Best Left Forgotten

One line for no. Two lines for yes.

Wallflower stared at the little pink box on the bathroom counter. Cute curly font spelled out a brand name, flanked by lists of meaningless statistics she didn’t want to read. Sunset was just outside, standing in the doorway.

“I’ll be just out here,” Sunset said.

Nodding, Wallflower flipped the box over, reading the directions to ensure she knew how the test was done. Apparently the end of the stick reacted to the presence of a hormone in urine. The prospect had her a little more than uneasy, but the only alternative was a blood test. This really was the only choice she had.

“O-oh, yeah.” Sunset shrugged. “You’ll need some privacy.” She closed the door, and Wallflower was alone.

After reading over the directions one more time, Wallflower opened the box. Inside was a plastic stick, similar to a thermometer, and on its end was a plastic cap covering the tip she would need to hold in urine. Closer to the center was a little window where the result would pop up.

One line for no. Two lines for yes.

Wallflower stepped back from the counter, beads of sweat forming on her brow. She didn’t want to do this. She knew what the result would be—two pink lines ensuring the presence of a living thing lingering inside her. Putting the testing stick down, Wallflower paced around in the small space of the bathroom. A striped shower curtain hung opposite from the door, which was still closed and unlocked. The tiny counter around the sink had some cosmetic and hygienic items, with a few drawers beneath the counter-top on one side. When Wallflower looked up, she saw a medicine cabinet with a glass mirror affixed to the front.

She moved a little closer, observing her reflection. A fragile mess of a girl stared back at her, covered by matted tangles of hair and the deepest frown Wallflower had seen in her life. She stared into her tired brown eyes and hated them.

Her stomach twinged at her as she turned away. Sunset would surely tell her that her stomach pain was a sign that she needed to eat something, but Wallflower knew the truth. Her stomach hurt because of the parasite he’d implanted in her that night, a memento of her torment. She would no longer be able to lie to herself about it once she took that test.

One line for no. Two lines for yes.

Wallflower returned to the sink and picked up the testing stick. She held it in her hand, turning it over, and removed the plastic cap from the end. After a second, she dropped it on the counter again.

Sunset’s voice came from outside. “Everything alright in there?”

Wallflower answered by locking the door.

“Wallflower?”

She couldn’t do this. If she did, the test would be positive. The pain in her stomach proved it. Wallflower knew that as soon as she saw those two lines, she could no longer deny that another life was attached to her own, and she would lose even more agency over her body as it became the home of another being.

There was a knock on the door. “Hey, Wallflower?” Sunset was louder than before. “Talk to me, okay? What’s going on?”

As much as she hated it, Wallflower knew that seeing those lines would force the certainty upon her. At that point, it would mean she couldn’t give up. Awful as it was for her to admit, a child would give her something to live for.

She couldn't let that happen. This was her last chance to take her own life.

“Wallflower!” Sunset uselessly rattled the locked door. “Please, let me in! Wallflower!”

Wallflower held her breath, trying to ignore the noise of Sunset banging on the door. She looked around the room for anything she could use, tearing through the drawers and medicine cabinet. The things she would have expected to find in a bathroom—painkillers, detergent, razor blades—were nowhere to be seen. Wallflower cried out in frustration. Sunset must have taken them all away while she had been sleeping.

She couldn’t give up. She had to find something, something lethal, something she could use to stave off the inevitable proof of her pregnancy.

“P-please!” Sunset shouted as she shook the door handle again. Wallflower could hear the cracks in her voice. It seemed weirdly backwards for Sunset to be crying, and not her.

The incessant sound only made Wallflower more determined. She had to find something and use it quickly, but there was nothing here. Nothing poisonous, nothing sharp, nothing at all. As Sunset screamed desperately outside, Wallflower’s gaze turned to the mirror.

What a horrible person, making her only friend so distraught after everything Sunset had done for her. What a stupid, stupid girl, too frightened to say no, even when someone invaded her home and pulled her legs apart. What a disgusting freak, too sick and slutty to stop herself from shuddering and gasping with pleasure when he stained her mind, body and soul.

No, she thought, scowling. She still wasn’t telling herself the truth of it. She and Sunset kept using all these euphemisms, all these synonyms, all these elaborate ways to avoid acknowledging the disgusting reality.

He didn’t stain her. She didn’t shudder. She let him cum inside her, and he made her cum too. Just thinking that word made Wallflower want to vomit, but it was what happened—what she let happen—and calling it anything else would just be lying to herself. There was no hiding from the truth, and the truth was that she was going to see those two lines and know she was pregnant and it was all her fault.

