyes were still closed. I guess he was just enjoying the moment. I pulled him to me and wrapped my arms around him. He fit snugly into my arms as if he was designed especially for me and then I realized.

He was a gift.
For the first time in months I smiled.
God’s son had returned.