My secret is the reason I must stay invisible.

For years now, I was told I was to never be a mother, to conceive, or to ever know the joys of procreation.

A mysterious infection or some sort of inflammation of the ovulary system has left me barren every since I reached my puberty years. I bleed more than normal, or what was considered normal, becoming the indication of my infertility. To this day its cause is still unnamed. Even with constant medication and regular check ups, with it now non existent, it is still unknown. Of course, I am pleased beyond words, but that doesn’t satisfy my curiosity.

The doctors were very curious themselves and insisted I let them continue the poking and prodding at my mystique, with the hopes it would benefit for future research into woman fertility. They think I have a cure for the barren. I insist I have no secret or miracle cure of any kind, and insist they leave me be.

Reason or no, I know that one day I will experience the happiness of motherhood.

I will have the family I never had.

Zack and I left the café Amber a flaming mess, finishing our laughing session with a well deserved food fight. Covered head to toe with salad dressing, mash potato and ketchup, we ran out of the café paying double to cover the costs of both food and cleaning; Zack insisting on paying the bill, which was fair enough because he was the one who started it.

A quick dive in the university fountain, three towels, two bottles of body spray, and a fresh change of clothes later, we were ready to attend our last lectures for the day, both of which we were absent of each other. None of which really captured my interest or attention as much as philosophy did. Maybe it was because there were so many faults with it; it seems that what is most fault intrigues us more so than what is correct.

By 3:30 pm, our day at university had come at another end in its continuous cycle. I was free for another day from the clenching grasp of conforming education. I met with many of my common companions and ‘playmates’ in the institute, consisting of Bernice, the fiery red headed female spaz, and Jonathan the Indian- ink haired computer geek evenly merged with a party crazed maniac. Fellow students that I have known in my studies, but not as close a friend to my nerves as Zachary Moore; with this in mind, I found it necessary to keep the matter of my medical condition between Zack and myself. I kept it cloaked; hidden from view. Instead creating casual conversation and throwing several of my sarcastic and humorous comments that I had become renowned for.

With several hours to consume at our leisure, Zack, Bernice, and Jonathan had gathered the brilliant idea to make the hours a bit more entertaining with the soaking of our brains into the alcoholic bliss at the Illicit Club. At first I declined, telling Zack that discovering my newly recovered motherhood was no reason to celebrate by drowning in the piss. In the end, he pressured me into going, claiming that alcohol can soothe the mind, and might also cool down the recent and rather overwhelming events conjuring within my life.

I had to admit, I needed a drink.

Weather for celebratory reasons, or for sheer temptation.

“No. fucking. Way.” Bernice dragged out as Zack replayed today’s events, her eyebrows mashed together in disbelief.

6:45pm. it was a bit early to be at a club for my taste, reason mainly being that they do not serve alcoholic drinks until an hour from now. But this didn’t halt the stories from today being carelessly shared around the group, starting with a gut wrenching tale of ‘Cohen dragon breath’, which Zack couldn’t seem to resist to throw back in my face, gaining rather astonished and almost not surprised looks from the other members.

“You got burned by the dragon did you? Pssh, did it hurt or something, Lee?” Jonathan didn’t hesitate to comment, his lips dripping acid.

“Bite your tongue.” I smirked, my fingers whirling the straw in the glass of my diet coke.

“But damn, Kay lee!” Bernice continued, still sounding baffled, “I thought you had Cohen wrapped around your pinkie? Why couldn’t you just, you know, drop it?”

“Ah Bernie, you know her,” Zack inserted,”When Lee hears the Monstrous Dr. Dragon starting to dribble shit from his dentures, you would expect her to bring out the big guns.” He finished, shaping both hands into pistols and pouting his lips menacingly, but to no avail. His reward: A carefully aimed punch to the shoulder delivered by yours truly, he winced at his tender flesh.

No mercy.

“Hah, he seems to have gained immunity to your poison. he’s a lucky bastard, and in a way, I wouldn’t mind what he’s smoking.” Jonathan said bluntly.

Zack was clicking his tongue in response “Its comments like that that make me wonder why I get all of Kay Lee’s violent punishment.”

Jonathan just waved it off “But you two have a special relationship where its goes like clockwork. It’s expected.”

Zack just blinked, a little offended and confused “You’re making it sound as if I get a chance at getting revenge on Lee. Now that’s a damn lie, and you know it, dipshit”

I and Bernice couldn’t resist chuckling away at the two male’s performances, giving them a congratulatory applause, behaving like the audience we were.

An hour passed, and Zack had bought a round of spirits for all of us, by his expense of course. By my request, he purchased me a Heineken, even though I had every reason to, in normal terms ‘go nuts’, but my common sense had kicked and encouraged me to consume lightly.

But my other unruly side of me said ‘fuck it’.

The End

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