How could it end like this?
She stumbled down the sloped hill, her pink Chuck Taylor hightops untied, her jacket unbuttoned, her eyes brimming with tears that she would never cry.
It’s my fault, all my fault.
She was still holding the pregnancy test in her hand, subconciously running her thumb over the little square area that showed the plus sign.
Why did I tell him, why? I could have waited for a while, and gotten used to the news myself first, but no, I told him right away. And now he’s gone, gone…
Emma felt the test slip from her hand, & it fell onto the grass. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed, kneeling on the damp Earth.
I have to tell me parents. How? But no, no, I can’t tell them, because it can’t be true. The test must be wrong. The test… where is it? Where?
She bent over frantically, searching, until her hand grasped the hard, cold plastic. Emma stared at it, & the longer she stared, the larger the plus sign got.
No, no… I’m young… I still have to live life.
This was her life now.