Image by Midnight_Witch @ TDA!
Troian Bellisario as Bollie, the wretchedly misunderstood heroine.
Confession one - I’m convinced my Conscious and my Subconscious argue when I’m asleep.
It was three twenty one am, November 1st, when I sat up in my bed in the middle of the night and thought, ‘Shit.’
To understand exactly why I woke up from a blissful slumber to do this relatively innocuous activity you have to work back a few weeks, when I woke up one morning feeling vaguely nauseous, and for some reason didn’t fancy toast for breakfast, even though I’d had it every single day for six years without fail.
Of course, like any sane, rational, compartmentalising person, I convinced myself it couldn’t possibly have anything to do with the events of That Night, and instead decided I probably had a small stomach bug which would pass soon enough. Even when it continued, I assumed I was just too tired, overworking myself maybe, as I’d been known to do. I really thought it was no big deal. Mistake numero uno.
Then I noticed that my stick-insect frame was getting a little curvier. I’d even managed to go up a cup size, and I decided it was worth it, despite the fact that my boobs were sore because of it. But that, too, I reasoned, must surely just be the gods taking pity on a wannabe fatty, and finally allowing me to gain some weight. Once again, nothing suspicious. And there’s mistake numero dos.
Then, finally, in the final week of October, I realised that the period I was due was obstinately not coming. This, too, though, could be rationally explained - I knew that often when a girl gained or lost weight in a small period of time her periods could become irregular - so that was that accounted for. Nothing to worry about.
Bing! Mistake numero tres.
And so, with all these peculiarities perfectly accounted for and my explanations holding solid, why then did I wake up at three twenty one am, on November 1st, and think, ‘Shit’.
Because I had no reasonable explanation for it, except that my body was perhaps more in tune with itself than I thought, and a little sleep was all I need to put the final puzzle piece in place.
Because the thought that followed the cuss was one I had honestly never thought I would have, especially not now, in the sixth year Ravenclaw dorms at Hogwarts.
Yeah, I’d never thought for a second I’d have to look at the azure hangings that curtained off my bed and conclude, ‘I must be pregnant’, and then fall back, groaning, onto my bed, without a doubt in my mind that it was true.
But it’s funny how things work out sometimes, isn’t it?
- - - - -
Nov 1st, Bollie’s Brain.
Shit. I must be pregnant.
Don’t be stupid, why would you even say that.
Well, I mean come on, I’ve skipped a period, I’ve gained weight, and I’m even getting morning sickness. Come on Conscious, even an idiot like you can’t miss such obvious signs as those.
I'll thank you
to stop being so rude, Subconscious. I’m running the battle front over here. You’re really just a glorified storage cupboard.
Oh come on, all this silly bickering is getting us nowhere. Do you believe we’re pregnant or not?
Well… I mean, I don’t think we could
be. We’ve never even had sex! So that settles that.
Oh come on, don’t give me that bull, Conscious. I’m where you hid the bloody memory! Don’t make me remind you of That Night.
Ugh, okay, fine, there’s no need to threaten me. I guess, if it’ll shut you up, we’ll go get a pregnancy test at the weekend.
Good. Now come on, wake Bollie up. Make her think, ‘Shit, I must be pregnant’.
Fine, jeez, no need to get so bossy
. I think you’re forgetting who’s in charge here.
Oh come on, you’re such a child.
Give me a break!
Just do it already.