I walk up the stairs to the kitchen, with the smell of bacon and coffee in the air. At the head of the table, my dad sits in his bathing robe and has a mug of coffee in his hand. With his reading glasses almost at the bottom of his nose, he is reading the state paper. Next to him is my teenage brother, who is shirtless and is smothering his breakfast, as if he is in a hurry.         

“Don’t choke,” I say at my brother. He looks up at me with a glare, while having a piece of bacon hanging out. His whole body jiggles and his eyes are almost covered with his greasy straight hair. He tries to respond, but gets caught on his food.
“Good morning, Claire,” greets my dad. He said it as if he had no interest, like he normally talks to me.
“Good morning to you, too,” I respond, not looking at him.
“Where’s Chris,” asks my dad, actually looking at me and with a little concern in his voice.
“He’s sleeping downstairs right now,” I respond with confidence so it seems like I have the situation under control.
As soon as I say that, I hear crying from the basement.
“He’s not sleeping anymore,” snickered my brother with a grin on his face.
“Shut up Eric,” I say back and walk away to attend my son. As I get closer to my room, the noise gets louder and louder. Entering the room, I see little Chris in his crib crying. I walk over and greet him with a smile. As soon as he sees my face, he starts to calm down
“Good morning bud,” I say in a high happy voice. Picking him out of his crib, I smell something that reminds me of puke and a farm. I take Chris over to my changing table in my room. Opening the diaper, Chris decides to go to the bathroom one more time, giving me an unpleasant liquid to the face. I am like one of those kids on Nickelodeon being sprayed with the green ooze.
“Damn it,” I mutter under my breath trying to stop him from peeing on me. As it starts to go away, I open my eyes with frustration, but my mood swings when I see Chris’s face, smiling and laughing. I could never be in a bad mood when I see my boy in a happy mood.
I wipe my face off with some wet wipes, and then start to change Chris’s diaper. As I start to unwrap it, dark brown goo falls out, giving the smell of diarrhea in my head. For most people it’s expected of them to cover their mouth, or even barf. But Chris is four months old now, so I’ve been doing this for a while. I finish wiping him, getting in the butt crack, between his legs, and making sure there are no rashes. After that, the next step is to grab a new diaper and wrap it around him. As I finish, I pick him up and lay him on his back in the open area by his toys.
I sit back in my chair, and try to relax a little before another boring day comes. Staring out the window, snow is falling lightly and the trees have lost all leafs. The sky is covered with light grey clouds, giving off few colors outside. The air is calm, with no breeze, making it nicer to look outside.
I change my view onto the mirror in front of me. Looking into the mirror, I see a girl. I see a girl that once was beautiful, intelligent, happy, and free. She has none of those traits anymore. It’s like I am a worn out rug; I was once beautiful and admirable, but now I’m worn out and seem useless.  I rub my eyes to get a new clear image of myself, but only to be disappointed and displeased to see the same thing. Only to see a small, skinny pale girl, with blonde bed head hair down to her elbows.
“Hello,” my mother surprises me at my door.
“Hi,” I respond quietly, and turn towards her. She’s wearing a black coat that goes down to her feet. Her black hair is curled up to her shoulders, and her lips are as red as a rose.
“What are your plans for today,” she asks calmly.
“What do you think,” I respond turning my head towards her and glaring at her, “I’ll do what I do every day. Sit in this boring house and watch Chris.” I look away again, mad at her. It’s like she’s mocking me and making fun of me.
“We’ll maybe you could call up a friend and see if they wanted to meet Chris.” It’s not a bad idea. “I don’t know, they’re all in college probably.” “Well it wouldn’t hurt asking,” she says as she starts to walk away.
“Mom,” I yell to her.
“Yes,” she asks as she comes back to the door. I want to tell her that I’m sorry of being rude, and thank her for the idea. But that’s not all, I want to tell her that I’m thankful for everything she has done for me; letting me stay at their house, taking care of Chris once in a while, and giving me everything I need to support Chis. I’m sorry that I couldn’t be the daughter she wanted. But I don’t.
“Never mind,” I say turning away. I see her face in the mirror as she walks away, looking sad and disappointed as if she knew what I was about to say.
Looking back at Chris, I see that he’s found interest at looking at his mirror. It’s as if he thinks it’s another person. He looks confused, but then changes to another toy, banging his ball on the ground. To lighten things up, I turn on my TV to watch the Today Show, to see what’s happening. Watching the Today Show always brightens my day up, because all the hosts are in a positive mood, and you learn new things on every show.
As the TV screen turned on, Al Roker was interviewing a woman. It was an African American woman, and I was for sure it was Michelle Obama. But as the screen became clear, it wasn’t someone I had recognized. She was a younger woman, who looked to be in her lower twenties. Her name was Janay Rice, NFL running back Ray Rice’s wife. I remembered this was the domestic violence abuse case. Seeing the video of her getting knocked out was disturbing, and very frustrating.
But she wasn’t talking about how she hated ray, or how people need to be more aware of domestic violence.  Janay was talking about how she wanted the public to know that Ray is still a good guy, and that whatever happened that night wasn’t her husband. It turns out that Janay and Ray later got married, and that she wants to stay with him until the end. I’m surprised about her decision. She could have sued man for thousands of dollars, and get even with him by ruining his career and life. But she goes on about how people need to learn to forgive, and says that everyone is human and we all make mistakes.  
