The bus looked pretty crowded when I got on. I was so afraid that I would have to share a seat with someone, but I was lucky. As I lurched down the aisle clutching the backs of the seats, I saw an empty one, way in the back. I counted the rows as I went, just in case I had to tell the paramedics where I was if I had to call 911. The right hand seat in row 10 was empty, and it was right across from the bathroom. Talk about luck!
I settled myself lengthwise on the seat with my back against the window, and my feet on the seat, drawn up under my rainbow knitted poncho. It had taken me months to make it, and I just loved it, it was so comfortable. I hoped I'd be able take a little nap. No one else could sit here because I took up the whole seat. I didn't want anyone near me if my water broke, and I went into labour.
I liked the subtle back and forth movement of the bus. Almost like a rocking chair, or a cradle. It wouldn't be long now before I'd need a cradle. I looked around me curiously as I held my bulky baby belly under the poncho. The little one was kicking, but not too hard. I could still sleep.
I wondered what the driver would have done if she knew I was nine, (actually ten, if you count forty weeks) pregnant. I was already three days overdue. I knew that planes wouldn't let pregnant women board, I didn't know about buses.
I sat on the right with the adults, trying to fit in. I was hoping that no one would notice how young I was . I didn't want to hear any more lectures about teenage pregnancies. I was going to be eighteen in another two months, and then I would legally be an adult, and I could decide myself what to do with my baby.
I hopped on the first long distance bus that was boarding immediately. I knew that the minute my precious little angel was born, the priest and my mother were going to give him, or her, to an adoption agency. I was under eighteen and my mother was my legal guardian. I had no say in the matter, so I decided to get as far away as possible by the time I had the baby.
I might go home after awhile, after I'm eighteen. Then they can't take my baby away from me. I just hope we reach our destination before I go into labour.
There was a girl in the row behind me. She looked like one of those Goth kids by the way she was dressed, but I don't think she was truly Goth. She caught me looking at her, and her eyes dropped to my poncho, and then she smiled. I don't know if she just liked its' colours or what, but the smile was open and friendly, beautiful. Not Goth at all.