Angela laid out her mat and set the pillow on it. That's a heavy pillow, I thought, as it thumped onto the floor. Then she told us, "The pregnant body is God's most perfect creation." She pulled her blouse up over her belly, revealing a surprisingly dark linea negra on her light skin. An especially angry pink stretch mark ran vertically along her left side. She continued the motion, pulling the blouse off and dropping it on the floor. "Every part of our body is engaged in creating new life." She kicked off her sandals, and pulled her maternity pants down in a single movement, along with her panties. Somehow, she stayed balanced, despite her belly rolling in front of her. All six of us were speechless. She stood up, and popped the latch on the front of her nursing bra. Full breasts with dark, puffy areolas burst out of their bonds, nipples pointing straight ahead. She shrugged off the straps, and stood before us completely naked.

She bent down and picked up her pillow. "There's no modesty in the delivery room, so I want you each to become a goddess!" She looked around at us. "Ladies, pick up your pillows." We complied, each of us entranced by Angela's flawed, yet perfectly human body. "Now," she said, hold the pillow above your head. You are a queen, an angel! Hold your crown far above, so all can see your glory, and turn around. Face away from the center, towards your world."

Turning my back on someone doesn't come naturally to me, not where I come from. I could see in Evangelina's eyes that she didn't like the idea, either. But the other women had an ecstatic look, imagining themselves as radiant like Angela. We began to turn, except for Cecelia, who could not look away from Angela's breasts. As the rest of us faced the walls, Angela gently said, "Cecelia, I told you to turn around."

"Oh!" Cecelia squeaked. "I'm sorry, I..."

My ears heard a familiar click, and I instinctively turned my head. It was a sound from my neighborhood. The sound of a trigger right before...

*BLAM*

Cecelia's freckled face disappeared. Bright red freckles flew through the air, propelled by the buckshot across the room, landing on the floor, the tables we had pushed aside for the class, and all the way to the wall. A spurt of blood sprayed to her left from a severed artery, then Cecelia's pregnant body fell to the floor, a puppet with no strings.

Angela's hand was inside her pillowcase. The other end of the pillow had been blown apart by the blast from the shotgun she had hidden inside the pillow. Stuffing floated in the air. She grabbed the front of the weapon and cocked it for the next shot.

Evangelina was already running. The only ones in her family who survived were the ones who ran after the first shots rang out, and her instinct was true. She might have made it to the door if she had not been pregnant, but Angela's next shot hit her just below the hip. Her motion carried her forward, leaving her left leg behind, and she fell belly first onto the floor. Her right leg was ripped almost off, held to her body by a few tattered cords of muscle. She tried to pull herself forward, but instead, she just rolled onto her right side, her blouse riding up to show her blood-splattered belly. Blood poured out of her body as she cried out, "Ayudame!" She repeated her cry for help again, but more softly, as her blood pressure dropped to zero.