A Decision

"Where were you all day? School ends at 3pm," my mom asks me in a stern tone, there's sweat glowing on her fair forehead.

I keep fidgeting with my fingers, trying to figure out what to say. Saying that I went to a friend's house is the safest option here.

"I went to Samlin's house," I say slowly, trying to make it believable. "Sorry, mom, I wanted to call you, but my phone was dead. And their house is kinda ancient, so they don't use digital phones there."

My mother eyes me up and down for a moment, "What did you do there? And why do you look so pale?"

"We had a group project. And uh...about being pale, I guess it's just iron deficiency."

My mom inhales deeply, then sits down on the bed beside me. She gently takes my hands on hers and utters, "Anastasia, I can feel that there's something horribly wrong. Please tell me the truth. Don't forget that I'm your mother, you can tell me anything."

How can I tell the truth with my own mouth?

Oh God, I'm exhausted.

I slowly stand up, ignoring my pain igniting in my body, then walk up to the clothes bucket. After a moment of hesitation, I pull out the torn jeans.

"Here, mom," I drop the jeans on her lap.

Then I drop on my knees, on the floor, sobbing. My body shakes, shivers, breaks, crumbling to a human pile. I cry, covering my face with knees, while I hear my heavy, hazy breathing.

At that moment, I hear someone's footsteps, entering in my room. I look up and see a blurry Alex. He has been growing his our hair out and I bet he's pretty famous at his college, even though he's just a sophomore.

Then I tilt my head to my mom, who's sitting motionless with my jeans in her hands, staring at the torn and bloody stains.

"What's the fuss about?" he asks, and as he comes closer, I smell a vile cigarette scent coming from him. And it doesn't smell like just cigarette.

My mom says nothing.

And I say nothing.

"What, you got your period or something? What's the big deal?" he crunches his nose looking at the bloody jeans. "That's disgusting, bro. Why you showing it off like that? Mom?"

I sometimes really hate my brother.

He has never done anything for me without any purpose. Like, he would buy milk for Phoenix, and in exchange, he would throw some dirty clothes of him, for me to wash.

"Alex, I'll talk to you later. Leave now," my mom finally speaks up. She looks so broken.

I wipe off my tears. What am I crying for? It's not like I did anything wrong. But I can't help but feel guilty. How didn't I see it coming? That my crush is a monster.

"Ah, c'mon, why can't I join your girly session?" he laughs menacingly, then snatches the jeans from my mom's hand. "Wait, why is it torn like that? You fought with someone or something?"

"Someone did something horrible to me," I slowly say, I can't bring myself to say that cursed word.

"Who is it? That golden hair pretty boy? I heard rumors that you're fondling with him. Huh, what were you thinking? Now you gonna be pregnant. What the heck?" Alex keeps blabbering without any break. "People are gonna call this house 'the illegimate child villa'. Really, Ana, I didn't expect this from you. I was gonna start a business with my frens. What are they gonna say if they come to know this?"

Alex is really tall, like six feet and a few inches more. And my mom is like five feet three. So she struggles a lot to raise on her tiptoes to reach him, but then she grabs his collar and slaps him.

Slaps him really hard. Even I can see the fingers mark on his cheek.

"W-what? Mom?" he stammers, dumbfounded.

"Get out," my mom orders.

He throws me a disgusted look and storms out of the room.

I wrap my hands around her legs, then rest my head on her knee.

"What am I going to do now, mom?"

She glances down at me with teary eyes, then hardens her face. But when she speaks, her voice is incredibly soft, as if she knows that I need comfort and compassion now.

She pats my head gently, "Everything is going to be alright, Ana."

That's the fakest sympathy sentence ever. But for the first time in my life, I actually want to believe it.

I take a warm shower, staring at the water stream as the bloody stains from me wash away. Physical pain isn't a major factor for me, but I wonder if I'm ever gonna recover from the mental pain. And as that bastard has enough property and reputation, I'm not ever gonna get proper justice. And just because I'm a girl, everyone will eventually blame it on me. My mom said that I have to be strong. She also said that reporting this matter to police wouldn't get me back what I lost.

I gaze at my reflection at the full body mirror, not caring about the water droplets wetting the carpet. I slowly run my hand over the bruises on my stomach. Am I really gonna be pregnant? I was senseless most of the time, so I didn't see him put on anything.

I swallow painkillers and lie down with some heat pads. But no amount of painkillers can make me forget the endless trauma.

The next few days are a daze of doctor's appointments, bandages over my body, my mom's patient behaviour and Alex's toxic nature. Though he predicted one thing right.

I'm going to be a mother!

After a week of my world dying, at night, I pull out a card from a bag. The bag which that man gave me. The card has a name and address on it.

And I make the hardest decision of my life.

I run away from home.