Michael.

three

I was scared for my life after that. I wanted to continue like normal, but I could barely put one foot in front of the next yet alone act like nothing happened. I stood at least two hours finally after he left, and slowly found my way to my cell phone. Who could I call? A friend? The police? I knew Kyle was abusive, but he never raped me. The word stung on my tongue. My boyfriend of two years raped me.
Although, that was the least of my worry as the thought of him punching my stomach at least three times wrecked my mind. Even though I broke up with him, the baby is still there. I was determined to raise it with or without him, and it was a piece of hope for me after we broke up. I prayed that my little miracle was okay.
I dialed 9-1-1 after deep thought to check on the baby. I couldn't press charges against him; he would kill me. I had to protect myself to protect the one I love the most: my baby.
Less than an hour later, I was positioned comfortably in a hospital bed as my parents and sister frantically drove to the hospital. I don't remember much about what the doctors were saying, and I had just came out of surgery to help tears made during the event. The doctors gave me medicine to relax, though I couldn't stop flashbacks of the event: Kyle appearing in my home, pushing me on the ground, tearing my clothes off. I shook with fear as I was reminded he said "I'll be back tomorrow". I had to press charges, yet I didn't want his consequences.
I woke up later that evening, seeing my family surrounding me.
"Oh, thank God you're awake," my mother said, jumping up and leaping over to me. I cringed as she came toward me so quickly, and she quickly noticed. "I'm so sorry," she said, slowing down to a stop instantly. I had to think for a second before I spoke.
"S-sorry," I said slowly.
"It's okay, baby, it's all okay," my mother said.
"How do you feel?" My step father asked.
"Okay," I said, my mouth dry.
"The doctor wanted you to stay for atleast a day or two as long as you are getting better. If you feel up to it, you may be able to come home tomorrow night," my dad explained.
"No," I said suddenly, catching my parents off-guard, "he's coming back tomorrow." There was no way I would go back to that apartment. He knew where I lived. He knew how to break in. I couldn't go back there.
"What do you mean?" My mother said tentatively, trying to understand.
"H-he told me he was coming back tomorrow," I said, stuttering as another flashback went through my mind.
"Sweetie, we have police coming as soon as possible. Can you tell them what happened? Everything he said and did to you?" I couldn't respond. Tears welled up in my eyes. Everything flashed through my mind again. My heart rate monitor jumped up, sending the room in excessive beeping. My father jumped out of his chair, beaming to the door and calling for a doctor. A nurse came in, coming beside my bed.
"Calm down, it's okay, you're safe now," the nurse said as she muted the monitor, "she's okay. She is just having some post-shock. It'll blow over."
My parents nodded, listening carefully from the side.
"Jackie, listen sweetie," the nurse said as she muted my heart rate monitor, "I'm going to give you some pills just to help you relax. We have to be careful with your heart rate with the babies."
"The baby," I said suddenly, "is it alive?"
"Both are alive and well," the nurse said, "they weren't harmed at all."
"Both?" My mother questioned.
"Yes, she is pregnant with twins. About ten weeks along," the nurse explained, facing my mother. I looked at the two of them in almost shock. Twins? Two babies? I would need a bigger apartment. I would certainly need a better job. I would be giving up my life for two babies.
"Now, we brought some pamphlets for you to read so you don't grow bored. One is on abortion since you still have about twelve weeks left for that decision, and the other is on adoption which you have as much time as you desire," the nurse explained, handing me two packets. Abortion? Adoption? I couldn't abort my babies since this pregnancy was caused before we even broke up and I deserve whatever consequence comes from that. Adoption, on the other hand, didn't sound so bad. I would only want my babies to be adopted out together.
"Thank you," I said, slowly setting the abortion pamphlet to the side. The nurse scurried out of the room. My mother turned to me.
"The decision is yours, Jackie," my mother said, "whatever you know you can handle."
"Abortion isn't a choice," I said, "adoption may work."
"You don't want to raise them?" My father retorted.
"Well, I would like to," I admitted, "but it would be too much of a trouble for everyone around me since I'm by myself."
"It doesn't matter about everyone else. You know your mother and I will always be here for you and the babies, it's a given," my father explained. I was silent for a moment.
"Is Jenny here?" I asked. Jenny was my sister and my best friend. She is older than me by three years. She was my rock when I was stressed during high school or college. She was always there to be a leader when my biological father abused my mother, both physically and sexually. She was always patient to help James, who had a few mental disabilities.
I will always be thankful for my step-father when I think of my mother's abuse. My mother and him were co-workers when I was just nine years old, and he pulled us out of my father's home and into his own. My step-dad is more of a father than my biological father.
John, my older step-brother, was my step-dad's son from a previous marriage. John, James, Jenny, and I instantly got along and it was almost like we were always meant to be a family.
"Jenny is here with her family and so is John and his wife," my mother explained, "James is with your aunt."
"Can Jenny come back? I wanted to talk to her in private," I said tentatively.
"Of course," my mom said as they stood and left. Jenny had two kids of her own, so I figured she could guide me once again. She came in instantly.
"Jackie! You look great," Jenny said with a bright smile. I smiled for the first time that night.
"How's the kids?" I asked, referring to my two nieces, Grace and Haven.
"They're good. They are with Tyler right now," she explained, "but how about you? The baby?"
"Make that babies," I corrected.
"Babies? Twins? Triplets?" Jenny asked.
"Twins," I said, "I can't abort them but I don't know if I can raise them on my own."
"I was nervous before I had Grace," Jenny explained, "don't forget, Tyler was being deported and I would have to raise her by myself." I considered this for a moment. She had plenty of help and now, five years later, Grace is an energetic five year old.
"But I'm having twins," I explained, "imagine two Grace's at once." Jenny laughed.
"It'll be tough, but we'll be here to help you. I'm experienced now," Jenny said, and I grinned. I had plenty of time to get my life sorted out, but at the moment, I was content. The rape was out of my mind as I was distracted by laughter with my sister in joys of expecting.