Help Me Hotline by JadedRayne
Disclaimer- I do not own any character from Inuyasha anime/manga created by Rumiko Takahashi. Nor do I make money off of writing fanfiction… it’s purely for enjoyment to satisfy my sick mind. Hope you don’t mind! Disclaimer applies to all chapters follow this one.
JR- Really! There’s a lot of good 100 word drabbles out there and I really would like a try at it. I mean it seems easier to update than lengthy chapters… Not that I’m ever going to abandon my current story, Murasaki. I do feel rather bummed with it though. Anyhoo, please enjoy this new short chapter series of mine!
Warning! It will be a little ‘angsty’ at first. And… this first chapter will be a little over 1000 words… Sorry!
Help Me Hotline
Really, what’s the good in living now?
She stared at her bearer of bad news with utter horror etched in her features. Had it been diagnosed differently—she would’ve rejoiced. A terminal illness, maybe even a sexually transmitted disease would have been better for her situation. No…
Fate wasn’t so kind to her.
“Miss Higurashi…” Her family physician held a grim look in her aged eyes. It was apparent she worried for the sanity. Such a prominent diagnosis wasn’t to be taken lightly. The aged woman shut her eyes as if she was uncomfortable to say her next words to the emotionally vulnerable woman. “We can only suggest alternative treatments, should you not—”
“Not what?” Kagome hissed; her fiery eyes burned into the soul of her physician. Her temper got the best of her once more. Her short-fused rambunctiousness was what got her in this situation in the first place. She knew fully well what her doctor was going to offer—but she’ll have none of it.
“No.” She closed her immaculate colored eyes—the color so vagrant and deep in a blue hue it’ll make the brightest sapphire gem green with envy. “I won’t go down that route,” her tone firm and unyielding.
The doctor nodded in agreement, clasping her hands over her neatly organized desk. “What do you suggest we do now?”
Kagome held strong, her eyes gleaming with unwavering vigor—she will not bow down to those who want her to crumble. At least, not in front of people, not even her doctor. For the moment, her body was most important of all. “A call to the ultrasound technician would be a start. The second... a few prescriptions for prenatal vitamins seems to be in order.” Her voice sounded determined and rational—but her heart quivered and tightened with turmoil. She cursed her temper and berated herself for being ignorant. After all, that’s how she wounded up pregnant.
What am I going to do now? What do I say to mama…?
“Oh Kagome, is everything alright?” Kunloon looked worriedly at her daughter.
Kagome nodded mutely. Her strong front she played began to crumble down around her as entered the kitchen she knew so well. “Just a common stomach bug, mama.”
Her heart lurched from her devious lie. But how was she supposed to tell her dear mother that she was pregnant? With her heart hammering in her chest, Kagome forced herself to inhale slowly to fight her onslaught of unshed tears. “I’ll just rest upstairs until dinner.” Not able to hold back her tears any longer, she raced up the stairs of her family home not wanting to show her weakness.
She always has been proud. But this is where pride has gotten her.
She raced into her old room and clicked the door shut behind her—relieved to be alone, closed off from the rest of the world. There she stood, stunned. Her voluminous tears seeped uncontrollably down her cheeks as the day’s events tumbled about her unsteady mind. She choked back a sob, running a hand over her slim abdomen.
‘Because you know why,’ her conscious stoically answered. She had her whole life ahead of her—fresh out of college majoring in communications and hospitality; she hoped to be the best flight stewardess ever lived. To be able to fly, to be free. Who was going to hire a pregnant flight attendant, later to be child bound? Another sob racked her body—the sound offending and foreign to her ears. The ever cheery Kagome now huddling on the floor with her back against the door, mourned.
Your family will be so disappointed.
Kagome cried harder, not caring who or what heard her. She has dishonored her family’s blood—all descendants of noble priest and priestesses. All were proper and tradition, but her. Her head grew light from her inability to level her breathing—her mind reeled with exiled emotions.
You should just lay down and die.
Her own conscious taunted her, jeering at her mistake; pouring salt down her wound. No. She didn’t want to die. Didn’t want to kill the life within her, but what was she to do? Living, she would be discovered and dishonor her family… In death, she would dishonor her family for committing suicide.
Had she not gone to the bar that night, she wouldn’t be in this situation. Had she listened to her best friend and stay at home… she would be in her apartment now, huddled in her rocking chair watching her favorite dramas. Stupidly then, she didn’t.
Dying isn’t hard… It can be quick and painless…
Was that the answer? Death? She feared her own judgment at this given moment. She feared her conscious will get the best of her and win, sending her into the black abyss known as death. With trembling fingers, she dipped into her pocket of her hoodie to retrieve her cellphone. She numbly flipped open her phone—her lethargic fingers slowly dialed the number she knew can help. She hesitated. Wondering, questioning if she should go through with her actions. She refuses to find easy peace through death, it would be wrong. No, she wants to live. She wasn’t the one to kill an innocent life—there were two hanging in the choices of her actions now.
Save yourself from the pain…
Fearing her unstable emotions, she pressed the dial button. Both hands holding the phone in her hands, she clumsily placed it against the side of her face listening to the monotone ringing. The wait for an answer seem to have been years before the other line clicked open and background noise can be heard.
“Please… help me,” Kagome wept through the receiver. “I… I don’t know what to do…” A new wave of raw emotions crashed down upon her shoulders as she confessed. “Please help…”
Eternities seem to have passed before the person on the other line answered. A voice so cold and smooth answered her, “Do not do it.” His voice held no immediate concern, as if just reading a line out of the manuscript they rehearse repeatedly during training. Was this the person she was supposed to confide in when wanting to commit suicide? His tone stoic and uncaring, sounding as if she was the one who inconvenienced him.
What was she supposed to do?
// 1065 words
JR- Woots! That’s snippet 1. 1065 words, the next one will be 500! I PROMISE! I won’t go over 500 words next time!