#Chapter 18 The pain

I’m pregnant. I don’t remember who the father is, only that it was a one-night stand at a banquet. My father is furious, calling me the shame of the family. It’s a memory. My father spits at me. I don’t remember that happening. He was understandably mad, but as the memory replays in my mind, his anger is more than anything I’ve ever seen from him. Not a memory, I realize, but a nightmare, twisting dark events that once took place in reality into something far worse in my mind. In my father’s eyes, my pregnancy stripped me of any value in a family alliance, so he sends me overseas. Yet Emma, also pregnant out of wedlock, is sheltered and protected by our father. I remember, in the nightmare-memory, cherishing my unborn child, dreaming of creating a small family of my own. One that would look at me with love instead of disappointment. On the day of the delivery, I’m filled with hope and excitement. But the baby won’t come. I push and push, prepared to spend my last bre