It has been 9 months since my dad kicked me out. Everyday I think about how I left my mum to be slapped and not knowing what to do.
I am a few days away from having this baby. Things are okay; I have a job at a corner shop and I have a small flat. I don't even have many supplies for the baby; I have some powder formula, a crib and a few clothes, but that's about it.
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A few hours have passed. I can now feel a shooting pain in my stomach. It feels like a massive cramp in my lower intestines. It is time. Luckily, I live near a hospital. I hobble down to the hospital and as soon as I reach there, I am admitted to a hospital bed. I had thought at what I would name the child; if a girl, I'd call her Brianna, just like my mum; if a boy I'd call him Marcus. I push and soon enough I deliver a baby boy and, as I had planned, I call him Marcus.
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The next day I am allowed to take him home. I walk home with little Marcus in my hands. He is so warm and delicate. I cannot stop thinking about how everyone left me. I no longer have Shayana, Rochelle or not even my own parents.
When I get home, I can't help but cry. I put baby Marcus in his crib and head out to the supplies store. I grab the supplies I need and I head out of the shop.
YOU ARE READING
Little Rebel
Teen FictionThis story is about a girl named Rachael Crosby who is 15 years old. She turns into a very unruly teenager and frequently disobeys the rules of her parents and everyone else around her. But will her rowdy ways lead her onto the wrong path?
