Chapter 20

Okay, so firstly this will be a long chapter. Hope you like :)
Secondly, this a picture of Quinn's mother in case you wanted to know what she looked like.
And thirdly, this chapter will contain a religious view on homophobia. Apologise in advance for upsetting anyone. This was a hard chapter to write.

To stay being left in charge made me feel under pressure, would be an understatement. I've literally been standing around, biting away what little nails I had for the last ten minutes. I know it's a disgusting habit, but since I was a child, biting away at my nails has often been a comfort. For every solo I had in our bible studies when singing all about the man upstairs, for every family friend who came over, for every occasion mother wanted me at my finest; my nails have always been there to take my mind off of things.

I hope my child never has to feel this way.

"Do you wants some rations, Quinn?" Monty offers from a distance, probably mistaking me biting my nails for hunger.

But kindly, I accept.

Maybe this will take my mind off of things.

"Sure, why not."

I head over and take a small bag before eating away.

Just eat your feelings, Quinn.

"I mean, what else have I really got to do."

For the record, this question was rhetorical. Did you get that? My question was rhetorical, meaning that I did not want anyone's input on it. Nobody was supposed to say anything.

Too bad somebody did.

"Well, you can't get pregnant again," I hear someone mutter close by.

Sniggering follows.

I see red. Like, nothing else, but red.

I twist my head and turn to face the useless nobody who made that comment.

"I'm sorry, did you want to say something?"

If you could see my face right now, you'd see a boiling rage ready to explode. No word of a lie. I am literally a train with smoke just firing out from the ears.

"I asked you a question. Did you want to say something?" I repeat, fury spilling out of me like lava.

"No, nothing. Just having a laugh with the mates. You carry on."

Who does this person think he is? Seriously, who is he?

"Oh, you think you're so clever, don't you?"

"Smarter than you, that's for sure."

In this moment, I can feel the eyes of everyone on us.

"You think you're more smart than I am?"

I'm about to kill him.

"I don't need to think. I know I am. You couldn't keep your legs closed. And I haven't got a single person pregnant. So yeah, I do think I am smarter than you. The proof is there."

I'm about to kill him, and nobody will stop me.

"You know what..."

But I don't continue my sentence. Instead, I throw fist after fist at his face. Knocking him down by kneeing him in the crotch before continuing to pound his face over and over, blood escaping from every spot it can.

"Quinn! Quinn!" I hear Jasper and Monty shout. Both trying to pull me off of him.

Sorry, boys. But I'm unstoppable now.

One punch.

And another punch.

And another punch.

And another.

And another.

Over and over. The same thing happens each time.

"Quinn!" I hear Kai call.

And with the help of Kai, Jasper, Monty, and a couple of the others, I'm off of the twat, and onto the ground.

I look down at my hands and see all the blood before looking back at the mess I made.

I could've killed him.

I, Quinzel Rae Brady, almost killed a boy.

I look up at the faces. Horror and fear fill every single one of them.

I'm a monster.

And then, the only logical thing for me to do comes to mind: run.

I get to my feet and run in the opposite direction. Away from camp, and away from the mess I just made.

I can hear them calling. I even hear a couple of them running, but at this point, it seems useless. I'm going to keep going. I have to. I can't return. Not after the mess I just made. I'm such a hypocrite. Making Bellamy feel like shit for doing exactly what I just did. I can't even believe it myself. I'm not myself. I'm not human. I'm just- not me.

I find myself at a river and I drop to the floor to look at my reflection.

Monster.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" I cry out, hitting the ground in frustration.

"That's exactly what I was going to ask."

I go dead silent when I hear this voice. The voice of cruelty and tears. The voice of a person I thought I had gotten rid of a long time ago. The voice of my past.

I look up and see the dark hair and dark eyes. It's her. But how?

"Mother..."

I can't even form a real sentence right now. All I can think is how is she here?

"Hello, daughter... or should I say slut!"

In all my life, she's never cursed. Ever. This can't be real.

"What's the matter? Can't open your mouth the way you opened your legs for that boy?"

I can't- I don't know what to do.

"I mean, really? You couldn't have aimed a little higher than Bellamy Blake. Do you not remember why his mother got floated?"

I feel like a small child again. No words can be thrown back at her.

"Well, come on. Speak! You did plenty of that to protect that lover of yours."

Rory. Why mention her?

"Could you have been any more disgraceful? Getting pregnant by Bellamy Blake and then having a lesbian lover! Disgusting! What would your father have said?"

"This isn't real," I say, gaining some speech back. "You can't be real."

"Oh, I'm real, all right. Real enough to tell you the truth at least!"

She's so aggressive. I've never seen her this way before. Never.

"You're not real. I must be dreaming or something."

"No, idiot! You're not dreaming. That blood on your hands in real! The feeling you've got is real! Everything is real!"

The rations! I must be stoned or something.

"You're not real."

"I am, sweetheart. And I've come to tell you the truth.

"Go away. Go away. Go away." I'm chanting, in the hopes this can get rid of her.

"When will you finally stop screwing everything up, Quinzel?"

Her circling around my body tries to interfere with my focus, but I don't let it.

"You're not real. You're just in my head."

