First Kiss

Story by byzmunky

She kissed her.

She freaking kissed her.

Tears streamed down her cheeks as the picturesque brunette teenager continued her flight through her picturesque suburban neighborhood. The three blocks to her house seemed like three miles. She had to get home because, while most of her tears were borne from embarrassment, some of the moisture her tear glands were producing was the result of physical pain...

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Sarah Dowd thought of herself as a careful woman. Carelessness and irresponsibility got her into this predicament, and she'd be damned if she acted as senseless as she did just several months before. The slender, young, dark-haired lady plopped heavily into the driver's seat of the well-used, but affordably safe, domestic station wagon. Reaching up to fasten her seatbelt, she jumped and stopped to lovingly glance down at her hugely pregnant belly.

"I'm sorry, darlin', you're just getting too heavy. I promise I'll try to sit down more gently."

It was against her better judgment to travel this close to her baby's father's house, but this doctor was the closest with an ultrasound machine.

She continued the motions of putting the seatbelt on, only to gasp and and smile down at her gravid body. This kid's gonna be a soccer player...

Since Sarah Dowd considered herself careful, she placed the seatbelt straps where the NHTSA recommended they be: One across her pelvis under her belly, and the shoulder strap over the top of her womb, under her bosom. And, now that she was a careful woman, Sarah made doubly sure she could pull out onto the street from her parallel parking space in front of the doctor's office. And, since safety was paramount, she slammed on her brakes when a slender, young and scraggly man appeared at her window, banging the glass with his fist.

"Sarah! C'mon, take me back! I want to be with my son!"

"No," Sarah shouted, startled. She didn't roll down the window. "I gave you a chance, Jason, and you blew it. I don't want you paying for our child's food with your drug-money!"

"Honey, it's not like that," he pleaded. "Please!" So help her, she loved this man. Flawed though he was, his looks, wit, and intelligence left a deep impression on her heart. But he just wasn't safe. Not for her daughter. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat. This is what they all got for her carelessness. She should've listened to her parents.

"Jason, I'm leaving!" She was crying now.

"No!"

"I'm pulling out," she warned. "Move!" In her hysterics, she threw caution to the wind and pulled her car into the street. Jason jumped away. Speeding and sobbing, she checked her rear view mirror. Jason was in the street, looking forlornly after the large car. Blinking her tears from the rims of her eyelids and trying to clear her vision, she saw the glint of the homeless woman's shopping cart seconds before her front bumper made contact with the screaming hobo.

Sarah brought the car to a screeching halt, and could only wonder how far she was dragging the poor woman's body down the street when she did this. Leaping out of the car and joining the growing crowd, she knelt to the mangled and goggling woman lying prone in a pool of blood and shopping-cart junk.

"Ohmygod, ohmygod! I'm so sorry," she sobbed. "Somebody call 911!" The homeless woman's unfocused, grey eyes wandered around the sky and then meandered toward Sarah's face.

"You!"

"No! I'm so sorry!"

"You slut! Living in sin, bringing a bastard into the world!"

Were Sarah not hysterical at that moment, she would've wondered why the dying woman was attacking her character. She could only sob in response.

Then, to everyone's surprise, the hobo reached up, menacingly pawing at the weeping, pregnant mother. Sarah had the presence of mind to try to move from her dirty grasp, but gravid as she was, she only managed to back off a few inches. The homeless woman's hand, apparently going for somewhere above Sarah's sternum, landed open-palmed on her belly.

Sarah yelled through her sobs as the searing pain started near her protruding belly button.

"You're hurting me!"

The homeless woman's silver eyes met hers.

"Curse you, you whore" she spat with her rattling voice.

Sarah screamed.

The fire filled her placenta.

Her unborn daughter kicked violently.

Everything went black.

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Fiona tore the back door open and darted for the stairs. Her mom was washing something at the kitchen sink, her back toward the fleeing teenager.

"Fi, dinner's at.." she turned around, "...7 tonight." She caught a glimpse of her child's backpack as she fled the kitchen. Sarah turned back and smiled at her vegetables.

"Goofy kid."

Fiona thundered up the stairs, stormed into her room, and, slamming the door, threw her stuff on the bed.

The tight pain was getting worse.

It was happening.

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"Are you sure, doc," Sarah asked the pediatrician.

"She's strong as an ox, Ms. Dowd. Some girls just start menstruating earlier than others.

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