Pregnant and Homeless

The rain had no mercy.

It slapped the city like it was punishing every soul in it. People with homes ran faster. Those with cars locked their doors. Those with umbrellas hid under shop roofs.

But Amara didn't have any of those.

Her pregnancy eight months and heavy sat like a stone under her soaked dress as she pushed her back against the wall beside the abandoned bus terminal. Her breath trembled. Hunger bit her. Fear slept beside her every night like a husband she didn't choose.

She didn't know what hurt more...
The cold.
The baby kicking inside her.
Or the memory of the man who promised her love but left her with nothing no house, no name, no future.

She looked up at the sky and whispered:

"God, if this child must enter the world through suffering... then at least let me survive to see them open their eyes."

And the night swallowed her prayer.