What Would've Happened

No Other Choice

Parting away from Mac was easily the hardest thing I've had to do. And that was two days ago. Now I was riding along the interstate, on my way back to Colorado. I was following Mac's suggestion and heading back home. As much as I wanted to stay back in New Mexico with him, I had to be realistic. I wouldn't survive there by myself, let alone a baby. Moving back to Colorado with my parents and Mike was definitely the best option.

I was only thirty minutes to town by this point. My ass was sore from sitting for two days. My wallet had been cleaned out of money from gas and oil. Plus the damn cravings didn't work for me either. I had to stop constantly to buy food, then puke an hour later.

The other time when I wasn't puking I spent thinking about how I was gonna present myself to my parents. How the hell am I gonna explain me being pregnant with Mac's baby? Knowing my parents, they'd view him as a druggie rapist, and they'd want me to get an abortion. I'd never get an abortion! That's practically murder! Especially since it's Mac's. Mac would've wanted this baby.

Daryl or Beth. Those are cute names.

I glanced down at my stomach, and smiled. There it was; our baby.

...

Finally, after forever, I pulled up in front of my parents house. I stayed inside the car, scared. What would they say? What would I say?

Shaking my head, I pulled the keys out of the ignition. My heart started pounding in my chest, and I was scared as hell. Spamming the truck door shut, I carefully made my way to the door. All Mac's and my stuff had been sold. All I had left was a purse, a little bit of money, and the clothes on my back. Plus, my tiny baby bump. I did the math in my head; I was one month, one week, and three days pregnant. With little Daryl or Beth. I wondered how old it has to be before you could tell the gender...

I was standing outside my parents door, my hand up in a fist. I've been missing for about five months. That five months have been the best of my life, excluding the first two weeks and the past two days.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I knocked on the door. I heard some shuffling on the other side of the door, and the lock clicked. The big white door swung open, revealing my mom. For a minute, her teal eyes were wide, and her mouth was in a big 'O' shape. Her blonde hair was a mess, with several notable streaks of grey in it. Poor thing, must've been stressing for the past half year about me.

"Marilyn? Who is it?" My father called from inside. When she didn't answer, I heard his rocking chair move, and his heavy footsteps came from the living room. "Marilyn, who's-"

"Hi Mom. Hi Dad." I whispered, tears falling from my eyes. My mother started crying, and my dad watched, a look of shock on his face. My dad was fairly tall, then again I'm only 5"5. He's a good 5"9. He had whispy grey and brown hair. He had blue eyes as well, and thin glasses.

"Angie!" My mom cried, wrapping me tightly in her arms. Her face buried in my shoulder, and her tears soaked into my shoulder. Beside me, my dad wrapped both of us in his arms. My stomach hurt from the pressure, and I was immediately worried for the baby's sake. I let out a squeak of pain, trying to cover my stomach. My parents let me go, and watched in horror as I rubbed the tiny bump. I was wearing a skin tight tank top, which easily showed the bump. I was too busy worrying about the baby to hear the sound of an engine in pulling up in the driveway.

"Angie?" I heard Mike call. I looked up from my stomach, and turned around. Mike was just getting out of a light blue van. The same blue van we used half a year ago...

He dropped his keys and started running towards me. I braced for impact, covering my stomach. Unfortunately, when Mike wrapped me in his arms, his belt buckle dug into my stomach painfully.

"Let go!" I shrieked, ripping away from him. He watched as I rubbed my tummy, lifting the shirt a little. The bump was even more noticeable.

"Angie, are you ok?" Mike asked, gently rubbing my shoulder.

"Define 'ok'." I muttered, rubbing tiny circles on my tummy.

"Angie, where the hell have you been for the past five months?" My dad demanded.

"Bob, be nice. You know what happened." My mom hissed. "Honey, we're so happy you're back, and safe!" She hissed the last part, glaring at my dad.

"What happened to you?" Mike asked. I could clearly tell they wanted to know if I was pregnant.

"I fell down a cliff, and got...kidnapped." I mumbled, looking down. I remembered that day like it happened yesterday. Mike shifted, clearly blaming himself.

"Come inside everyone. I've made baked Mac N' Cheese." My mom stated. I checked the time. It was 6:37. Dinner time. And moms Mac N' Cheese sounded amazing right now.

...

Dinner was awkward. Everyone insisted on sitting by me. Luckily, my dad, (being the most mature) let me sit at the end of the table by myself. Honestly, ever since I've been with Mac I've been kind of a loner. My dad either sensed it,or just thought I had post-traumatic stress disorder.

My mom wanted to know what happened to me, where I was, why I was hungry, etcetera. I didn't want to answer and bring up old memories of Mac. Dad, (being amazing and understanding) shut her up for me. Mike kept staring at me and my stomach, shocked I was alive and pregnant.

After dinner, we all sat down in the living room.

"Angie, the only way we can help you is if you tell us what happened." My dad stated, sitting in his rocking chair. I was sitting in my moms big, fluffy chair, while she and Mike sat on the couch.

"Do I have to?" I asked, looking at him with big, pleading eyes.

"Angie, if you want help, tell us. We're not gonna be mad." Oh if only you knew.

Sighing, I began. "After I got kidnapped, I was...was..." I didn't want to say that I was raped and beaten. But I didn't have to say anymore. My parents eyes were wide, and my mom started crying again. Mike comforted her, his eyes wide too, and I could see anger behind their brown depths. Brown. It wasn't as beautiful as blue like Mac's. "There were four guys. Only two...did that."

"Ok. What did the other two do?" My dad pressed.

"They just stood back, took care of me. Kinda." I mumbled. "One of the guys, the one who did that to me, he was actually really nice." There was a huge pause. I could sense the disbelief in the air.

"Ok. How was he nice if he did those things to you?" My dad asked, rubbing his chin.

"He put me on birth control so I didn't get pregnant with someone's baby. And the other guy that did it, he was always drunk, so he kept him away." I explained. My dad nodded thoughtfully.

"So how are you pregnant if you were on birth control?" He asked. Shit, he knew.

"They kinda ran out." I lied.

"Why did he even have birth control in the first place?"

"I don't know. Maybe they had some other girl with them at one point?" I honestly didn't know. I never asked Mac.

"Ok. Well, do you know who the father is?" My dad asked. Fuuuuck.

"Um..." I trailed off. How the hell was I supposed to explain that I was only abused for two weeks? The rest I spent with Mac! I should just tell them.

[Hola!!! Ok, just out of curiosity, what would you guys do if you were in Angie's shoes? Just comment your response! I would LOVE to know!!! :P ]