Out of the Darkness

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○ t e s s a ○

I stand in the bathroom, my shaking hands grasping the countertop for support. I inhale nervously and glance at the pregnancy test that sat on the counter just inches from me. I couldn't look, I didn't want to look. A small piece of plastic could determine my entire future in one single moment. I knew that if there were two lines on the test my life wouldn't be the same.

I pray for only one line. I pray to a God I don't believe in, after all, if He were real, He wouldn't have let it happen. I pray for one line so that maybe my life can still be normal. Nobody has to know what happened. Although... even if there is only one line, my life will never be normal again. I'll be different forever.

I close my eyes gently and grab the test. Slowly, I pick up the pregnancy test, afraid of what it is going to tell me; dreading the answer. A quick glance and I throw the test at the counter angrily. Two lines. Positive.

I toss the test onto the counter, angrily, and it slides across the surface. I fall to the knees, feeling defeated and broken. A sob climbs up my throat and I push it back. I can't cry. Not now. My family is asleep and I can't wake them, and I know that if I cry I could never stop. I allow small tears to leak out of my dark blue eyes. I stand up and look in the mirror and see the eighteen-year-old girl with dark brown hair, completely ruined by that night and the positive pregnancy test. I was never going to be a teenager again. I would never get to see life out of a normal eighteen year old's eyes because now I was pregnant and becoming a mother.

The word spun around in my mind and I become more and more overwhelmed. I'm going to be a mother. How could this have happened? How? And yet it had happened. It happened that night. The night I could never forget. The night I gave up and didn't fight back. The night it was my fault. I couldn't do anything now except desperately try to push away the nightmarish memories.

Life was so perfect before. I was a good eighteen-year-old girl. Straight A's. Good college. Great friends and family. How could something so horrible, so unspeakable, happen to me? But it did. And there's nothing I can do about it but remember what happened.

Filthy, large hands that dragged me into that cold, dark alleyway. Hands all over my body even when I begged him to stop, begged him to leave me alone. I screamed for someone, anyone to help me. And no one came. Breath reeking of alcohol blowing in my face as he slammed his hand against my mouth to keep me quiet. Muffled screams pouring from my lips, tears streaming down my cheeks, slurred and vulgar words leaking from his mouth. Hands that roamed where they shouldn't, where I never wanted them to be. Scratchy, gravelly voice whispering horrible, sexual things. Too rough. He was too rough. Bruises all over my body that are difficult to hide. Bruises on my face, my neck, my arms. But I have to hide them, carefully, because no one can know. They'll tell me it was my fault. My fault he touched me. My fault he didn't stop. My fault he grabbed me. My fault. My fault. My fault he— no. I can't even think about it.

My head is spinning now and I suddenly feel dizzy. My stomach churns and I collapse to the ground, heaving the remains of last night's dinner from my stomach and into the toilet. After I finish vomiting, I take a deep breath, which comes out as a sigh and I lean my head against the wall. I blink and tears start to flood out of my eyes. I don't know what to do. How would I tell my parents? And Halstyn. How could I ever tell Halstyn? My sixteen-year-old sister who looks up to me as a role model. Who loves me even through all of my imperfections and mistakes. But now this was a mistake she could never love me despite it. She wouldn't be able to look me in the eyes. She'd be so disappointed and utterly disgusted to see her role model now. My sister who has always loved me and looked up to me... How would she see me if she knew? She wouldn't be able to look me in the eye. She'd be too disappointed.