Beauty for Ashes

Beauty for Ashes

Bzzz bzzz I hear my phone vibrate for what feels like the hundredth time today. I pick it up, it’s my Mom so I go ahead and ignore it before looking at all of my notifications, I now have 50 missed calls and that doesn’t even include the texts. I scroll through the thread of messages from her until I find the first message she sent, it came through at 7:03. My parents and my boyfriend Uriah have been trying to get a hold of me relentlessly since then, probably around the time they realized I was gone. I don’t bother calling back though, I just turn off my phone and throw it in my bag. I look up at the completely dark sky. The clouds are looking heavy, about as heavy as I feel, like water could start overflowing at any moment. It’s typical weather for a September morning, maybe a little cooler because of the rain that is about to hit. It’s warmer than it was when I left my house at 5:00 this morning though, so I can’t complain. As soon as I got the results of the test, I immediately needed to be out of my house. It’s 9:30 now and I’m almost to the town that is the closest to our cozy little home in the country. The distance isn’t really that far, but it’s plenty for what I need at the moment. I don’t want to run away, I just need space from everyone and everything for now.

I have a small bag with a change of clothes and the money that I have from working. I just got my first job over the summer and right now, I’m grateful that I made the decision to get one. My bank account isn’t that great at the moment though. Working fast food is definitely not where the money is at. My parents insisted that since I was only going to be starting my Senior year of high school that it was as much money as I needed. As I continue to make my way into town I find a modest little hotel, the reason that I originally came to this place.

As I walk in, I absorb my surroundings. There’s a wooden desk with a computer sitting on it, a little bit beyond that point the hallway splits, which I’m guessing leads to the rooms. People have always told me that it this is a nice hotel, and now I can see that they were right. It looks a lot better on the inside than it does on the outside. The walls are a nice creamy color and the carpet is a deep, dark red. It’s a one story hotel and it is rather quiet.

I quickly make my way over to the front desk where I find a receptionist. She has a large smile that I’m guessing has to be fake. No one would be that enthusiastic to be at work on a Saturday morning. She has a cute brunette pixie cut hairstyle and is probably in her late twenties. She’s definitely not chubby but she’s thicker than a stick. Her body type is actually similar to mine. Well, how mine is for now at least, I approach her and don’t even try to put on the act of faking a smile.

“Hi, I need a room.” I say bluntly.

The receptionist flashes me an even bigger smile, “Sure hun, how long do you plan on staying?”

“Just one night,” I say shortly. She asks me for my card and ID and I hand them both over. Thankfully, I just turned 18 last week making this possible.

She swipes my card and hands it back to me along with my ID and a room key. I go down the hall which is the same colors as the lobby and keep walking until I find my room. I walk into the room and find that it is rather small, but perfectly fine considering it’s just me. There’s a small bathroom, a double sized bed, and an old TV set. The colors on the walls are actually not the same as the rest of the hotel. The walls are a beige color and the ceiling as well as all of the woodwork and carpet is white. It smells fresh too, it’s obvious that whoever owns this place takes pride in it.

I make my way over and sit on the bed running my fingers over the comforter feeling the silky smooth texture of it. I debate the idea of whether or not I should try to get some sleep. I’ve been going for about 3 weeks with getting little to no sleep so I know that sleep would probably be helpful. Anytime that I try to sleep though the nightmares just begin to haunt me as all of the memories that are etched into my brain start to emerge.

It was the Friday night after the first week of school and to celebrate finishing the first week of our Senior year, my friends and I decided to go watch a movie. We just saw the movie “Storks” which was childish for our age but enjoyable. We were all still laughing hysterically, quoting and talking about our favorite parts of the film. We all agreed that ice cream was a must, so we decided to go to the local ice cream shop to get something to eat. I told everyone that I would meet them there after I used the bathroom. I drove separate from everyone else because I came straight from hanging out with Uriah. We wanted to see each other because It was weird for us to not just be able to hang out whenever we wanted to during the week and were trying to adjust from our lazy summer schedule.

I went to the bathroom and was exiting the movie theater when it happened. A guy suddenly grabbed me and as soon as he did he covered my face. It was like a pillowcase and he pulled it tight around my neck where it wasn’t enough to suffocate me but enough to make it hard to breath. He assured me if I tried to yell or resist him in anyway he would have no issue strangling me.

