There's really no way to summarise this. Just give it a try anyway, please?
I left the swanky tiled bathroom and went back into my hotel room. My mind was a mess, no thought staying still in the numbness. I shoved the white stick to the back of one of the drawers. I couldn't risk anyone else finding out before I had even told the father about it. Oh, God. A sudden realization washed over me; I couldn't tell Ryan. Ryan had a reputation to uphold! I knew that if I told him I was pregnant that he would just ditch me and the baby so he could keep his image, whatever it was. He was never going to support me-Us!
There was only one thing I could do at that point. So I ran away.
I spent the rest of the day packing my bags. It was done as neatly as possible, giving me plenty of chance to weight out my options. All I could think about was the little life growing inside me. I was only eighteen years of age. I had to no job, I had little life experience. I was hardly capable of taking care of myself, let alone a baby as well. Ryan wouldn't help me, that was for sure. I could of asked him to stay with me, his answer would have been no. I could have asked him for some emotional and financial support, I would have gotten the same answer.
I would never have been able to place that much pressure on my best friend Hazel-I couldn't bear that. She was young and this wasn't her fault. My parents were, without a doubt, going to disown me. I knew what they were like when I had simply told them that I was dating Ryan, who, as it so happened, was in a famous band.
"HOW UNNATURAL!" My mother had shouted. Her nose turned in the air, her back facing me.
"Why would you do such a thing, Amanda? Bring dishonor to this family!" My father had joined in. He sat on his chair, whiskey in hand, throwing it down his throat as if he would never taste it again.
I had no one I could turn to. No one. I felt so alone in the world as I fell onto the bed, my face crashing into the feathered pillows. I felt so alone, yet my hands were almost instinctively rubbing the lower patch on my stomach. Where was I going to go? A termination was out of the question. I don't believe in killing my own flesh and blood. Even if it was half of the father it may possibly never know! The only reasonable thing was giving the baby up. But, I couldn't do that, either. Even if I was only five weeks pregnant, I still loved that baby growing inside of me. I felt connected to it, like it needed me as much as I needed it. What was I going to do?
As I stared up at the ceiling, a brain wave hit me. I could go live with my Aunt Sophie! She was my Aunt from my mother's side. However, they didn't speak. When I was a baby my parents had decided my life for me-I was to become I lawyer. It was the family trade for the most part, I came from a direct line of successful lawyers. Aunt Sophie wasn't happy about that. She believed that I had the right to make my own decisions in life and that it wasn't up for my parents to decided just hours after I had been born. Everyone had a huge fight over the whole idea and Aunt Sophie got tossed out from the family tree. Disowned as I would have been soon enough. She was the one person I knew I could turn to for support.
The bouncy mattress sprung from the release of my weight as I sat up. I had only ever dialed the number once before. That was to tell my Aunt Sophie that my Grandmother had died. She hadn't kept in contact with her, either. No one was going to bother to call her initially, but I had suggested it.
"Have you called Aunt Sophie?" I had asked my mother, my perfect dark auburn curls dangling around my face in pigtails. It had been picture day and I was only six. My mother had given me the news as I had walked through the door. And, not to sound like a spoilt bitch, but I hadn't really cared. My grandmother had never liked me and I had never liked her. Why should I have cared?
"Hello?" A sweet voice came from the other end of the phone line. My mouth went dry and I had no idea what to say. "Hello? Who is this?"
"Hello." I whispered.
"Who is this?" Aunt Sophie repeated. I coughed to clear my throat and then continued, my mind hopefully knowing what it wanted to say and connecting to my mouth to say it. Because I had no idea what I was doing.
"Hi, Aunt Sophie. It's Amanda." I swear I heard a excited gasp escape her lips on the other end. How could she not? She doted on me when my birthday and Christmas rolled around. We never really had a chance to speak properly with my parents monitoring my every move I made, but this was definitely a time that I needed to lean on my Aunt Sophie for support.
"AMANDA!" She practically screamed down the phone. "How are you, baby?" Ha, baby. Oh, how ironic. Even the word made bile build up in my throat. Or maybe that was just more morning sickness on the way. "What can I help you with, Darling?"
