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«I am pregnant» I whisper, as tears start streaming down my cheeks. «You can't tell him the truth, miss Jackson» the man says calmly, but the gloomy atmosphere and the threatening looks of the soldiers all around us reveal his mischievious purpose. «He is going to be a father, sir... He deserves to know it» I say, crossing my arms against my chest and chewing on my lower lip nervously.
I have no idea of where I am. They kidnapped me this morning and they have been keeping me in this unknown cell for hours. I am more than sure that I am not going to make it out alive, or if I do the price of my life will be extremely high.
«How sad it is, miss Jackson? You're going to be a mother of a most likely fatherless child. Poor baby... One day, you will look at yourself in the mirror and think :"Wouldn't it be better if he wasn't born?"» the officer speaks again, making me shiver. His words sound like a real threat now. Only God knows what is going on inside his wicked head. «What do you want from me?» I ask , regretting it almost immediately. «Your death» the man answers me, standing up and pointing a shiny loaded gun at me.
I follow his movements and, before I get the chance to reach the door behind me, I hear a shoot. The sting in my stomach hits me like a slap and I realise that this is how my life is ending. The first thought that pops up in my mind is my baby, our baby. I bring my hands down on my body, until I reach my stomach and I touch the bleeding wound I have just got.
I sigh and fall on my knees. My vision is getting blurry and I am not capable of moving anymore. I am slipping into the dark world of Death and the innocent soul of my child is coming with me. I couldn't protect him, I have failed. It is over.
I hear someone chuckles and I cough, closing my eyes in pain. I am numb.
«You were so stunning, my dear. You could have had everyone craving for you, if only you had wanted... But you chose to be stubborn and ignore my suggestions. Don't worry, we will tell him that you had an accident. He will cry your death» the man says. Even if I cannot see him, I am pretty sure he is wearing the warm smile I would gladly wipe away with a punch.
I groan in response and hold my stomach, attempting to stop the flow of sticky blood but , of course, it is totally useless.
«Goodbye, miss Jackson, I'm sorry for your loss. Mister James Buchanan Barnes will be utterly devasted» he comments, as I hear his footsteps departing.
I sob silently , praying the God my soul to keep and to watch over my man. Soon, I slowly fall into an endless slumber and I accept my fate.