He dragged me behind the theater where the dumpsters are and took me behind them setting me on the ground. I remember being surprised at how gently he set me down. It almost made me feel safe for a second, until he had me on the ground and started hovering over me. I felt the weight of his body as he laid down on top of me. His weight allowed me to not be able to move so he slid the pillow case up from over my neck and mouth, no longer having any need for it as a vice to strangle me. I felt his lips running over my lips first, then cheeks, and then my neck as he started to undress me. He started with taking off my shirt and unclasping my bra. I felt his hands and lips move over the upper part of my body assaulting me. He then went further, taking off my pants and underwear, and I proceeded to feel him consume my entire being.

Eventually I couldn’t feel him on me anymore and I was unsure whether he was still there or not. My face was still covered and it took me forever to get the courage to completely take off the pillowcase he had over my head. After much contemplating I removed it and saw that I was all alone. He hadn’t bothering to dress me, leaving me feel exposed in more ways than one. I quickly grabbed my clothes but as soon as I moved I realized my whole body just ached. I looked at my breasts and saw all sorts of bruises from where he relentlessly bit at my skin. I tried to move my legs but my hips hurt horribly. I began to slowly redress myself, hoping to find some security from the clothes being on my body because I now felt so broken. After I got myself completely clothed, I grabbed my phone and I saw three or four missed texts from my friends all wondering where I was. I sent a text that was long enough to tell them that I wouldn’t make it for ice cream, but I didn’t tell them why.

I got up and slowly worked my way over to the car. I got in and I just sat there. I felt completely hollow inside. I felt like someone literally just took everything away from me and left me totally destroyed. I grabbed my phone and sent my parents a text, I told them I was going to spend the night at a friends so they wouldn’t worry about me. As I started typing it out I started to cry which didn’t take long to turn into full on sobs. There was no way I could possibly go home and face them. So I just spent the night in my car alternating a very light sleep with crying.

By morning I realized I had to go home though. I couldn’t just live in my car forever. I felt okay enough to drive, even though I probably shouldn’t have due to how bad my body ached and how tired I was. I got home and my mom immediately greeted me.

“Hey sweetie, how was the movie?” she asked as she came over and hugged me.

I forced a laugh, “Um it was great Mom, kind of a little kids’ movie but still great.” I told her before I pushed her off of me, “Mom I want to take a nap, we stayed up super late at Delainey’s and I just want to sleep.”

“Okay sweetie sleep well,” my mom said kissing me on the forehead. She didn’t question it and allowed me to go to my room where I curled up in the covers and laid motionlessly, not knowing what to do now. Eventually, sobs began to overtake my body and that was the beginning of many sleepless nights.

The flashback cuts out and my body involuntarily shivers. I’ve been in denial that any of this has happened to me. Since I’ve kept the fact that I was r***d to myself, it has been kind of easy to ignore the fact that it happened in some ways. It was just easier to not tell anyone that it had happened. I felt completely disgusting and violated and I didn’t need everyone else viewing me that way. I figured if no one knew what happened and didn’t see me that way, it would help erase the fact that I feel that way, but so far it hasn’t. The denial is over now and I realize that I have to deal with the harsh reality of what happened along with the consequences.

I go ahead and grab the bag that I brought with me. I reach in and pull out a plastic baggie containing the one thing that flipped my entire world upside down this morning. The pregnancy test with the little tiny plus sign on it. I start to think of what this means to me, that I’m actually going to be having a baby. I’m barely an adult as it is. I just turned eighteen a week ago and I haven’t even finished high school yet. I’m only a month into my Senior year and now I have a child that I have to think of.

There are so many questions that race through my brain when it comes to school. I know exactly the date of conception was the near the end of August. That means that I will be having my baby at the end of May, when I’m supposed to be taking all of my finals to finish high school. Will I even be able to graduate? The other thought that comes to mind is that even if I am able to complete school and continue going as I progress through the pregnancy, there is the reality that babies aren’t cheap and I’m pretty much broke. Does finishing out high school really compare to making sure that I have enough money to support my baby? I’m going to have to support the child on my own. I have no idea who the father is, and even if I did, there is no way I would accept anything from him or let him be even remotely involved in the baby’s life. I understand that my parent’s will probably help, but I can only ask for and expect so much out of them.

