I sat in my bed still crying from my father’s reaction to the news. He has knocked on my door repeatively, asking for his forgiveness, but I was too exhausted to get up.

So instead I continued lying in my bed, thinking of how depressing my life was at that time. Andrew had broken up with me for something he had done, he had caused. I was pregnant which in my school was the very reasoning behind the label of slut. And my dad hated me. What could make this get any better? Should I start cutting myself again? Maybe.

i know what I’d do. I’ll go and get an abortion, easy as that. True, I don’t like the idea of abortion, but I’m flipping thirteen years old. What else was I suppose to do?! I mean, right now it doesn’t even look anything like a human I bet. So I won’t feel any sort of attachment towards it anyway.

And then…I felt something move in my stomach. No, I felt someone move in there.

There was someone living inside of me. My someone.