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Rated: 13+ · Other · Emotional · #1599708
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“Nooo!”
I woke up screaming. I had been dreaming that my mom and younger brother had died in a car accident. It was like a dream I’d had before. Everything was black and white, except for my mom, brother, and the driver of the other vehicle. Instantly, my heart raced. I remembered the other dreams. My sister had been crushed by a wall that had fallen down when I was four. My dad had fallen out of his boat and had his head ripped off by the motor. And now, the rest of my family was next. I tore out of bed and flew down the stairs, jumping half of them. When I got to the kitchen, there was a note on the table: “Gone to drive your brother to day care. See you later. Love you, Mom.”
“Noooo!” I screamed. “MOM! NO!”
I broke down, and cried. I had lost all of them. I lay on the floor, sobbing, my whole body shaking, for years it felt like, when I heard someone come in the kitchen.
“Mariah?” they said. I stopped crying, and looked up. It was a cop. A lump grew in my throat as my heart was ripped out.
“No. No, this isn’t happening,” I sobbed. “No. Please, don’t tell me!”
“I’m very sorry to tell you that-”
My shout interrupted him. More tears took me under.

Four years later.

“Happy Birthday, Mariah,” I sang under my breath. I was eighteen. I’d been living on my own for two years. I’d finally gotten over having nothing for family. I’d lived at a foster home where I was abused and raped the whole time. I lived in a small apartment with a “friend”. She was a lesbian and always had other girls over, and tried to pull moves on me alot. I was tough, but sometimes gave in. I had a 78% average in school, which had just ended. I had a small group of close friends, and a steady boyfriend of three years. And, two months ago, I had found out I was pregnant. I was excited for my baby-to-be, but scared. What if I lost it? What if my dreams killed it? Or what if, being genetically part of me, it killed me? I had talked to Jordan, my boyfriend, and he said that I didn’t need to worry, we would be okay. Until three weeks ago when he’d gotten accepted into a university 900 miles away. I couldn’t go with him, and so the baby and I would be alone together. And I didn’t know what to do.
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