Author's Note: I went through and tried to clean up the first draft a little. I also took out the song lyrics because most of the reviewers agreed that it would be better without. Thank you all for the feedback. Enjoy the re-write.

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She locked the door and gripped the knob while her feet adjusted to the cold, bathroom tiles and her eyes adjusted the yellow light bouncing off the white walls. The door was locked so that she could commune with it in private.

It, she thought. It's not really an 'it' anymore... are you?

Carefully, not out of fondness but almost with instinctive caution, she placed a hand on her belly and raised her placid, gray eyes to the mirror. The image of the young woman placing a delicate hand on her slightly pregnant stomach would have been sweet in an Hallmark, Oprah Magazine kind of way, if it wasn't for the face she wore. It was one of almsot repullsion with a hint of macabre fascination.

In about four months, you're gonna come out of me.

She continued to stare into her own disbelieving gray eyes and finally turned them down to glance at her stomach again. It was starting to show somewhat. With a deep breath, she attempted to suck in the excess junk she was carrying up front and groaned when she found she couldn't very successfully. This was definitely real. It was real and it was living inside her.

"Shit," she whispered to her equally disturbed reflection. Her forehead touched the cool surface of the mirror and she purposely fogged the image of her terrified face with her breath. "What am I gonna do now?"

It wasn't as if she had neglected to ask herself this important question before, like when she first found out she was pregnant. But she had basically told herself four and a half months ago that she wouldn't start showing 'til about seven or eight months. Well, excuuuuuse her if she had meant to base all decision-making on that idea! Where had she picked up that useless and untrue factoid, her sixth grade trip to the city hospital to learn about you-know-what? It was only five months so far and her face had grown fuller, her calves had swelled up (which was something she hadn't even known about), and her chest was not particularly supported anymore by her favorite B-cup bra. Not to mention the just-barely-noticeable bulge in her stomach. There was no denying the fact that it had gotten everywhere. She felt stupid for not having this total 'Holy Shit!' moment way earlier but she assumed she had been in some sort of denial since it had been affirmed as 'Existing'. Although, this still wasn't an excuse for not sitting herself down and thinking it out rationally before now.

What am I doing? She gripped the sides of the sink. I have no idea what it is! It could be horrible, like some kind of demon-spawn. Christ, I saw Rosemary's Baby; I know how this can happen! Unconciously, she placed her hands on her stomach again. This was rediculous and she knew she was in over her head. And what was even worse than giving birth to the Omen child? What if they handed it to her and she felt exactly what she felt right now?

Nothing.

Right then, she could have sworn she felt it move. The strange sensation inside her that was not of her own doing and definitely not indegestion caused her to almost flop backwards onto the tile floor. Was it actually doing that or did it not do that yet? Was she just imagining it? She didn't even know at what time the heartbeat started, which seemed like something a good pregnant lady should know. Apparently all I know is how to make one and around when it's done.

Of course she had considered other options when she'd discovered it was... there. But she had been so calm and logical when finally she decided to have it. It's just what had seemed right. But as time had passed, she'd gotten more and more paranoid and not just in the possible-birthing-of-the-antichrist-sense. The idea that it was there, inside her, all the time was beginning to cause her stress and creep her out. Plus she had no earthly idea what she would do with it once it finally stopped just digesting her food and demanded some of its own as well as a crib, a mountain of stuffed animals, a shetland pony and a college fund. Oh, why the hell had she tried to be so adult and independent about this? She was alone and clueless, home to a paracite that she could not see herself cuddling and even Doctor Spock couldn't help her now.

It already seemed bad enough that it would soon decide it was done crouching in her womb, but eventually it would grow up to ask her questions. "What's the speed of light?" and "How can Santa Clause deliver all those presents in just one night?" and "What color does a smurf turn when you strangle it?" But the absolute worst of course would be: "Where's Daddy"

She closed one eye and squinted at her reflection. Good question.

Daddy was a one-night stand in Las Vegas when she visited for a business trip. Apparently not everything that happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, she thought. It was not her usual practice to have sex with random men but this one had been so charming, funny, and irresistable with his smiling green eyes and dimpled chin. She figured it was the mere tinge of his British accent that put her over the edge. And what the hell, she had thought. What's the worst that could happen?

Another case for it being the antichrist: cosmic irony.

So what was she supposed to tell it anyway? "Sweetie, your Daddy was a famous rock star who accidentally got too close to one of the mounted flame-throwers during a benefit concert for some kind of awareness and went up like a dry Christmas tree" or "He was a trained bomb-disarmer who tragically got his red wires crossed with his blue wires?" Making up these fake deaths was oddly amusing and almost made her forget about the issue but it still loomed there. Do I lie? Do I say I loved him even though we didn't exchange phone numbers or even have time for breakfast before we rushed back into our own lives? Somehow lying didn't seem right. And when she was paranoid enough about its existance in the first place, she figured that whole issue would be much easier to deal with when she got to it. And yet that was what she had been doing since she had found out.

Suddenly, she felt it move slightly again and realized she hadn't imagined it the first time. Whoa... It's really doing that. In all of five seconds, the fact that this... person was inside her and she had made it flooded her mind like iced water from a silver pitcher.

Oh yeah, she was scared but it was already coming, already happening. So let it. At least once it was here, it wouldn't be locked inside of her anymore, messing with her all the time. Plus then she could put a face with the name... which she didn't have either. Perhaps 'Damien' would be tempting the fates too much.

She wondered if she would really instantly love it when a doctor placed it in her arms. She wasn't sure how that was possible, but she had never been an expert at this or even a studying apprentice. But that was alright. They would learn together. It couldn't stay in there forever after all. A calm moment allowed her to smile warily at her reflection. Whatever it was going to be, it would be hers. And in all of her life, she wasn't sure if she'd ever had something really like that. Brat, Hoodlum, Exorcist-child, Braniac, Adventurer or otherwise, it would be hers.

Not 'it'.

She just somehow suddenly knew that it had to be a girl.