Lois Can't Deny It Anymore

Lois could feel the tenseness in her shoulders and back and told herself it wasn't because of the increased weight form her belly and breasts. The idol seemed to stare at her as she crossed back toward the bathroom with the pregnancy test. She knew she couldn't be pregnant, but Lois felt like she was losing her mind.

"I just need some proof," she said out loud to reassure herself. "Every woman gets a scare every now and again, right? Stupid internet stories working on my nerves...just going to check the test, have a drink, and call it a night. Wake up in the morning and everything will be normal."

The pregnancy test was where she left it, on the counter near the toilet. She grabbed it and flicked on the light.

Two blue lines stared up at Lois.

"No no no fuck fuck FUCK!" The reporter found herself yelling, staring at the test. It had been negative before. Only minutes ago. Now it showed...it showed...

Lois stared at the bathroom mirror. Her nipples looked darker, puffier. The belly was rounder, more prominent, the faint beginnings of the dark line stretching up from her pubic hair to her belly button. On anyone else, absolutely anyone else, Lois wouldn't hesitate to say...

"I'm pregnant," she whispered, voice choked with rage. Incredulity and disbelief had passed through Lois in a white-hot second, and what was left was an adrenaline rush of pure anger.

It's not fucking fair! I go months—months! Without so much as a fucking date, nothing between my legs except what runs on batteries, and even when I can bring myself to fuck I use condoms and birth control and...and I fucking starve myself and work out even when I'm hurt and sick just to stay in shape and I get knocked up by some internet legend of a goddamn statue!?

She swiveled, nostrils flaring, pulse pounding in her temples. The reporter's eyes fastened on the statue and she stalked towards it. Her stomach was churning, bile rising in her throat, hands shaking, and Lois couldn't decide if it was morning sickness or just the adrenaline that made her want to pick up the statue and smash it into a thousand pieces—but then she remembered the stories.

Lois clenched and unclenched her hands, feeling the nails dig into her palms. In the stories, some of the women had tried breaking the statue. The stories had always ended abruptly when that happened. What happened to the women was never exactly clear, but the hint had been something bad...

The reporter shook with rage. She could feel the weight of her stomach now, her lower back aching as her spine arched forward. Lois could feel the anger bubble inside of her as she struggled to make a choice.