I took a deep breath, scared out of my wits. My mind was still racing, my palms were starting to sweat and the moment I had feared had come. I had to tell someone the truth eventually, "Aunt Sophie, could I stay with you for a little while?" I was trying to avoid the subject.
"Why do you need to stay with me, Amanda?" Well, that ship sunk fast.
"I-I," I took another deep breath. I could feel tears starting to brim in the corner's of my eyes. And I never cry. I never cried when my goldfish died, I never cried when I walked into the lamppost on my way home form school, I never cried when my dreadful cousin Rory had told me that the government had passed a law stating all little girls with pigtails were to be killed. "I'm pregnant." I cried quietly. I felt like shouting it out, letting my heart pour with it, but I couldn't risk any peeping toms finding out and spreading the news about me. This was a secret and it was going to stay a secret.
"Amanda, baby, are you okay? Of course you can stay with me! Have you told your parents yet? Who's the father? Is he coming too? How long are you going to need to stay here? Of course you can stay as long as you need to, sweetie! How far along are you? Do you know the sex, yet? Are you going to be able to take care of a baby? You have my full support, Amanda!" Aunt Sophie bombarded me with questions, typical of her, but I had no idea how to answer. I hadn't told my parents, I hadn't told Ryan. I needed to stay with her for as long as I could and I was barely seven weeks gone. My life felt like a downward spiral from that moment when I had missed my period. My heart had started beating and vomit had raised in my throat. I had dashed to the nearest bathroom and then dashed to the nearest drug store.
"I'll tell you everything when I arrive." I simply replied instead. "Bye." I hung up and let the tears stream down my cheeks. My life couldn't get any worse from that moment on.
After wiping away the mascara stains and making myself look far more presentable, I pulled all my things together and tightly locked my two suitcases. Outside the sun was starting to set, it must have been about eight at night.
I took a step into the hallway, double checking that it was empty first. I pulled all my suitcases out after me and then turned to lock the door. Before I knew it, a pair of ice cold hands were over my eyes and I instantly felt breathless. I dropped the room key to the floor and bit on my lip just at the very touch of human contact.
"Guess who?" A quiet voice whispered in my ear. Ryan. I didn't reply, just pushed his hands away from my eyes. If there was one person I never wanted to see again, it was him. "Going somewhere, Amanda?" He asked, scanning my suitcases with his beautiful honey orbs.
I thought for a moment, trying to think of the perfect excuse. I couldn't tell him the truth. I was never going to tell him the truth. I had no idea how to and the words stuck in my throat at the very thought of it.
"Family emergency." Lie. Ryan believed me, though, which made me worry even further. He pulled me into his strong, yet skinny arms, my head pressed perfectly into his chest. I breathed him in, wanting that to be the way I remembered him. I wanted to remember him as someone who loved me.
NO! I pushed that thought out of my mind. If Ryan loved me then he would have been supporting me and our-MY child. I didn't want to remember him, as soon as I left, he was going to disappear from my mind for the rest of my miserable life.
"I'm sorry." He instantly thought someone was dying, dead or severely injured. That was just the way his mind worked, I guessed. I didn't mind. I was trying not to focus too hard on anything he was saying or doing. A struggle in itself, I believe.
"It's okay, not your fault." I said, breaking the hug, but not looking at him. He pulled my head up by my chin and I felt tears burning to escape in my eyes. He never mentioned it. Either he was overlooking the way I was staring at him or he thought the tears were simply for the family member whose crisis I had created.
"I'll see you when I come home." He told me. I smiled, it was the only thing I could do.
Ryan planted a passionate kiss on my lips, then my nose, then my forehead. He rested his chin on the crown of my head, forcing my eyes to shut and my head to fall perfectly back into his chest once again. "I love you."
"I love you, too." I wanted those words to be the last between us. If it was going to be the last time I ever saw him, I wanted them to be the words I could hold dear to my heart if the moment ever arose. Before we could say anything else, I grabbed the suitcases and ran down the hallway to the elevator. Ryan waved goodbye and I did so back, watching as the cold, metal doors shut him out of my life. For good.