Chapter 3 - Locked Outside
At first, I didn't panic. I assumed the door had simply caught on the rubber weatherstripping due to a draft or the uneven pressure of the frame. I turned around, a mild irritation washing over me, and reached for the metal handle, pulling it firmly toward me.
It didn't budge.
I frowned, jiggling the handle harder. The latch was firmly engaged from the inside. Through the double-paned glass of the sliding door, I saw Brenda standing just inches away. Her arms were crossed over her chest, a cold, smug smirk plastered across her face.
Panic flared in my chest, hot and sharp. I banged my palm flat against the glass.
"Brenda!" I yelled, my voice muffled by the thick double-paned window. "Open the door! Stop playing games!"
She didn't move. Instead, she took a slow step closer to the glass, looking down at me as if I were an insect trapped beneath a microscope. Her lips moved, and though the sound couldn't easily penetrate the glass, I could read the cruel shape of her words: Maybe a little suffering will teach you not to be so weak.
A wave of absolute disbelief and sheer terror washed over me. The temperature outside was plummeting rapidly as the sun dipped below the horizon, and I was wearing only a thin cotton sweater and leggings.
"Are you insane?" I screamed, slamming my fist harder against the glass. "I'm pregnant! Let me in right now!"
Brenda rolled her eyes with exaggerated theatricality. "Stop being so dramatic, Clara. You'll survive a few minutes out there. Maybe the cold air will clear that lazy attitude out of your head."
Before I could scream again, Brenda turned her back on me. I watched in horror as she sauntered away from the sliding door, disappearing into the brightly lit warmth of the living room, where upbeat music was playing and television chatter echoed softly through the walls.
The freezing night air sliced through my thin sweater almost instantly, making my skin pucker into goosebumps. I grabbed the door handle again and shook it with all my might, throwing my weight against the frame, but it was locked securely from the inside.
"Help!" I shouted into the empty evening air, my voice cracking in the wind. "Jacob! Someone, please open the door!"
Within seconds, the cold began to take physical possession of my body. The metal handle felt like a searing iron of ice against my bare palms. First my fingers lost all sensation, going completely numb as the blood retreated from my extremities. Then my toes began to ache with a deep, searing pain. I started pounding on the glass again, crying out until my throat raw, but inside the apartment, the combination of music, laughter, and television volume drowned out my desperate pleas.
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Time lost all meaning. Every minute stretched out like an eternity. The chill penetrated my core, causing violent, uncontrollable shudders to wrack my frame.
Then, deep within my abdomen, a terrifying sensation took hold.
