𝙻𝙾𝚂𝚃 𝙲𝙰𝚄𝚂𝙴⠀⠀⠀⠀⁰
𝗩𝗢𝗟𝗨𝗠𝗘 𝗜. From Cradle to Grave

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄
▏𝗦𝟬𝟭𝗘𝟬𝟭︰𝗦𝗽𝗶𝗿𝗶𝘁 𝗪𝗲𝗲𝗸▕

❛ 'CAUSE, YOU KNOW, YOU COULD
JUST BURN HER THINGS. ❜

"YOU SHOULD TALK TO SOMEONE, IMOGEN."

Davie Adam's words repeatedly echo in her daughter's head. You should talk to someone, Imogen. I think you could benefit from talking to someone in a similar position.

Imogen cleared her throat, a mix of nerves and determination coursing through her. She smoothed out her outfit with trembling hands, feeling her breath catch as her fingers brushed over the small but growing bump beneath her clothing. "I can do this," she whispered to herself, her mantra echoing in her mind. "I can do this."

Imogen's gaze remained fixed on the sign hanging above the door, the words 'PENNSYLVANIA SUPPORT GROUP CENTER' etched into her brain.

Imogen continued to wrestle with her mixed feelings about the center. Despite its promising location and presumably high ratings, it failed to bring the relief she so desperately needed.

In fact, being there seemed to only intensify the tightness in her chest, a sensation that had plagued her for the past three months. Everything felt like it was moving at a pace she couldn't keep up with.

As panic began to creep in, she felt herself swaying on her feet, her breaths quickening. Her surroundings blurred, and she turned around, her instincts urging her to leave. However, she only managed to take a few steps before colliding with another person, startling both herself and the stranger she had bumped into.

"Ow!" A soft cry escaped from the stranger Imogen had collided with, snapping her out of her momentary daze.

She forced her vision to clear, blinking rapidly until everything came into focus. Imogen's gasp of surprise echoed through the air before she could catch herself.

Before her stood a girl who didn't appear much older than Imogen herself, rubbing her prominent, round stomach. Imogen found herself staring at the bump for an extended moment until the sound of a cough drew her attention upward. "My eyes are up here."

The girl's words brought a flush of embarrassment to Imogen's cheeks as she quickly averted her gaze. "I'm so sorry," she stammered, her face reddening. "I didn't mean to... I mean, it was an accident." She felt mortified by her lack of tact and tried to regain her composure.

Imogen's initial embarrassment began to subside as she looked up and took in the girl's appearance. Her breath caught in her throat, not just because of the accidental collision but because of the girl before her.

The stranger had dark brown shoulder-length hair, neatly tied back with a white bandana. Her facial features suggested a Hispanic heritage, and Imogen couldn't help but admire her striking appearance.

Though only a few inches shorter than Imogen, the girl held a certain presence that made Imogen feel like she was the short one. The girl smiled, her expression somewhat distant, as she gestured towards the door behind Imogen.

"Are you lost?" she asked, her voice warm and inviting. "There are three meetings happening today. Social Skills was two hours ago, Girls Empowerment wrapped up, like, fifteen minutes ago, and Teen Parent Support starts in," The girl paused momentarily, reaching into her back pocket to retrieve her phone. She stared at it for a brief moment before continuing, "thirteen minutes." Her helpfulness and practical demeanor put Imogen at ease, and she began to feel more welcome in this unfamiliar place.

Imogen initially hesitated, but the persistent voice within her urged her to speak. The words tumbled out of her mouth louder than she intended, causing the girl's eyes to widen. "I'm sorry," she blurted out, her voice much too loud in the quiet surroundings.

Realizing her own volume, Imogen quickly lowered it and let out a forced chuckle. "Sorry. I just... When I bumped into you, you said 'ow.'"

The girl's brow furrowed for a moment, but she soon waved off Imogen's apology. "It's cool," she assured her with a friendly smile. "Mateo just doesn't like fast movements, and he already has a crazy amount of strength." She affectionately motioned to her stomach, and Imogen couldn't help but feel a warmth in her chest at the tender, love-filled words that had escaped the girl's lips.

"Anyway, I'm Adela," the girl introduced herself, extending her hand while keeping one hand affectionately on her stomach.

