My Name is Nikita Part One

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Put your story text here...My Name Is Nikita.

By Danielle Buhr

PART 1:

I turn the shower nozzle on, and a blast of hot water shoots down into the porcelain tub. I stick my hand in and test the water, it is almost too hot I can' t stand it- perfect. I remove my fuzzy pink bathrobe, and step in. The water washes away the days pain. My hands migrate down to my stomach. I feel a tiny bulge. I swallow hard, and quickly remove them, I am trying my hardest not to think about two months ago. I reach for my vanilla scented shampoo, and wash my hair carefully, massaging my scalp, which relaxes me. Before long I am curled up in a tiny ball on the bottom of the tub. I stroke the bump on my stomach, hoping that if I rub it enough it will diminish into the hot water. No such luck. I daydream, but I am quickly snapped out of my trance as I hear my mothers voice.

"Nikki, you've been in there for over an hour, I need to get ready for work darling. Please get out."

"Just a second." I say.

I shut the water off, wrap my hair in a towel, and step out. I open the door and emerge into the freezing cold wasteland of my hall way. The steam pours out of the bathroom. I laugh and mutter 'Cool' under my breath.

After I step into yoga pants and a comfy over-sized t-shirt, I walk downstairs. My mom is pulling a brush through her coffee colored hair. She looks so cute in her scrubs. My mom has been through a lot. My father was a raging drunk, and abusive. He never could come to face the fact that he was an ass, so my mother kicked him out on his ass, before he could reach the end of his bottle. I go up to my mother and wrap my arms around her waist, and tell her I love her. She kisses my forehead and says;

"I love you too baby."

"Mommy."

"Yes baby?"

"I'm pregnant."

My mom is pacing around the kitchen. Her questions pound me like bullets from an A-K 47. They hurt.

"What the hell happened?"

"How did it happen?"

"When did it happen?"

"Who did this to you?"

The last question hits me the hardest. I can't seem to muster out the words. There's honestly nothing I can say to her. Nothing. I know the words. I can taste them on my tongue, they're practically hanging there, but I can't push them off. I know what I want to say, it hurts so bad to think about it. I can't imagine how my mother is going to feel when I tell her. I push that thought away quickly, because I realize it happened to me. I am the one who is pregnant. So I butch up and say it.

"I got raped."

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Hello beautiful Watt-Padders!

This is my first story and I'm super sorry how short it is! But I am hoping you like it, and my grammar, and spelling is to the best of my abilities! I will try to get part two up as quick as I can!!

<3 Buhrberry <3

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