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It's A Crime
Rowan was unable to hold down her breakfast.
Ravi watched her as she coiled again, curling into a heave with her hands on either side of the toilet bowl. At 20, she wasn't used to biological barriers or the constraints of her body's needs, but she was being introduced to them all too abruptly now. Her hair was coming loose from her overnight braid, and he leant forward to tuck a strand behind her ear.
Rowan looked up after a moment, covering her mouth with an unsteady hand. Their eyes met.
"Okay?" He asked. She nodded.
He watched as she reached up to flush, folding her legs off to the side and leaning back against the wall. He sat with her.
"Has anyone replied?"
"No." She swallowed. "Cowards."
"They're not cowards, love, they just don't want to be criminals."
"I would rather be a criminal than have no conscience."
Ravi looked over, carefully, and tried to see through her mask. If he didn't already know her tells, he would have mistaken her for omnipotent.
"Maybe," he started, and saw her eyes flick over, "maybe accepting it... wouldn't be so bad."
Her voice was like stone when she replied, "I'm going to pretend you didn't say that."
"I don't mean you shouldn't have the choice," he hastened, "you should always, always have that. I just mean that there are so many bad things that could come from this. You don't deserve any of them, so is risking it worth it?"
"Worth what."
"Your freedom," he said, "your innocence. Your life."
"My life will end anyways if I do nothing."
"It won't end--"
"It will," she hissed, and turned to face him properly. He dropped his gaze, but continued to face her. "My life will end, Ravi. You don't understand, I have so much to do, so much to be-- if I do nothing, I won't be me anymore, I'll--" she choked, "--I'll belong to it."
He met her gaze once again, and found it watery.
"I'll be gone, love," she whispered, "I'll be a vessel."
He bowed towards her, and their foreheads met. Water dripped at a steady tempo into the sink.
She sniffed, and pulled back. "I'm not giving up my life for a single moment. That's not how my story ends."
"Being a mother isn't an ending, Rowan, it's the beginning of a new life."
"So is death."
Ravi laughed, just a little, low in his throat. As was so often with Rowan, he didn't really have an argument to match that.
"And at least death has the courtesy of being inevitable. This can be fixed, if only someone out there was willing to stop bowing to a law that makes people into puppets."
"Death has earned our acceptance. This is a sentence, Rav, and I am not going to go quietly."
He nodded, slowly. He supposed she deserved her anger. And her hope.
Anger and hope made a powerful pair.
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Firyal Quraishi Paladini is a 16 year-old writer from San Antonio Texas. She is published in Cathartic Youth Literary Magazine, Youth Be Heard Magazine, and was the first place winner of March For Our Lives' essay writing contest. She hopes that her writing will be influential enough to promote change in the political world.