I start to think about my ex-boyfriend Ben, how he had left me when I announced I was pregnant. We were together for a year and a half, and he left me like that. He first responded to it as if it was a joke, but then his face went ice cold when I had said no. He had called me a stupid b**** in front of my family, and told me it was my fault he didn’t use a condom. My dad tried to step in and told Ben not to call his daughter a b**** ever again. Ben responded by punching my dad in the gut, and he went to his car and drove away. It was the last time I had seen Ben face to face.
We had decided not to call the police, and to let him run away. I’ve always thought my parents did that so there was a greater chance he’d never come back. From that incident, my relationship with my family has been worsened hugely. My brother won’t talk to me, my parents don’t trust me anymore, and it seems like they’re all embarrassed to be with me. But that was when I was pregnant. Now that Chris is here, I feel like things are starting to get back to normal. It’s still not close as it used to be, but it’s a working progress.
Thinking about Ben coming back and asking to be the father of Chris came across my mind. How would I react to that, I don’t know. Ben was someone I had met at a high school basketball game. The West Springfield team was playing our rivals, East Springfield. We were home, and my girls and I were cheering in our student section. Ben was on the East Springfield team, the starting point guard. With time running out, he hit a game winning buzzer three pointer to send us home for the playoffs. At the end of the game, everyone went onto the court to take pictures with all of the players. As I’m walking through the crowd, I was knocked over.
“Are you okay,” someone asked. I looked up and saw Ben waiting for me to respond. He had curly brown hair, blue eyes, and dimples on his golden tan face. His body was built like a I stupidly stared at him for a second or two, and finally snapped out of it and said yes, taking his hand to help me up.
Later on that week, Ben somehow got my phone number and started texting me. Those texts messages went to dates, then to school dances, and then he had finally asked me out on senior homecoming dance. I immediately said yes, and it was official. But the hardest part of being in a relationship was that we lived forty five minutes away from each other, him being on the east side, and I being west side. We sacrificed so much time to be together. The hardest part was denying hanging out with friends, or missing school events just to see each other. But it was worth it, because he was like my other half.
But the thought of Ben coming back was almost impossible. He didn’t even want to be part of the fact that he was already a father. But that was over a year ago, and maybe he’s changed and regretted that whole incident.
Chris starts to cry again, and he looks at me like he’s frustrated. “Are you hungry,” I ask in the high happy voice. I pick him up and go back up to the kitchen to fetch a bottle of milk. When I get to the top of the stairs, my dad is standing there fixing his bright red tie.
“Need some help,” I ask and I center his tie before he answers.
“Thanks,” he laughs, “Want me to hold him for a little bit?”
“Yea, I have to make a bottle quick.” I hand him over, and rush to grab the ingredients.
“So what are you up today?”
“Nothing much, I’ll probably call some friends up and see if they want to hang out or get lunch.”
“Alright, well I can meet you somewhere for lunch if you want.” I stop for a second; because it’s the first time in a while my dad has offered to do something with me.
“Ok,” I respond slowly, “well if nothing workouts, I call you.”
“Ok, sounds good,” he says handing me back Chris. I walk down stairs, feeling like I’ve finally accomplished something positive with my relationship with my dad.
I lay down Chris in his crib and let him suck on his bottle, which he fully capable of doing by himself now. Not knowing what to do next, I take my mom’s advice. Every person I think of calling though is in school, and right now they’re in exams. The only person coming to my mind now is Ben. I can’t call him though, he won’t want to talk. He hates me, so why would he ever want to see me.
But maybe he’ll actually want to meet his son. I’m sure he’s matured and changed from a year later. I should just give it a chance, and if it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t hurt anyone. But the problem is it will hurt me deeply, and that I don’t know if I’ll get over it soon.
“What do you think Chris,” I ask and look at him. He stares at me while eating his breakfast, having no clue what I’m saying. I have a gut feeling I should at least try, so I decide that I will. I grab my iPhone, and search his Facebook because he changed his phone number. As I dial the numbers, my hand shakes, and I start to get nervous. The number is in, and I press the green call button. It rings once, no answer. Phone rings a second time, no answer. Rings a third time, and still no answer. I start to think negatively and think he won’t pick up, and I should hang up. “Hello,” someone asks on the other side. I press the phone up onto my ear when I hear the deep, but soft voice. “Hi, is this Ben Nickles?” “Yes, this is Ben.”
My body starts to get excited, and a smile comes across my face. “Hi Ben, this is Claire. Claire Winston.” The phone is silent for five seconds that feels like five minutes. “Hi Claire, nice to hear your voice again,” he answered. “Nice to hear your voice too, Ben. I was wondering if we could meet sometime today, or soon, you know, in person.” There was another long pause, and I could almost hear my heartbeat on the phone. “I don’t really think so Claire,” he said, and I heard him scratch his head while saying it. “Don’t you want to meet your son,” I ask. “Wait, you had him,” he said like he was surprised. “Yes I did. His name Christopher Benjamin Winston. You have to meet him Ben, he’s handsome, and fun to-.” “No,” interrupted Ben, “he can’t meet me.” “Why not?” “Because what I did to you was horrible, and I can’t even forgive myself,” said Ben. “But Ben, he’s a baby, he didn’t know what you did,” pleaded Claire, “all I want is for you to see him and us to talk.” “I’m sorry Claire, I just can’t right now,” said Ben, and he hung up.
I held the phone by my ear for a while, and slowly put it into my pocket. Looking back at Chris, slowly dozing off, I couldn’t believe of what had just happened. It was like Ben was afraid Chris was going to judge him, a baby was going to judge him. I’m still in shock as I sit back down into my chair. I look at my mirror again, and see the same woman I was this morning, except feeling more useless.