Somewhere in the world there is a young woman sitting on the edge of a sink
It may be her own bathroom
Or a gas stations, with the flickering lights
Or at the boyfriends she isn’t sure she loves place
No matter where she is, she sits on the edge of the sink
Youth stains her face the same way sadness lines her eyes
She is young and yet
And yet
She holds the dreaded pink stick
And it reads positive
She knows,
Knows so many things
What her mother would say
And her father
And her boyfriend
Knows she can no longer reach for the cigarette she aches for
And that she can no longer drink a too large glass of wine with her friends
And that her job as a bartender may be at risk
Knows that kids cost money
And that there is never enough of that
She knows she has to make a choice
And she has two
In a year she could;
Could go back to school
Could be drowning in diapers and screaming
In five she could;
Could graduate with honours
Could be shepherding a child with her face into kindergarten
In ten she could;
Could be resenting her love life, again
Could marry her fated love
In fifteen she could;
Could be a mother with debts for friends
Could be alone with only her work for friends
In twenty she could;
Could be the top of a company
Could be having this conversation with her own daughter
Could go on forever
She's barely done raising herself
How, oh how is she supposed to add in a kid?
A living creature who cries and breathes and needs
Needs food and clothes and and and
She aches for her mother to tell her what to do
Like her lungs crave the poison she smokes
The smoke was supposed to kill the childish wants in her
Why hasn’t it yet?
God she would kill for a cigarette
That's what they told her as she snuck out at 3 am with rebellion in heart
The same heart that still yearns for adventure and change and freedom
Will it rot away in her chest if she settles now?
Will it poison her no matter how tight she ties her grandmother's apron around the poisoned wound?
Will she doom a child to a life stuck with her just to pass on the same poison her mother gave her?
Would she resent her child,
Like her mother resents her?
A personal view of what could have been?
What she could have been
Will she blame that innocent little face for the life that she chose?
No.
She wouldn’t
She never allow herself to be her mother
She will be a better mother than hers ever could be
In a moment like this her child could come to her
Breathing, crying, needing
Any time of any day
She will not poison her child
The not so dreaded pink stick lays beside her
It still reads positive
A choice is made that day
Her life will never be the same
Suddenly the youth that stains her face feels
Like the years to come instead of the years behind her
Sitting on the edge of the sink her life is changed
Cassius Solaris
Grade: 11 / Sec. V
Bedford Road Collegiate
Saskatoon, SK
“In my English class we were asked to write a story about choice, this work did not fit the criteria but I loved the idea. I drew from inspiration from my own mother who had me at a young age and what her thoughts might have been. She is one of the most important people to me. It was also a bit of a love letter to all of the single mothers in media and the world who are trying their best even if it might not look like the norm.”
Bio
Cassius Solaris is a grade eleven student from Saskatoon, Saskatchewan. They are non-binary and use they/he pronouns and you can often find reflections of his experiences within his writing. When not writing they’re often found doing tarot, watching F1,and horseback riding.