"Don't blame this on Uncle Aleck! He treated me kindly and looked after me so," you defended sharply, "This was my decision, I chose to do what I did. Don't involve Uncle."

A moment of solid and eerie silence followed, were heavy breathing after shouting and screaming could only be heard among the ticking of the clock.

Your mother looked down in a panic, her eyes flickering over the floor.

"I can't have you having some black marker operation... And I'm not having this family's reputation soiled if we take you to a clinic..." she mused, before he cold and seemingly unloving eyes flickered up. "You shall just have to bear the child, and when it is born- we'll decide from there..." she said in a chilling tone, briskly casting her eyes over your form one more time before she wrenched the bedroom door open, and looked coldly at you from over her shoulder.

"I shall be informing your father of your ungodly sins, child- you should pray the lord forgives you." she spat wit a pure venom, her voice as brittle as glass and as cold as ice, sending a petrified shiver down your spine.

You had never felt more alone in your life- your family were sure to disgrace you, and the one you loved was hundreds of miles away, blissfully unaware that you were carrying his child.

Slowly, your hands went to your currently flat stomach, and you carefully traced the skin, swallowing a lump in your throat.

"What am I to do?" you ghosted the words, barely whispers, as they tumbled from your tongue and fell into the silence of the room- soon to be ungraced with the sound of your gut wrenching sobs.

----

9 long and secretive months passed you by in the walls of your stately home, which had quickly become your prison.

Your father had been kinder than your mother, but still was ashamed and disgraced by the choices you had made while in London.

The worst part was the awful and almost disgusted looks you got from your own parents every single day, when they looked upon your protruding stomach. Whenever you could you always tried to hide yourself out of sight like a skittish feline, realising it was best for everyone that way.

Each and every waking moment you were made to feel a freak, an outcast and something to be shamed. Existing felt hell, sometimes you debated whether death would be a way out- but each time you considered it the thought of Jacob's unborn child stopped all of that for you. You wanted to be alive for your baby- and the hope that on day, you could reunite the baby with it's father.

However, every night you retired to bed, you would dream of Jacob. You missed him dearly, and seeing his face in your sleep, always comforted you from the horrors of waking up each day. His words were always soft, a comfort- and horribly so, they always felt too real, and a sour pang would shoot through you each time your eyes opened to he same bleak sunlight. You never wanted to wake up from the peaceful nights of his warm touches, and how he would tell you that you were going to be fine.

For 9 agonising months this continued, until one early morning, you couldn't stop stirring, the child inside of you kicking and squirming relentlessly within your womb, making you groan in discomfort. An agonising sensations of your muscles pulling inside made you cry out, hot sweats sweeping over your pasty skin- and before long, you felt a pooling wetness soak between your thighs, and after ripping back the covers you could see the definitive wet patch that had drenched the sheets.

Your waters had broken.

Screams loud and pained rang through the sleeping halls of the house, and before long all of the maids came rushing to your side- having been considerably kinder to you than your parents- who were nowhere to be seen.

"Easy now, (name)..." Maid Frieda called softly, taking your hand as she fetched a basin of water and some clean towels, before pressing a wet flannel to your forehead. "Deep breaths and stay calm."

"It hurts!" you screamed, when another contraction ripped through your every being, making your back arch inwards and your breath lock completely. Frieda gave you a concerned look, clearly seeing a girl of 19 in such a situation, disregarded by her parents, her baby fatherless- made her more concerned for you than ever.

"I know, petal- but you have to push through!" she called encouragingly, squeezing your hand.

Push through

Three long hours of pushing through; had gotten you into a hot state of pure pain, your knees spread wide as two of the manor's nurses had arrived an hour or so ago after being told about your sudden labour.

"Just a few more pushes and your baby should be here-" one called supportively, as you nodded your head softly to yourself. A little more, that was all you needed.

"You can do it, (name)!" Frieda cried, brushing back the strands of your (hair colour) hair that had clung to your forehead with the sweat that filmed over your skin. And push you did, with each contraction of your muscles you pushed against, resisting the pain and breaking your own threshold, your heart thudding hard and your breath ragged by the time you pushed for the very last time.

Small, frail mews and cries filled your room, which was beginning to fill with the morning sun's warming rays.

"Oh, your beautiful baby is here!" the nurses said excitedly, as you let your head fall back heavily. All around you the fussing and the talking blended into one, and you realised how heavy your head felt on your neck, how tender and drained your entire system was... soon, before you'd even got to hold your find or find out the gender, you'd been swept away by exhaustion.

------

Hours passed, and you awoke once more at mid morning- your body tender and your head throbbing madly, but still you managed to sit yourself up slightly.

Just beside your bed, Frieda was bundling together the towels from the labour gone by, and you smiled wearily at her. She didn't respond.

"Maid Frieda, would you know where my baby is? I would very much like to see them." you asked with a hoarse voice, from the screams that had earlier torn your throat up. Frieda looked up with weary and sunken eyes, bloodshot and red.... she'd been crying.

"(name), you cannot see your child..." she said, not even able to look at you any longer, "Your mother came in while you were asleep... she has taken the baby away."

Only once before had you ever been hurt so brutally by words, and that was when you knew you would have to leave Jacob- and it seemed this second dosage was enough to rip your heart into even more pieces.

"No, no-!" you resisted, shaking your head madly, "No-! That cannot be! That is impossible!" you shouted, the shock and the rage melting into desperate sadness, as you collapsed backwards again.

"She cant..." you wept harshly, your chest wrenching with each sob as the tears streamed openly down your face, "I never got to hold my child..."

"I am sorry, Miss Bell." Frieda apologised, picking together the towels as she headed to the door, her back to you, "What's done is done. Perhaps it is best."

Those words would forever mark you- how everyone expected you to move on and leave your baby as another one of your childish landmark mistakes and write it off- you were very very unsure.


From that day on you promised yourself, you would get the truth one day- and find your child.


-----


A/N: And there it is! I hope you all liked this little Prologue which sets up the story! I shall see all of you wonderful beans in the next chapter ;)



Under The Blade {Sequel to 'In Time'}Where stories live. Discover now