Gemma has left me. Suddenly gone. She went last week and said she was having to move away to live with an aunt in wales, Newtown to be precise, just an hour away in the car but it was too far away for me to jump on my bike. I’d love to ride away with Gemma again, like I did when we were kids, back in the spring. I’m not a kid any more, Gemma stole my innocence, that’s what my mum says anyway. She said she knew she shouldn’t have let me get involved with that awful girl. Now Gemma is gone, I hate my mum and I feel like I’m the man I wanted to be for Gemma but she’s not here.
I go round to Gemma’s house when my mum is out and speak to her parents. They welcome me in with open arms, sit me down and make me tea. Then they hit with the big questions did I know? Did I know what? I’m left wondering for ages, I ask them what they mean. Then it all spills out. Did I know Gemma was pregnant? No of course not, of course I didn’t know. If I knew I’d be with her holding her hand, telling her everything was going to be ok. Now Gemma is still gone and so is my baby.
My baby. My baby. My baby. I keep saying it over and over again in my head, hoping that it wasn’t true, forcing myself to believe it, then trying to convince myself that it wasn’t mine. It’s too late now though. I know I’d never see it. It wasn’t Gemma’s baby either, I know she never wanted children. She was always hanging around playing with me and in the dirt. Had no interest in playing with baby dolls. I began to wonder what was going to happen to the baby.
I suppose the reason she got sent away was to give the baby away. I didn’t even know how pregnant she was. She didn’t look that pregnant to me but what do I know. I needed to know more, I need to find out from Gemma’s mum when the baby was due. I needed to know the sex of the baby, I needed to know if it was mine. I needed to go and find Gemma. So I asked her mum and dad if they could take me to see her but they said no, instead they told me she lived in Newtown near the town centre and would often go for walks to clear her head.
So I went on the train, I gathered what pocket money I had saved up and took the train to Newtown. Through the fields, and into the sparse town. I got off at the station and walked for what seemed like an eternity to the town centre. I ran from place to place looking for Gemma, dashing in and out of shops, catching glimpses of the beautiful girl that stole my heart. The gorgeous girl who was having my baby. She’d make a wonderful mother.
Then she was there, sat on a bench next to the river. I’d finally found her, her long mousy brown hair was tied up on top of her head, her attractive body hidden underneath baggy clothing. She looked glowing. I called out her name. she glanced across at me and stared, tears running down her red, puffy face. I ran over to her across the footpath and it was then I noticed the twisted anger in her face. Gemma yelled me and in an angry blur she told me it wasn’t my baby, she’d cheated, didn’t know whose baby it was.
There wasn’t going to be any baby, it was going to stay here and when it was over Gemma would go home and return to normal. I turned around and walked away, my own face now matching Gemma’s, my heart was in my mouth. The bitter cold was stinging my skin and everything I had once acknowledged was very quickly driven out of the world, into the new millennium, and the unfamiliar.