That is when the realization hits that I am going to have to actually tell my parents what happened and the dread sets in immediately. I don’t know why I didn’t tell them, it was just easier not to. The thought of telling them that I lost my virginity behind a dumpster at a movie theater was humiliating. My parents are Christians and staying pure until marriage is something that they highly value, and I highly valued that too. I know this wasn’t my choice but I still feel like they’ll be disappointed in me. Lately I just don’t feel as close to God as I was. Right now, I just can’t understand why He let this happen. To lose something so important to me in such a perverse way was devastating. It makes me see myself completely differently and destroyed the image that I had of myself. I don’t want to destroy the image that my parents have of me. I know that they’ll be disappointed in me. Not necessarily because of what happened, but more because I didn’t come to them when it happened.

After I tell them I’ll have to let Uriah know too. I didn’t even tell him what happened and I make a point of telling him everything. In all honesty, I’m kind of surprised that Uriah hasn’t gotten out of me what has happened yet. He’s my confidant and he’s always the person that I go to when something happens. Whether it’s small or big he’s always the first to hear about it. He knows that I haven’t been normal lately; it would be impossible for him to not know. I have been really reserved with him and haven’t let him really touch me in anyway. Not anything bad, but the little things like allowing him to hug or kiss me have been extremely difficult for me to allow him to do lately, which for me is abnormal. Whenever he asks though, I just tell him I don’t feel the best and he lets it end at that. Probably because he thinks that if anything was seriously wrong he would know already.

Uriah is my Prince Charming. If my life was a fairytale story book, then he would definitely be my happily ever after. He’s a little bit older than me, two years to be exact. We had grown up together and went to the same school and church. We didn’t really interact much when we were younger because at the time the age gap was a big difference so we were just never around each other.

That all changed though when I was to the age where I could start attending youth group. We started hanging out then. Not exclusively or anything, but we had the same interests, so we had the same group of friends. But by the beginning of the summer that I would have been going into my freshman year I developed a crush on him. We started hanging out more on our own and talking outside of just youth or school activities. We started texting all the time, usually the only time we weren’t was if we were together in person or calling each other on the phone. Before I knew it, it was the week before school was starting and we were officially dating.

We’ve been together for three years now, and there wasn’t a single part of me that doubted that God made me for him and he felt the same way. He stayed around close to home for college so we wouldn’t have to do long distance. We knew that we were going to end up together for what feels like forever now. We’ve actually been talking about getting engaged since the beginning of my Junior year, but decided that it would be smart to wait until this summer after I had graduated.

As I think of that, I feel the whole entire thing slowly and surely crumbling apart. Uriah is a man of strong faith, a man who has kept himself pure, and deserves a Christian woman who is pure and I don’t think of myself that way anymore. Once he figures out that I’m carrying another man’s baby, there’s a major part of me that doubts that he’ll want to be with me anymore. Not to mention he’s still that strong Christian guy who needs a strong Christian woman, and I feel like I’m barely dangling by a thread when it comes to my faith.

I haven’t lost my faith in God completely yet. My heart just hurts so incredibly badly that it’s made it impossible to even talk to God lately though. I haven’t been able to listen to my worship music, even though it’s my favorite, or attend church. I’ve been avoiding my youth group and my church for the past two weeks. I went the Sunday right after the r**e and wasn’t able to bring myself to go back since.

The Sunday that I went I just felt so incredibly suffocated. The people at my church know me super well which is both a blessing and a curse. I walked into the sanctuary that Sunday morning with Uriah holding my hand. I wasn’t too happy that he was touching me but if I resisted I know he would want to know why so I let him. As soon as we walked in my youth pastor and his wife greeted us, they were handing out the bulletins for the week.

“Hey guys, how’s it going?” my youth pastor Andrew asked us.

I laughed nervously, “Uh it’s going,” I said shortly.

“Ava, how was your first week of school? Are you loving the fact that you’re finally a Senior?” his wife Amelia asked.

“It’s okay,” I tell them.

