the next one is called “Goodbye” so..

I took a deep breath, eyes welling up. It felt like I couldn’t talk. I watched my parents give each other a concerned look and then gaze back at me, faces confused standing in our small, ugly living room. Despite the lump in my throat I said, “You should sit down,” They both did, my mother’s face looking more and more anxious.

 “You needed to talk to us,” My father said, “We’re listening.”

“Well,” I started, voice shaking. I flashed back to two months ago, when I saw the tiny pink plus sign. The day I cried for hours, the day when my worst fear came true, the day that felt like a nightmare.

“Yes,” My father reminded, impatient.

“I…I’m pregnant, and I’m keeping it.” I said the tears overflowing. I instinctively put my hand on my abdomen and looked down.

“Sweetie, no, you’re only sixteen.” I heard my mother gasp; I could picture the tears erupting from her eyes.

I looked up, “I’m so sorry mom, I didn’t mean to—”

“Who’s the father?” My father demanded, staring intently at me.

I looked back down at my hand resting on the small bump that would soon grow too big for me to fit into the jeans I was wearing now and kept silent.

My father stood up and grabbed my chin so I was forced to look at the anger in his eyes, “I said, who is the father?” he repeated, venom seeping into his voice, squeezing my chin so tight I could barely talk if I wanted to. If he had attempted to pay attention to my life he would know I have a boyfriend, but neither of my parents listened to me.

“Holly,” He warned

“Dad, I—” A  stinging slap clear across my face interrupted me, my father had let go of my chin and I found myself grabbing onto the coffee table to keep from collapsing on the ground.

I stood up, stumbling, my mother was now sobbing uncontrollably. My father stared at his hand, the hand that had just created a fresh bruise on the face of his daughter.

“Get out,” He commanded not even looking at me.

“What? Mom?” I stammered in between sobs.

“Get out!” I had never heard my father yell louder, I had never seen his face turn that red. I glanced at my mother, begging with my eyes that she would stand up for me. Hoping that for once she wouldn’t be afraid to. Her eyes dropped to the floor. I grabbed my backpack that was by the door and I ran out of my house, tears streaming down my face. I kept running until I reached his house. When I got to the little house on St. Thomas Road I stopped and just stared at the front door. I remembered the night that I arrived at this very same red door, and he had opened it before I even knocked. He swept me up, of my feet, and carried me to the couch both of us laughing. We sat there, I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face, I never could when I was with him. He leaned forward and his lips meet mine, and they never left. He only he stopped kissing me when I murmured the stupidest word in the English language, “Yes,” That was the night that I made the biggest mistake of my life, and that was the boy that made my worst fear come true, but for some reason, that didn’t matter. For some reason, I still loved him.

I knocked on the door, he answered right away, like always. Seeing my expression, and most likely the bruise arising on my cheek Jason asked, “You told them?” I nodded, falling into his chest, just wanting to stay embraced by him forever. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered into my ear, breath tickling my neck. I tried to step around him to go inside his house; the house that felt like more of a home to me than mine did. “Holly, you can’t,”

“What?” The lump in my throat was coming back.

“I don’t want my parents to know, they would kill me, you can’t come in. They’ll know something’s wrong.”

“Jason, my dad kicked me out, can’t you just ask—”

“I said no Holly,” Anger flashed in his eyes, it reminded me of my father.

“People who love each other help each other.” I said firmly. He stood in silence; on the door step of the house that I had basically lived in for the seven months that we had been together. “Jason…” I started voice catching on a new type of sob, a worse type of sob, looking deep into his brown eyes; he looked down at his feet, avoiding eye contact with me. “Jason, you said you loved me.”

“I’m sorry.” Jason stepped back into his house and closed the door, right in my face.

“You asshole!” I screamed at the top of my lungs at the red door. I screamed at that door until I could not scream anymore; and then I turned around and walked aimlessly down the street. I placed my hands on my abdomen again, sobs exploding from my chest and an unending amount if tears flowing from my eyes. I didn’t know where I was going, but I felt that as long as I had this baby it made sense. I would be the mother I never had and I would never let my child feel like I feel now.