"You can't hide from the truth, sweetheart. And the minute you realise that, you'll finally except the truth."

I'm blanking her out. I will not listen.

"If you won't listen to me, then maybe you'll listen..."

"To me."

I stop. Mother's voice is gone, but that's not why I stop. I stop because of that voice. The sweet and pure voice I had longed to hear for so long.

I look up and to see her. The most beautiful women I've ever seen.

"Rory?" I can't hide my disbelief.

How is the love of my life standing here right now?

"Rory, I- I can't believe you're here."

She crouches down and brushes a blonde lock of hair out of my face.

"Hello, Quinn."

I waste not a second more before I lean in and kiss her. So passionate even the trees are jealous. I've missed her lips. I've missed every part of her.

She breaks away, for the first time in our relationship, and looks me seriously in the eyes.

"I know what happened, Quinn."

Such a vague thing to say. Rory was never vague. Always straightforward and clear.

"What do you mean?"

She looks down at the blood drenched on my hands.

Tears form in my eyes. She knows. Rory knows. The one person in the entire world I did not want to see me like this.

"Rory, I-"

"It's okay, Quinn," she reassures me. "You have no choice. I understand."

She doesn't hate me?

"I understand you did what you had to... just like you had to make sure I got floated for helping you with a problem you created in the first place."

Her voice is dark and cruel. This isn't the Rory I know and love. This can't be.

"You killed me, Quinn!"

I'm broken. Crying hysterically as each word leaves her mouth.

"Rory, I'm so sorry!" I crawl towards her as she stands and slowly backs away.

"Please! Please forgive me!" I can't stop the tears. They just keep coming.

"How can I forgive you? You're the reason I am dead!"

"No, no. Rory, please. I- I love you!"

"You love me?" I can hear the disgust in her voice. "You don't love me! You killed me!"

My heart is shattering into a millions different pieces. I literally feel like I'm dying.

"Please, Rory. Tell me! Tell me what I can do!" I'm so desperate for her to forgive me. Anybody would say it's pathetic. But to me, I just can't handle the love of my life hating me.

"You know what? There is something you can do for me."

I practically fall over, desperate to hear what she has to say.

"Yes?"

"You can drop dead."

Cold. Her voice is cold. This can't be her.

"But- but what about the baby?" I ask, rubbing my stomach slightly. "What about your baby?"

"That baby would be better off without you."

"But if I die... he'll die."

She loves this baby. Why would she want that?

"Better death than have him live with a bunch of criminals."

Panic attacks every organ in my body.

"Please, Rory. No. I can't kill him! I can't kill our son!"

I don't want to lose him. I can't lose him, too.

"It'll be a mercy, my love." Her voice is sick. "Trust me, it'll be better this way."

Looking down at my swollen stomach, I think about the life I've carried all these months. Is she right? Would he be better off without me? Would it be better if he died to end any future suffering?

I never thought it'd come to this. But maybe this is the only way.

"But Rory, how? How do I do this? I have no weapon."

I look to her for guidance, but instead I see John.

"John-"

"You don't need a weapon. You've got water behind you."

How is he here? He was banished. Wasn't he?

"Just one dip and you'll be good as gone."

Turning, I look at the river. Not a way I'd want to go, but maybe it won't be that bad.

"I want, Rory. Where's Rory?"

I can't do this without her.

"I'm here, Quinn," she tells me softly. "Just one more step and you can be with me again."

"But what about our son? What will he say?"

"I'll be thankful, mom."

Mom? Who's mom? Who's calling me, mom?

A young male's hand takes mine in his, and I look up, stunned.

"Are you-"

"I'm your son, yes."

He looks just like Bellamy. Dark brown eyes and dark brown hair. Slightly curled here and there. He's here. That's our son.

"You're so grown up, and uh-"

I can't form words. The idea that I am talking to my son is just crazy.

"I'm glad to see you, too, mom."

He even looks a bit like Rory. If she had raised him, I know I wouldn't suspect a thing.

"Are- are you okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

I suddenly begin to inspect my belly. Even though he looks healthy, I feel like it's my job to check thoroughly.

"I'm fine, mom. Just waiting for you to make the jump."

I start to shake my head.

"No. No. No," I repeat. "No, I'm not going to kill you. Not now, not ever. You're my son. My love."

"It'll be better this way, mom. Neither one of us will be suffering."

"No- no I can't. I love you. I can't."

"You can. I know you can. Please, you won't be hurting me. I'll have you. You'll be giving me a mercy."

The more he talks, the more convinced I am. Rory wants me to, my son wants me to, so why not? Nobody's asking me to stay. And with the mess I left behind me, I can't go back. What will everyone think?

I put one foot in and then the other.

I'm doing this for him. I'm doing this for everyone.

"That's it, mom. That's it."

I push myself off and I'm now in.

"Take this rock. It'll hold you down."

Kid, I don't need no rock with this belly.

I take one last glance at my beautiful son. Proud of what Bellamy and I had created.

"Did we ever give you a name?" I ask, but I don't get an answer.

Not because of my weight dragging me down, though that be my first guess. And not because I was pushed under. My face hits the water because of something bellow begins to drag me down...