Unless she died, right here, right now. Outside, Sunset’s screams and shouts had faded into whimpers, punctuated by an occasional useless shaking of the door handle. This was going to leave her devastated, but there was no other way.

Positioning herself in front of the medicine cabinet, Wallflower glared through the mirror at the stupid little whore who ruined her life. Then, with all her strength, she punched the glass.

It clattered on its hinges, but otherwise remained undamaged.

“Grrrraaahh—!” Wallflower screamed and pounded it again, but to no avail. Despite the intense pain in her hand from striking it, not a single shard of glass had fallen from its frame.

She should have known this would happen. She was weak, too weak to break the glass, too weak to do anything.

“Wallflower, I-I can help you! We can figure this out together—!” Sunset’s cries were deafened by the heavy impact of Wallflower’s head against the mirror.

As Wallflower steadied herself, her skull throbbing, she saw the tiniest of cracks forming on the mirror’s glass. Despite her pain, despite Sunset’s screams, Wallflower slammed her head into the mirror again. Again she stumbled back, and again she saw cracks on the glass, this time larger and stained red with the blood dripping from her forehead.

Sunset wasn’t screaming anymore. She was whimpering, pleading, crying. She sounded so hopeless, and it only made Wallflower hate the girl in the mirror even more for tormenting her friend. She crashed her head into her reflection again. A few splinters of glass began to fall, but none of them were big enough for Wallflower to kill herself with.

“Please...” Sunset’s voice was barely a whisper. “P-please don’t do this...”

Wallflower took a deep breath, doing her best to block out the pain and Sunset's crying. Her vision was blurred by blood as she lurched forward, smashing into the mirror again. The impact left her recoiling, and she stumbled back. As she did, wide shards of glass fell from the mirror’s shattered remains. She immediately grabbed one, its razor-sharp edges cutting into her palm.

“Wallflower... I-I’m sorry...”

Wallflower stopped.

“I d-don’t know what to do...” Sunset whimpered in the silence. “I don’t know what to do. I did my best, but I—I don’t know what to do...”

Wallflower stood motionless, frozen. Her hand stung from the glass cutting into it, and her head felt like it was going to explode. Hot blood ran down her face, tickling her skin. She looked into the shard of the mirror in her hand, and was surprised to see that she wasn’t crying. Maybe she was finally out of tears.

“W-Wallflower, I...” Sunset weakly sobbed. “I’m s-so, so sorry...”

Dazed, Wallflower leaned against the wall. As her eyes passed over the bathroom, she saw drops of blood all over the counter and sink. The shattered remains of the mirror were stuck to the dented face of the medicine cabinet, which was also bloodied after her repeated attacks on it. She looked to the test on the counter, then down at the shard of glass in her hand.

She could end it, right now. Just one deep cut into the side of her neck and everything would disappear. No more nightmares, no more memories, no more anything.

Wallflower dropped the shard and unlocked the door.

The second Sunset saw her, Wallflower was nearly knocked over by the ensuing hug. Sunset clung to her, her entire body trembling as she cried and cried and cried.

Wallflower let out a slow, shallow sigh, and then another. Her breaths became steadier as she at last returned the embrace. She closed her eyes, Sunset’s hands running over her back as she held Wallflower closer.

It was all so strange. Sunset was crying, and Wallflower was not. She should be crying after something like that, right?

When they finally parted, Sunset stared at Wallflower, her bright blue eyes brimming with tears. She brushed her hand through Wallflower’s bangs, leaving it stained red.

“I-I’m so sorry! I never should've closed the door, o-or ever let you be alone!” Sunset’s voice wavered as she hugged Wallflower again. “I should have known h-how you’d react if the test was positive!”

Wallflower blinked slowly. “I, uhm, never took it.”

“What?” Sunset looked at her, tears still streaming down her cheeks. “Then why...?”

Wallflower sighed, overcome with a dull calmness. “It’s okay. I’ll clean up your bathroom.”

“Absolutely not!” Sunset emphatically shook her head. “N-no! No way! You need to go to the hospital!”

“There’s a lot of blood,” Wallflower said. “I have to clean it before it stains stuff.”

Sunset kept protesting, but Wallflower didn’t really pay attention. She set about her task as slowly as possible. Every second she spent cleaning the bathroom was one she didn’t have to be taking the pregnancy test. Her eyes fell on the testing stick, still on the counter. It was face-down and the end used for testing had a good amount of blood on it.

All at once, Wallflower’s heart stopped. If there was blood on the end...

Trembling against the weight of her own dread, she reached for the testing stick. One line for no. Two lines for yes. Wallflower held her breath as she turned it over in her hand.

Tears filled her eyes when she saw the result—a single line clearly marked within.