Nestled In Macabre

• Charlotte Ashford, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2019

Nestled in the fabric-like sky were two flats on the top floor of a decrepit building. Through one window, a young woman was in bed. She ignored her toddler’s screams as she applied more mascara. Through a second window, a young boy lay dead in his bathtub, blonde hair steeped in blood.
Nestled in painful silence, a teenage girl sat broken. Tears streamed down her face. She handed him her positive pregnancy test. She couldn’t endure looking at him, but she thought he would be supportive. Her mascara ran as crisp blood seeped from her lip.
Nestled in painful silence, a young boy refused to accept it. He was stupid to let this happen. But he then screamed at her as though it was all her fault. The door slammed shut behind him.
Nestled in the leather couch at the abortion clinic, the teenage girl was numb. She would have no future with the thing, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Tears clung to her cheeks. She smiled as a cup of water was offered to her. It was the most support she had received in weeks. Her mascara ran as she closed the door on her way out.
Nested in a leather couch at his parent’s house, the young boy tried to drown his sorrows in cheap spirits. Regret permeated through him. He didn’t deserve a peaceful future after what he did to her.
Nestled in aching helplessness, a teenage girl held her toddler. The thing screamed all night. Tears pooled in her eyes. She should love it; it wasn’t like it’s betraying father would. Her mascara ran.
Nestled in aching helplessness, a young boy felt hollow. His own remorse had coaxed him to believe that this was what he deserved. Tears pooled in his eyes. He ran a bath.
Nestled in the fabric-like sky were two flats on the top floor of a decrepit building. Through one window, a young woman was in bed. She ignored her toddler’s screams as she applied more mascara. Through a second window, a young boy lay dead in his bathtub, blonde hair steeped in blood.
Nestled in dead air, penitence melted a teenage girl. She should have checked in on him. But in her rage, his well-being was the last thing on her mind.