A genuine smile crept onto Imogen's face as she reached out to shake Adela's hand. "I'm Imogen."

Dimples appeared on Adela's cheeks as she smiled widely, her face lighting up with warmth. "Nice to meet you, Imogen." Adela glanced back at the center's front door before returning her gaze to Imogen. "So, are you going in, or are you waiting for someone?"

With newfound clarity and resolve, Imogen nodded. "I'm going in for the Teen Parents group."

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ᵗʰʳᵉᵉ ᵐᵒⁿᵗʰˢ ˡᵃᵗᵉʳ

CLINKS OF FORKS HITTING PLATES SOUND THROUGH THE ADAMS' KITCHEN. Mateo scrunches his face up at the noise and hits his face with his pudgy, balled-up fists.

Adela puts down her fork before moving Mateo's hands away from his face. "He's having trouble sleeping?" Davie asks, her eyes on Mateo, who begins fussing in Adela's arms. "Yeah," Adela confirms, turning Mateo around in her arms, his torso on hers, "he woke up mid-nap earlier and didn't want to go back down."

"When Imogen was a baby," Davie begins and Imogen lets out a strangled sound, making Adela chuckle, "she was more stubborn than she is now."

"Mom," Imogen whined, letting her fork fall against her plate. The plate rattles and tips for a second, catching Mateo's attention. His eyes widen and he reaches over to grab the plate. Imogen gently grabs his hand and leans over to kiss it, earning a smile and coo from the almost 2-month-old.

Davie chuckles at her daughter before focusing back on Adela, "As I was saying," Davie sends her daughter a pointed look for a second, "the only thing that knocked Imogen out were sound machines. I have two in the basement, I'll give you one before you leave."

Adela shook her head as she rubbed Mateo's back, "You don't have to."

"I insist, Adela. I—. We want to help." Davie corrects herself, motioning to herself and her daughter. Imogen's cheeks flush slightly, but she nods.

Adela had half a mind to refuse them, but she'd tried before, and it always ended with the Adams giving her old—and sometimes new—baby equipment. "Thank you, Ms.—Davie." Adela pauses, correcting herself.

Davie smiles at the sixteen-year-old before looking back at her daughter. Well, specifically the full glass next to her daughter. "Imogen," Davie addresses, earning a hum from her daughter, "Drink your milk."

"Milk with dinner is gross. Right, Adela?" Imogen turns to Adela who widens her eyes and purses her lips, "Don't get me involved. I know better than to get in between an Adams showdown." Adela snickers, her cheeks aching from how many times she'd smiled that night.

"Smart," Davie winks at Adela before continuing on, "Your only source of calcium can't be from Ben and Jerry's." If only, Adela thought.

Imogen sighs and grabs her glass of milk, taking a big, audible gulp. "Thank you." Davie hums, a saccharine smile gracing her face.

Adela bounces Mateo in her arms, feeling him sag against her chest. She grabs the pacifier that was clipped to his shirt and brings it to his mouth, feeling a weight lift as he takes it in his mouth.

She continues to rock him while Davie talks to her daughter again, "Are you sure you're up for this, sweetie? 'Cause, you know, you could just burn her things."

In all honesty, Adela was up for burning things after hearing about what happened between Imogen and her ex-friend, Karen Beasley.

Imogen's eyes lit up, and Adela's heart stopped for a moment at the sight, "Like a backyard bonfire?"

Davie nodded with a sly smile, "That is standard punishment for being a fair-weather friend. And a stark raving crazy bitch."

Imogen and Adela's eyes widen, but both of their bodies vibrate with giggles. Imogen glances at Mateo, who looks seconds away from sleep, before looking back at her mother, "Mom! The language."

Speaking of the stark raving crazy bitch, a knock sounds at the front door.

"Will you come with me?" Imogen asks Adela, presenting her best puppy-dog look. Adela's mouth opens and shuts like a fish before she just nods rapidly like a bobblehead.

"If you hear screams, call for help." Imogen teases her mother before standing up, placing a hand on her five-month-old belly bump.

Adela gently rises from her seat, careful of waking a now sleeping Mateo while Imogen opens the door, and lets in the blonde Beasley.

