The day I told my mom was pregnant was a day I was always dreamed of, but the only problem, the only idea that didn't come through my mind when I always dreamed of it was this time I would have to tell her that her only daughter, her only child, got banged up by someone who just left her. Who didn't care what happened to her or the baby.
I didn't want to see the look on her face, I never wanted to hurt her, especially since she had to go through the same thing. She had raised me on the idea that the world is not so terrible, that there more good people than there are bad. She always told me that I would find the perfect guy, even if my father had left her she had made sure that I was not mad at God for this but that I understood that it was his own unforgivable mistake. All my life I believed it, I had thought that men were not as evil as my father.
The day I met James I thought he was it. That this my happy ever after. We had a had a great three years, I loved him. The way he made me feel, I felt like I had a family. You see my mom's family hated her, they were disgusted by the way she acted, that she rebelled against her original religion and for the fact that she let a man get her pregnant.
As I drove to my mother's place a stream of never ending tears blurred my vision. Unfortunately I was still able to see. I pulled up to the drive way and got out of the car. I waddled to the door and knocked on it. As my mother's rounded body approached the door I felt uneasy. How the hell was I suppose to tell her. I had practiced over and over in the car, but each time I imagined her reaction to the news it was horrible.
"Hi sweetheart, I wasn't expecting you. Wear is James?" She asked closing the door behind me.
"About that, mum please can you take a seat." I ask her walking to the living room. I smiled gently at her worried look but when she nodded and sat I was incredibly thankful. I sat next to her and took her small hands in mine.
'What is it dear, what happened?" She had asked, her demeanor was completely concerned.
The guilt had crushed me as I continued to look at her. How could I have done this to my own mother, the one who had made it her goal to makes sure nothing like this would ever happen to me. That I would not follow her own mistake, I knew that it was wrong but this child did feel like a gift. "I-I'm pregnant." I had said looking down. From the removal of her hands, it had told me that my worst dreams have had come true with out even looking at her facial expiration.
"How could you. How dare you, I had worked every day to make sure you did not do the same thing as me yet you have the nerve to tell me that you are pregnant. I don't even have to ask you if he stayed with you, now do I?" she asked the tone in her voice was nothing had grown up hearing. The sweet gentle voice of my mother was gone, what was left was pure disgust.
"Mum, please. I'm sorry, please forgive me." My voice shook.
"Why should I. Get the hell out of my house. I don't want to see you ever again you...slut!" She Screeched.
I bolted out of the house. She was right, she was fucking right. How dare I, how dare I risk something so intimate than to be my mothers child. I'm not her child. I am no one's child. I am an orphan, a orphan who is going to have a child when she her self is one.
