Little hope

The following days melted into each other in a haze of arguments and doctor visits. My mum was not going to give up her fight easily, and every day I was on the receiving end of her wrath, a constant onslaught of threats and worst-case scenarios. She told me some awful things in her frustration, and the more she began to realise I wasn’t going to give in, the angrier she got. It became easier to ignore her, though, and I became numb to her empty threats of throwing me out if I didn’t have an abortion. She was cold and calculated, but she wouldn’t make me beg on the streets with a newborn baby. That doesn’t mean I was just going to leech off her (another threat she used) – I would get a job and rent a flat when I could. Baby steps; it would take my time to work out all the kinks in this situation, but she really didn’t need to add to my worries. I managed, for the most part, to ignore her and stay resolute in my decision. I sat down and thought long and hard about what I was getting myself into, but I came to the same conclusion – I was keeping this child.

I was so grateful for the doctor’s non-judgmental attitude and constant friendliness. She gave me a lot of practical advice about how to cope and what to do, but she was also just a very genuinely nice person. It made it much easier having someone to talk to. This person should probably have been my mum, but I should never have got my hopes up that she would be supportive of me.

I couldn’t believe how quickly the summer holidays had passed. I had been almost entirely reclusive, most of my time being spent inside the murk of my own head, and being thrown back into normality was going to be a shock to the system. My friends didn’t know about what had happened, and I only hope the news wouldn’t spread around the school. It was probably an entirely futile hope; girls especially are always greedy for new gossip to chew on, especially gossip as juicy as mine. I decided to tell my best friend Eve what had happened when I returned to school, because I trusted her completely not to tell everyone, but I knew I had to be very selective with who I told if I wanted to keep it a secret. While I wasn’t ashamed of my decision, girls were cruel, and they would make my life a misery, so it was best to keep it to myself.

My hands shook as I packed my bag the night before school. How easily the routine of organising my things, making my lunch and sorting out my stationary was almost surreal to me. So much had changed in the last six weeks – my whole life, in fact. It would never be the same again, but this was my decision, and I had chosen to live with the consequences.

“Hey babe!” Eve threw herself at me as soon as I walked into the classroom. “I thought you’d died or something – you didn’t phone me or reply to my texts! How are you?” She pulled back from the rib-crushing hug to look at me, beaming.

“Fine, hun. I’m great.” I tried to sound as sincere as I could; I was honestly delighted to see her, but I couldn’t help it coming out a little sarcastic.

She surveyed me, one eyebrow cocked. I knew she knew something was up, but she just gave me a look like “We’ll speak later,” and began telling me about her holiday in Italy.

“And the food! Oh my god, it was wonderful. I would go back again in an instant just for that pasta!” She gushed endlessly, and I was grateful that she was doing this to take my mind of whatever was wrong.

“Did you do anything special?”

“No... not much, really. We didn’t go away this year. I was... ill for a while so I didn’t really get out a lot.”
She just nodded, but I knew she wasn’t being rude, she just knew I wouldn’t want to talk about something personal in front of everyone else.”

I was partly excited, and part terrified for lunch time, when I would tell her everything. She was anticipating some sort of confession, but I was positive nothing could have prepared her for what I was going to tell her.

“So, what’s up?” We were walking around the school grounds alone when she suddenly turned and asked.

“Can we... sit down somewhere?” I needed to sit down and face her.

We sat down opposite each other under one of the huge oak trees. I was visibly shaking as I tried to find the right words to begin my stories.

“Don’t worry, babe. You can tell me anything.” She took my hand in hers, but her eyes were wide with apprehension.

“You know... you know the party at Claire’s house on the first day of the holidays?”

“Yes...”

“I was... I got quite, well, drunk, I suppose, and I don’t really remember what happened, it was all a sort of blur, I don’t even know, and I must have fallen unconscious, because I woke up, and I was... I was raped, Eve.”

She gasped and immediately enveloped me in a hug.

“You poor, poor thing. I’m so sorry, you don’t deserve something like this. Aww, baby, you’ll be ok.” For the first time since I first knew I’d been raped, I cried. My shoulders heaved and I sobbed pathetically into her shoulder. All the emotion of the past weeks I had kept bottled up inside me burst through, and she was on the receiving end of my helplessness. I had to finish the story, however, so I tried to pick myself back up.

“Wait... that’s not all. I found out... a few days after I was... raped, I found out I was pregnant. I’m pregnant, Eve, by a rapist I don’t even remember.” My voice broke on the last syllables as I wrung my hands.

“God, oh my god. No, hun, this can’t happen to you. Are you sure?” Tears were now streaming down her face as we sat clasping each other’s hands.

“Yes, I’m sure. This was five weeks ago.”

“Did you... have you...?”

“No, I’ve not had an abortion. I, I don’t want to.” This was the moment I was most worried about; she could so easily turn round and say I was a stupid idiot, and her judgement meant a lot more to me than my mother’s.

“You want to keep the baby?” She looked directly at me, perfectly calm now.

“Yes. I just, I just think it’s the right thing to do.”

“Ok.” I looked up at her. There was absolutely no condescension in her face, and it reminded me of why I loved her. She was so accepting and non-judgemental of everyone she spoke to, and would respect my decision, regardless of whether she agreed with it.

She would speak to me more seriously about the future later, I knew, but for now, I just needed comforting. After the initial sympathy from my mother, which quickly dissolved when she realised I wasn’t going to do what she wanted, I was shown very little affection, and I only the realised how much I needed it. It felt very reassuring to simply have someone on your side, no matter what.