Infinite Fear by Jacqueline Abrahams

Prologue

    The same song is playing on
three of the five radio stations in this damn car. I slam my hand
over the power button, deafening the irritating noise. I flick open
my phone for the thousandth time in the last three hours. 11:45am . In fifteen
minutes, Shana will be back with me. And I won’t be so fucking
antsy anymore.
    The weather outside is dismal. The thick
layer of fog that shrouded the clinic earlier this morning has
lifted, only to reveal a mass of angry-looking grey clouds above.
The heating in dad’s Mustang cuts out every ten minutes, blasting
my face with cold, frosty air. I wind down the window and light
another cigarette. I don’t usually smoke, but this morning I’ve
gone through a full pack already. Puffing on the cigarettes was the
only thing that seemed to stop my leg from shaking
uncontrollably.
    I wish I were inside with
her . But Shana made her wishes clear
yesterday. She didn’t want me to come in with her. She wanted to be
alone. I had pleaded and yelled and then pleaded again, to no
avail. The events of the last few weeks replay over and over in my
mind as I sit here. The vivid memory of the two pink lines on the
pee stick that changed our relationship forever. The horrible
memory of me asking her to marry me, telling her we could do this
together if she wanted to, and her saying no.
    I don’t give a damn that
we’re eighteen. I was raised to do the right thing. And that’s what
I would have done. Not to mention the fact
that I fucking love her . And if I loved her
properly, then I would have thought to prevent this in the first
place. It was my responsibility, and I failed. I rub my temples in
frustration. The past three hours have felt like an
eternity.
    My phone vibrates in my hand and Jade’s name
flashes across the screen. She’s called every half hour, all
morning long. I stopped taking her calls at 10:30. I understand her
concern for Shana, but the constant calling is driving me insane,
worse than I already am. I dismiss the call and see that the clock
has finally hit noon.
    Without a moment’s hesitation, I grab the
keys and race up the stairs two at a time, yanking the door open as
I reach the top. The receptionist behind the worn desk wears a
tight bun that pulls back her eyes in a very unnatural way.
    “I’m looking for my girlfriend,” I say
abruptly. She doesn’t acknowledge my presence at all.
    Different
approach . “Excuse me,” I say
politely.
    “Yes,” she says, barely looking away from
her computer screen.
    “I’m looking for my girlfriend, Shana,” I
state through gritted teeth.
    “No one here by that name,” she says
flatly.
    “She’s here, I watched her walk in the door
this morning,” I say, my voice rising with agitation.
    “Well, I’m telling you, she’s not here now,”
she answers in the same irritatingly flat voice.
    “Check again!” I yell, too loudly. The
people in the waiting room all look up from their phones and
magazines to see what all the fuss is about.
    The receptionist drops her pen and raises
her eyes to meet mine, her glare venomous. “Look, little boy, I
told you there is no one here by that name. Maybe you should
consider the fact that she would have told you if she wanted you to
know that she left!”
    “Fuck!” I shout before
slamming through the clinic doors. Racing down the stairs, I dial
Shana’s number. Answering machine. And again, voicemail. And again.
My hands tremble as I fight for control of my panic. I’ll try one more time . I
dial, and the call goes straight to voicemail, without even ringing
this time.
    That’s the point where I
lose it. I’m not angry. I’m
terrified . Terrified of what may have
happened to Shana. But more terrified that nothing at all
happened. That she just
left . I raise my fist and slam it straight
through Mustang’s window. Shards of glass fly into the car,
splinters embedding into my skin, blood oozing instantly from the
cuts. Why the fuck would she do this to
me? I promised