Karen's eyes trail all over the house, briefly landing on Adela. Her face scrunches up a bit before she looks back at Imogen. The look doesn't go unnoticed by Imogen who scoffs and crosses her arms.

"Greg's waiting in the car, so...I don't want any drama," Karen clipped.

"Me neither," Imogen replies with a slightly curled lip and a tilted head.

"Hello, Karen. Haven't seen much of you lately." Davie's voice sounds behind Adela, and the younger girl peers over her shoulder to see Davie leaning against the wall corner separating the foyer and kitchen.

"Hi, Miss Adams. I've been busy." Karen shrugged, before looking down at the letter in her hand, "Here. This was taped to your door." Karen passes the letter to Davie, and Adela catches Davie's name written on the front in black except for the A in her name, which was red.

Weird choice, Adela thought, swaying gently to make sure that Mateo stayed asleep.

Adela turns back to Imogen and Karen as Davie opens the letter. "Where's my stuff?" Karen challenged, looking between Imogen and the door. As soon as Karen had opened her mouth, Adela decided that liked the girl even less. Imogen, though, replies with more grace than Adela would've, "Upstairs. In my room." Karen scoffs and nods before looking up the stairs behind her.

How rude. Adela looked behind her to see if Davie was seeing the scene unfolding before her, but her eyebrows furrowed as she watched Davie look down at a paper that Adela deduced was in the letter.

Adela had seen every possible look on Davie...except this one. Davie looked haunted. "Davie?" Adela whispered, catching the woman's attention. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Yes, yeah." Davie stammered, leaning against the wall with the paper in her hands, "Just, um...flyer for a new restaurant in town. You three, go on up."

Because that wasn't weird, Adela's eyebrows only narrowed more, but it wasn't her place to say anything. She brushes off the behavior and goes upstairs to Imogen's bedroom with Imogen and Karen in tow.

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"YOU GAVE ME THAT SHIRT, REMEMBER?" Imogen chimed in as Karen took a peach shirt off its hanger. Karen looks back at Imogen for a moment before looking through Imogen's closet again, "It's not like you can wear it anymore."

"Excuse you?" Adela blurts from her spot beside Imogen on her bay window seating, her eyes narrowed. Imogen puts a hand on Adela's knee, wordlessly calming her down, before shaking her head at Karen. "Karen, I told you. I've told you. I didn't kiss Greg. He kissed me."

"Shut up!" Karen cursed, making Adela's eyebrows shoot up. "When are you gonna let it go?" Imogen barked, scoffing under her breath.

Karen slowly turns to Imogen, "Let it go?" She walks toward the two teenage mothers, and Adela's spine straightens at the proximity, her hand protectively on her son's head. "You sucked my boyfriend's face at my fucking party."

A breathly laugh racks Karen's chest, "You know what? Forget it. You can keep all this stuff." Karen shrugs, turning around and throwing the clothes on the carpeted floor, "Forget it. You can keep all this stuff. It's shit anyway."

"I should get going too." Adela hesitated, but the sun had already gone down and her mother would start to worry soon.

Imogen frowned but nodded. The two girls rose from the bench and approached the bedroom door, only to be stopped by Karen, who hovered just outside the doorway.

As Adela and Imogen drew closer, they could hear the sound of trickling water. Adela managed to peer past Karen's shoulder, and what she saw next gave her pause: the entire hallway floor was soaked, with water flowing from the bathroom on the other side.

"What the..." Adela began, but her words trailed off as Karen stepped hesitantly down the hall. Adela and Imogen followed, with Imogen calling out for her mother but receiving no response.

They proceeded cautiously, watching their steps until they reached the bathroom door. It was slightly ajar, and Imogen looked back at Adela before gently pushing the door open.

As soon as Adela processed what was inside the bathroom, she turned around, clutching Mateo to her chest as Karen's screams woke him.

Adela's breath quickened as the horrific image etched itself into her mind. Davie Adams lay lifeless in the bathtub, with his wrists split open, and crimson liquid mixing with the overflowing water.

What terrified Adela the most, though, was the presence of an ominous A written on the wall in blood.

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄

I had this sitting in my Google Docs for a whole month...sorry about that.

▍PUBLISHED . . 09/13/23 — ♡︎ ୫
© POETICLULLS, 2023