Heather had just finished having some drinks with a few friends and was en route to the apartment she shared with her boyfriend of the last two years. She had her hand inside her purse gripping a taser. There was a serial killer currently on the loose and Heather wanted to make sure she was ready to give him 50,000 volts of 'leave me the hell alone' in case their paths crossed.
Heather arrived at her apartment and walked through the door. "I'm home DJ," Heather called. She didn't see DJ upon entering or hear a reply. This worried her because she was expecting him to be at their home. She started checking the rooms and found him in the bathroom.
DJ was in a bathtub that was overflowing, and not just with water. Blood was mixed with water. That, combined with how lifelessly still DJ was, Heather came to one conclusion: DJ was dead.
Heather's mouth was agape in shock as tears started streaming from her eyes. As she was crying, memories of her time with DJ came rushing to her.
The two of them were on their first date. They had decided to go dancing. Heather was impressed that DJ was both a great dancer and not trying to grind against her body or feel her up every 5 seconds: things that made him different from guys she had previously dated.
"So I guess this is over now," Heather said as she and DJ stood outside his mother's house. DJ had decided to tell his mama about their relationship and she made it very clear that she did approve due to Heather's actions on the show.
"Not necessarily," DJ said.
"What do you mean?"
"Mama may not know best here."
"Are you serious?" Heather asked. Considering how devoted DJ was to his mother, this was very odd. DJ decided to reply in the form of leaning forward and giving Heather a deep kiss.
Heather and DJ were in bed after a passionate bout of lovemaking. She was embracing DJ's broad and muscular frame. It hadn't been the most intense sex she had ever had, but now she knew why it was sometimes referred to as 'being intimate'. Of course, that didn't mean she couldn't try something she was more used to with DJ.
DJ had his arms and legs tied to bedposts. Across from him was Heather, wearing a tight leather corset, six-inch heels and holding a whip.
"Please be gentle," DJ weakly whimpered.
"Sorry DJ, but 'gentle' is not what tonight's about," Heather said and cracked her whip for emphasis.
Heather was brought out of her reminiscing by a sudden and intense wave of nausea. She wasn't sure if it was from her own grief or the sight in front of her, but she threw up on the bathroom floor.
Several hours later, Heather was inside a hotel room she had gotten. She had called the police and they were doing the whole CSI bit at the apartment. Heather had tried to sleep, but it was a lost a cause. She was mentally debating on committing suicide, but not because she thought that she and DJ would be reunited in the afterlife.
DJ was more than just her boyfriend: he was her moral compass. DJ had helped her in so many ways to become a half-way decent human being. Heather was worried that any chance of his work sticking may have died with him.
Since getting any sleep was out of the question, Heather decided to do something constructive with her time. She got out her laptop from a bag she packed before leaving her apartment. She placed it on a table and sat down. She opened a blank Word document and began composing DJ's eulogy.
I know this will sound cliché as hell, but DJ was the light of my life, Heather typed. He had this gift for bringing out the best in me. He made me believe I could rise above my ego and my past to be a better person. I'm not sure why DJ decided to date me, considering that there are literally thousands of women in the world who deserved to receive his kindness, but I will always be grateful that he decided to…..
Heather stopped typing as she was hit by another intense wave of nausea. She backed away from her computer and hurried to the bathroom, vomiting into the toilet.
Oh come on, it wasn't that bad, Heather thought, chastising what she thought was a criticism of her work. With that of the way, she realized that she had just thrown up twice in under 6 hours. That's got to be some kind of record. Wait a second: vomiting, nausea, my bras have been felling tighter this past week….. holy shit. Heather's eyes widened in shock as the possibility occurred to her that she might be pregnant.
Heather got up and began making some coffee with the room's coffee maker. She would normally think of drinking coffee at 3:00 AM to be a stupid move, but it wouldn't take long for the caffine to make her want to pee, which she needed to use the home pregnancy test she had in the toilitries bag she had packed. One downed cup of coffee later, Heather went into the bathroom, got out a test and sat on the toilet.
All throughout this time, the thought of abortion never occurred to her. While this was definitely not the best circumstance to have a child abortion would be a moot point since Heather wasn't even sure if she was going to be alive that much longer.
As she held the test underneath herself and waited for the need to pee, she thought about the implications of her possible condition. The first thought that came to her mind was what if she was pregnant and DJ never got to see his child. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that DJ would have been a great father if given the chance: he always had so much love to give. Wait a second, Heather thought as she placed her free hand on her stomach, DJ's child.
It suddenly occurred to her that if she really was pregnant, then she was going to give birth to something of DJ's that would live on past him. Not just something of DJ's, but a lasting symbol of the love the two of them shared. When she thought of it that way, she almost wanted the result of the test to be positive. Speaking of the test, Heather thought as she noticed she was finally able to pee. She urinated over the strip, placed it face down on the counter so she'd only see the results when she was ready.
As she stood up and began washing her hands, she began thinking back the important matter at hand. She was thinking about possibly keeping the baby in the event of a positive test result. Between her well-paying job and personal trust fund, money would not be an issue. Unfortunately, raising the child (especially by herself) would be another matter entirely. She was afraid that when the child hit adolesenece, it would be a repeat of Heather's own teen years. She wanted to do better for this child than turning it into another her.
She had finished washing her hands when she realized how selfish it would be to bring a child into the world just so she could have a reminder of DJ and the time they shared. Not necessarily, Heather mentally countered. Women have children for all kinds of reasons, like 'the condom broke', 'the bastard didn't pull out like he said he would' and 'I can't get an abortion because my family's catholic. Would my reason really that bad compared to those?
She went exited the bathroom and saw from the clock-radio on the nightstand that enough time had passed for the test to get a result. She went back to the bathroom and stood over the face-down plastic strip.
Heather took a deep breath. She knew that flipping over the strip to see the result would be the most life-changing instance she had ever experienced. If it was positive, then she would have her body expand, her hormones go nuts and finally go through the agony of child-birth all so she could be saddled with the responsibility for the well being and emotional development of another human being. But at least I'd have something to live for, which I could really use right now, Heather thought.
And if the was negative, Heather would be spared all the unpleasantness of child bearing and the only thing DJ will have left behind is his impact on Heather. It was then that Heather realized she had made a grave mistake in getting her hopes up about the possible pregnancy. She was now afraid that the disappointment from a negative result could push her into making a decision about her earlier suicide contemplations.
She stepped up to the counter, picked up the test and flipped it.
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It was positive. "Yes!" Heather cried into the air with her arms raised. "Yes, yes, yes, yes," she continued. Tears started coming from her eyes, but unlike before these were tears of joy.
She placed her hand on her stomach, which would soon be growing along with the new life inside her. She had never believed in God, or Budha or Allah or anything kind of higher power before, but this made her reconsider things.
He's sending me a message, Heather thought, not sure which 'he' she had in mind or if 'he' was real. He wants me to live.
Author's notes: a great source of inspiration for this story was the closing moments of season 4 of 'Dexter', although you could probably tell that from DJ's death if you're familiar with the show. The "he wants me to live" line is paraphrased from the anime movie 'Princess Mononoke'.