"Jameelah, are you sitting down?"  A college dormitory telephone ringing at what I believe to be around 9 or 9:15 a.m. is always a breeding ground for concern.  This must be really serious!  I take a seat in the only available of the two chairs in the room.  "Yes, Phil I'm seated."
"Are you sure you're seated?"  I want to scream.  I wish he would tell me already what is wrong.  I'm so nervous.  The last time something of this magnitude occurred I was seventeen and my mother died.  Oh no.  Not again.  Not another death.  I can't take that right now.  I'm barely in my sophomore year of college and just getting acclimated to my new found environment, freedom, and learning experiences.  However, I love Phil.  He's been so kind to me in the midst of my recent tragedies and transformations. So, I'll wait but with sheer anxiety.  "Phil, I'm positive I'm seated."  With a deep sigh Phil goes on to say, "Jameelah, you're pregnant."  The silence on the phone is deafening.  "Jameelah, are you still there?"  After what appears to be an eternity, I snap back to reality.  "Yes, Phil I'm here."
"Are you okay Jameelah?  I'm here if you need someone to talk to.  Stop by the office today if you need to speak with me."
"I have class at 9:55 and an afternoon class.  I will see you later this afternoon."  As I hang up the phone, I methodically get ready for class.  I take a shower.  I'm afraid to touch my stomach.  I know I'll get attached.  I'm an only child.  I lost my mother two years ago.  I don't know who my father is.  My child's father and I have broken up.  Our coexistence was very rocky with sex holding us together.  He won't be happy.  I know he won't.  He doesn't like children.  He doesn't want children.  I recall a conversation we had.  He clearly stated, "I don't want to have children."
As I brush my teeth, I look in the mirror.  I look the same.  Why am I moving so slow?  I have class.  I don't want to be late.  Walking to class, my legs feel like lead.  The air is crisp and clean.  It's winter.  However, the weather feels seasonably warm.  I want to get through the day.  I want to go and speak with Phil, someone I can trust.  
I need to tell my child's father.  I need to tell my grandmother.  Thinking of my grandmother gives me mixed emotions.  I want to smile because she's my best friend.  I can confide in her.  Surely, she'll understand.  She was a teenage mom.  Then again, she is my grandmother.  This is so much harder than I ever imagined it would be.  I just need to get through this day.  This surreal ominous day.