You come home to what seems like a regular day until you feel your stomach gurgle, your head spin, and your throat tense up. You run to the bathroom, all you see is vomit. What did I eat? You think to yourself, but you know your diet has been normal. An upsurge of remorse fills your being. Flashbacks to what has been the turning point of your life overwhelm you. Why did he do it to me? What was his sickly gain? Too many questions fill your mind and you decide to buy a test. Coming back from your trip to the store, your hands tremble with the plastic bag in hand. Walking to your bathroom is like walking to your demise, the six-foot deep bed that awaits you. Urinating onto this test that will decide whether your life as a child is over. You lift it from beneath you and wait for years. Positive. How could it be? How could this happen to me? Why did I have to be the one in those sad statistics I always looked at? You didn’t know that he wasn’t protected. You go to your dad, since your mom isn’t in the picture. Approaching him with narrow footsteps and somber eyes, he asks what’s wrong. You tell him what happened to you a little over a month ago. And then you tell him what’s happening to you, today. Breaking down, the sharp pain that fills your chest. The hiccuping of your words and closed in throat so you can’t swallow your tears. Your dad stands there, he cradles you and says it’s okay. He cries with you, you both hiccup and quiver in the thought of your pain.
          You can’t even imagine what your dad could be thinking. How could this happen to my little girl? Why didn’t she tell me? Where did I go wrong? Your dad loves you. Thank god. He tells you he can take you to the doctor tomorrow. Your head is in round-a-bouts. You know you couldn’t birth a baby due to your small stature. You know you cannot support a baby as a child yourself. You know you don’t want to give birth to the child of your rapist. The option you want to take is abortion, so you work up your tired vocals to tell him. You know he’ll support you, but how will he look at you the same? You tell him, teary-eyed and clenched fists because you don’t know what else to do. He hugs you once again, making sure you know it will be okay. Then you and your dad go to your rooms and try to rest but your minds race trying to connect the dots and solutions. Where’s the end of this labyrinth? You wake up from your sweat-drenched bed. You’re nervous and you have a right to be. Your dad is up already, making breakfast. You tread your heavy body to the bathroom, wash your sunken face, and brush your teeth. Getting dressed is a struggle, you can’t help but look at your belly and feel broken, but you get dressed regardless. Dad calls you and you shuffle rapidly to the table. You eat together, it’s silent until departing to the doctors. You and your dad drive over and he tries to fill the silent void with music. It doesn’t help. Taking those steps out of the car feeling like going to war. You wish with all of yourself that you could take what happened to you back. You sit down, waiting for your name to be called. The lady at the desk finally speaks your name and you start to break a sweat. Your stomach turns upside down and you feel cold, helpless. You sit down in the doctor’s office, and a kind-looking middle-aged lady approaches you. You’re thankful she's a woman, because speaking about this with a man would make all the matters worse. She asks you what you think of doing and you immediately respond with abortion. As soon as those words slip your mouth, her kind face plummets to the floor and all you can see is fear. Her face responds“I’m so sorry”. “You haven’t heard? Sweety, that’s now illegal, especially for a young lady your age.” You cannot comprehend the words that have come out of her mouth. Your eyes glaze over and your mind feels lightweight. She keeps saying something but you cannot hear her clearly. Your mouth agape, your stomach plundered to the ground, all you can think is “What do I do now?”.