“Are you okay Ava? You seem a little out of it.” Andrew told me.

“Just peachy,” I say hiding a little bit behind Uriah wishing they would stop asking me questions. Uriah took the hint and started to dominate the conversation. They talked for awhile as I stood there not really paying attention. I felt a squeeze on my hand and jumped, realizing it was just Uriah trying to bring me back to the conversation.

“Ava, are you sure you’re okay?” Amelia asked clearly not buying it. “It’s not like you to completely zone out like that.”

“I’m fine.” I say this time a little more sharply. Amelia looked at me concerned and gave me a hug.

“I’m always just a call or text away if you need anything.” She reminded me as she held me. I pulled away quick and forced a smile.

“Thanks Amelia, I appreciate that.” I said before tugging on Uriah’s hand leading us out of the conversation.

I didn’t go back after that. I knew that Andrew and Amelia weren’t the only ones that would be able to tell that I wasn’t acting normal. Everyone in my church is so open too that they wouldn’t hesitate to ask me what was wrong. I didn’t want to discuss the r**e so to me not going seemed like the most logical explanation. I just tell my parents that either I’m sleep deprived and need to catch up, or that I have too much homework that needs to be done to go. They haven’t been pleased with me for missing, but they allow it anyways.

I begin to cry hard as I sit there thinking that this pregnancy could really mess everything up for me, and all the plans that I had for my life. That my whole entire life as I know it, could simply fall apart and be completely unrecognizable because of it. I realize there is no way out of it though, unless I decided to have an abortion. That is something that I would never even consider doing though. The pregnancy might not be ideal for me, but taking the life of the little one inside of me wouldn’t be ideal for it either. I can’t condemn an innocent tiny baby to death because of one man’s wicked mistake. As I sit there just bawling, I mutter a tiny prayer, and even though it might be one of the smallest ones I’ve ever prayed, it was a monumental step for someone who hasn’t been able to pray for three weeks. I just continue to sob and ask God why. Why did He do this? What is His plan in all of this?

As I sit there crying, asking why, I actually hear a soft voice whisper to me. A voice so full of love and promise. A voice that I haven’t heard from in what feels like an eternity.Through this blessing God lays a Bible verse on my heart. I recognize it as Jeremiah 29:11, “’For I know the plans that I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘Plans to prosper you and not to harm you. Plans to give you a hope and a future.” As I hear this being laid on my heart a familiar peace begins to overtake me and captivate me. I still know that He exists and that He created me and loves me. There’s even a small part of me that knows that in the end, even this tragedy will end up working out and contributing to the perfect plan that He has for me, that God will be able to turn this around for His good in the way that only He can do.

My sobs slowly start to subside as I start to wonder what I should do next, I came here because I needed to process what happened, but what is there really to process on my own? I contemplate in my head whether or not this is something that would be worth continuing to put off dealing with for a little bit. I could keep it from my parents for awhile. They would never have a reason to suspect that I was pregnant, they know Uriah and I would never do anything that would result in us now having a child.

When I think about keeping it from them though, I do feel rather guilty. The r**e was one thing, it was something that did not affect them, it was something that only mattered to me. A child is different, it will be their grandchild and we will probably be living with them as long as they are willing. If not, I have no idea where we will go and that is a whole different issue that would need to be dealt with.

I decide that putting off telling them probably wouldn’t be smart. I already know that I’m pregnant and there’s nothing that I can do about it by myself. I can sit here and mope and keep everything that happened to myself and ruminate about it, but it won’t really help anything. I did that when it came to the initial r**e and now it’s beginning to add up. I could afford to be at least a little bit in denial about the r**e, but a pregnancy? This is completely different and there is no way that I can just avoid it.

Before I know it things will be changing. My belly won’t be nice and small like I have kept it over the years. It will start to swell as the baby gets bigger and bigger. My clothes won’t fit, there could be swollen ankles, hormone-crazed cravings, morning sickness, and a lack of energy. I’ve spent a lot of time with kids, I come from a large family and have many baby cousins who I love showering with affection and love. I have never had a lot of direct exposure to babies though or the entire process of a pregnancy. I’m an only child so I never was exposed to my mom being pregnant or helping out with any younger siblings or anything.

