Hopeful

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“I hate you!” The angry girl exclaimed with hatred burning in her eyes, “You knew you would do this to me and now you say it’s my entire fault! You’re just a complete idiot who doesn’t know how to make me happy, like you did.” The fury that she seemed to emit multiplied, until the whole street was quite listening to the pure unchanged hatred that was pouring out of her mouth and into the ears of her ex-boyfriend.

“It’s not my fault” The boy barely whispered, his eyes transfixed on the dangerous women which he had known only as his ex-girlfriend, “It’s yours, you didn’t have to go and get pregnant, you stupid girl, like I said, it’s over; I can’t be seen with a pregnant girl,”

“Oh great, so it’s your self-esteem that’s more important to you than your own frickin’ kid? You are a complete idiot; I’m nine months pregnant so close to dropping that I should be going into hospital, but no. Instead of you being the supportive guy you used to be, caring, sweet, and helpful. You are now just not giving any and wanting to walk away. Fine be like that” She screamed in pure revulsion, suddenly she went deadly calm, with a small smile on her face, her eyes still glittering with the same untouched fury that had not left since this had all started.

She stared him down and spat at him “don’t make me want to hurt you”. She paused, making eye contact with him for the last time “your house now, you’ll never see me, again that’s a promise” Doubling over in agony she gave a short gasp “I’m giving birth, but don’t let me stay, it’s your house after all, I’m off.”

She ran off, tears in her eyes glistening with the pain and the shock of the situation. As she ran out the door, leaving it to slam and echo the hatred throughout the house, she winced with pain; suddenly realising that this was probably the worst time to fight, but she knew that she was too proud to go back, too proud, too insolent, too idiotic. She didn’t care, she never had and all she wanted to do was just go to hospital.

She ran slowly towards the hospital, every step once jarring her body with more pain than the last, suddenly she went pale and all that surrounded her gave a small gasp as she collapsed on to the ground with a small crunch. The next thing she knew she was laying on a hospital bed with a crowd of worried doctors surrounding her like a swarm of angry bees. She groaned as a stabbing pain epi-centred to her womb, at which point she realised that she had finally given birth, mainly due to the fact that a young Nurse with pale skin and black short hair politely gave her a small bundle, hardly whispering “It’s a girl, but I’m sorry we had to do a suzerain”.

The thought began to echo round her head and it throbbed until it was a tidal wave which only seemed to overcome all of her emotions. She was a mum, by herself, skint and with no support. She stared at the tiny wad which seemed to wiggle and gurgle in delight; however the eyes of parcel seemed to glow with hope to see her mother, at long last. However to the mother, a small girl, scared and alone; the bright green eyes only seemed to deem her life to one of caring for a bratty kid that only cried. She wondered to herself if that was what she wanted for the rest of her life and firmly decided with a quick short stare at the child that it wasn’t, but she may as well name her, cause it, wasn’t a good enough name for her daughter.

She looked to the ceiling motioning with her one free hand for the doctors and nurses to leave, and with a fleeting glance at the ill mother on the bed clasping the small child they quickly left. With the child all to herself, the girl smiled to herself as she thought of all the names she could name the girl. Looking up, she looked at a poster that was for a holiday in St. Lucia, and like a light bulb her eyes gleamed at the idea, it was so obscure, so perfect for this mis-match of events, to bring the girl into the earth. 

“Lucia, sweetie, that’s your name, Lucia.” She let the words roll around on her tongue and stared back into the appreciative face of her child, which relied on her fully. She looked at the drips and the wires that were attached to herself, and she looked down to a wire attached to her arm.

With a sad smile, she whispered to the baby “I’m sorry Lucia but I can’t do this, I would desert you  and I wouldn’t be a good enough mother. I hope you can forgive me for what I’m about to do, you will never know me” With a short gasp she pulled the tube out of her, and watched the blood drain from her arm and her vision fade into blackness. The last she remembered was a doctor screaming “She’s trying to kill herself, protocol 2!”

Then nothing…

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⏰ Last updated: Mar 23, 2014 ⏰

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