What If? [#TKBMovieContest]

What If?

The rain was gentler than most days in her suburb, only letting out small pitter-patter rather than pouring down her gutterless roof. The drops spilled down in a large puddle that splashed onto her dirty windows that created a tapping noise, louder than the entire rain itself.

Despite this, Dayanara Jones remained sound asleep, content in the buff arms of her lover.

Until whines and blubbers poured in from a white gadget perched on her nightstand. She began to stir, causing the equally-aged man to stir as well.

She let the gadget ring a few moments more before she gave into herself. Her hoarse voice rang throughout the empty room, "Baby?"

The man kept his dark-skinned eyelids closed, "Yeah, babe?" He muttered.

"Can you take care of it?"

He shook his head slowly, "Before sunrise, he's your son." He rolled over to the other side of the bed, robbing her of his warmth and their shared contact she yearned for.

She nudged him.

Nothing.

"Dammit Carter," she muttered to herself as she slid out from under the thin sheets and into some worn-out slippers. Carter chuckled to himself, still loud enough for Dayanara to send him a glare.

Her caramel-colored fingers reached for her phone which promptly lit up. 2:17 AM, it read. She let out a sigh. It was becoming routine for her, as much as she hated to admit it.

What-ifs plagued her at day and they invaded her dreams at night. She tried to rid herself of them, she had been taught that they were a sign of ungratefulness, something her mother loathed. There were times that she could still hear her voice and feel the sting of her wrist slaps.

Her mother wasn't there, she remembered, and the nostalgic smile fell off her face. Ever since Carter, her mother said that she would never be there for her again.

She loved Carter. He made her feel like she was a goddess. The way his buff chocolate arms wrapped themselves around her petite body and told her she was the world to him was alluring. The marks he'd leave on her skin, the notes he'd write. He would return from work exhausted and all she'd need to do was grasp his hand and stroke him to lighten him.

He loved her. He supported her dreams of becoming an anchorwoman on a popular news channel. He'd join in on her rants, he'd cook whatever dinner she wanted because he knew she was a hopeless cook. He trusted her with advice, helped with homework. He'd follow all the clues she gave him for presents.

He listened, something her mother failed at.

But there were still questions. What if she didn't rush with Carter, and wasn't a mother at seventeen?

What if she didn't have to get up so early to take care of her child?

What if money wasn't tight?

What if they weren't madly in love, and knew that their family was just enough?