After actually taking time to process everything, I realize that heading home right now and actually talking to my parents would be the most logical way of handling this and the most mature. They’re going to have to be my main support system through this because without them I’m going to be left with absolutely nothing. I’m hopeful that I’ll have Uriah around to help too but there is the thought in the back of my mind that he might no longer want me. Even if he does stay though, I feel like burdening him with this is way too much to expect out of an unmarried twenty-year-old.

I head into the bathroom and I decide to take a shower to attempt to get cleaned up before I go home, even though no matter times I shower my body still feels disgusting afterwards. I let the hot water run over my body. I make it quick though, realizing the quicker I go the less time I will have to lose the nerve to tell my parents what happened. I finish and I go ahead and dress myself in the fresh outfit that I had in my bag. I pull the small t-shirt and skinny jeans over my body and then I look in the mirror. They fit me perfectly now, I wonder how long it will take before they won’t fit me anymore.

I go and pick up my old clothes and throw them in my bag before grabbing the pregnancy test off the bed, putting it at the top of my bag. I then grab my phone off the bed and begin a quick Google search, trying to find a taxi that can run me back to my house. Walking here worked, I had so much adrenaline running through my body that the walk was effortless and easy to make but my body now aches with fatigue and I couldn’t even imagine walking all the way back to my house.

I make my way to the front desk and find the receptionist and tell her that I’m ready to check out and give her my room key before I walk and find a yellow cab waiting for me. The car ride home seems to take forever and the whole time I feel the anxiety start to build up in my body. The closer and closer we get the more anxious I get. I get home and see that both of my parents’ cars are parked. They’re probably home and worrying about where their daughter is and why she isn’t bothering to answer her phone.

I study my house, it’s a beautiful house; a pure white color with blue shutters. We have a big picture-perfect yard, one that would be nice for a little kid to grow up and play in. We actually still have the swing set in place that I used when I was a little kid and I feel myself allow the slightest of smiles. I always dreamed that one day my kids would play out here.

For now, I push that thought out of my head and I take a deep breath and walk in the door shutting it behind me silently so no one will realize that I am home just yet. I walk down the entry way where it immediately opens up into our living room. To my surprise everyone is right there: my parents and Uriah all sitting in the living room anxiously awaiting my arrival. I see relief flood my mother’s face as tears start to run down her cheeks. My dad and Uriah start asking me where I have been and why I wasn’t answering my phone as my mom makes her way over to me, hugging me. I hold her close, allowing her to help me feel safe and secure even if for only a moment until I can no longer ignore the questions. Even then I only answer the questions with a simple two words that doesn’t even really give an answer to what is being asked. But the only thing that I can get out is,

“I’m pregnant.” My mom lets go off me in shock.

“You’re what?” she asks me in disbelief.

“I’m pregnant,” I repeat. I look at everyone gaging their responses. My mom looks just surprised and my dad looks like he’s about to kill Uriah who is just standing there confused. “C’mon let’s go to the living room, I owe you guys all an explanation.”

We go into the living room and I sit on the two couches that we have setting so they form an L like shape. Uriah sits on one couch with me and my parents sit on the other one. Then I go ahead and I tell them everything that happened. I shared what happened that Friday night after the movies, keeping the gruesome details to a minimal though, I tell them why I haven’t been acting normal, and I explain that this morning I took the pregnancy test and pull it out of my bag showing them that it came back positive. As I tell them all of this I’m surprisingly calm but I can’t help the tears that start streaming down my face. I feel so relieved that they know it all even though telling them everything reopens all of the wounds.

After I tell them everything my mom just is sitting on the couch sobbing. As she sobs my dad holds her lovingly and I watch the silent tears flow down his face. I look over to Uriah who pulls me into him and just kisses my forehead holding me securely against him. It doesn’t feel as intrusive as it did before I told them all what happened. His grasp feels more loving now.

The sorrow is thick in the room. Right now, all that they can see is the pain of what has happened. Although my parents have yet to speak, I can tell by their reaction that they still love me and I know that Uriah does too. I know that they’re all going to be supportive and that we’ll get through this together. As Uriah holds me I rejoice in the fact that deep in my heart I know that eventually, with the help of my wonderful family we will see the beauty from these ashes.