them for help with the rent, to help with something. It takes every ounce of pride I have left but I can’t do this alone. Babies cost money and they have money. I don’t.
His father slams the phone down and when his mother calls back, she tells me, “It’s your fault he’s dead. If he hadn’t met you, this never would have happened.” What’s worse is… she’s right.
Everything goes to shit. I can’t pay the bills. I can’t even afford bread. Sasha gave me a hundred pounds but it’s not enough to cover the electricity bills. My pay cheque came in yesterday and that’s barely enough to cover the gas.
Chicago’s gave me five hundred pounds to help. They collected the money from staff and customers to put towards expenses. I put it all in the bank and pray for help. For strength. For courage.
It doesn’t come.
Even if I use this five hundred to pay the bills, I’m still going to lose the house. I refuse to go on benefits yet and, even if I did, there wouldn’t be enough to cover the rent and utilities. But this is our house. We decorated it together!
I don’t want to lose it.
But I do.
Two weeks go by and I lose the house. Fortunately, considering the circumstances, they don’t sell my things. They put them in a warehouse for me to collect when I get a new place, so I go to my mum’s, thinking she’ll take me in considering the circumstances, even though she hasn’t so much as texted me since she found out I was pregnant.
The door opens, my mum takes one look at me and then sneers in disgust, “He’s left you.”
“What?” I gasp, tears pooling in my eyes. “No… mum, he’s dead.” How has she not heard?
She looks shocked but it doesn’t last. “And now you want to come home?”
“We had a house, jobs, school… I can’t do it on my own.” I admit, my tears spilling over. “I need you.”
“I warned you. You swore you wouldn’t get pregnant. We worked our arses off, we worked day and night to get you into University.”
I look into her cold, cruel eyes. “This wasn’t my fault. I can still go back. I just need help.”
“I never wanted this for you,” she says with a frown. “I can’t help you, Gwen. This is your mess. I dealt with my mess and now you need to deal with yours. I’m disappointed in you.”
“I can’t help what happened!” I shout, my hand pressed to my swollen belly. “Please, mum, I don’t have anywhere to stay.”
She takes a step back and just as I think she’s going to invite me inside, she shakes her head and says, “I’m sorry. I can’t help you.”
I bang on the door and I keep banging until my fists hurt. She doesn’t answer. She doesn’t even glance. How can she be so cruel? None of this is my fault.
“Mum! Please! Please!” I sink to the ground and bury my face in my hands. My sobs tear through me like a chainsaw through paper.
I’ve lost everything. I have no home, no family and no Caleb.
After a few more minutes of accepting my fate, I head to my car and drive until I can’t anymore.
Even Sasha can’t have me; she lives in a hall of residence. I’d be allowed there for one night. Just one.
I’m stuck, completely stuck.
I have to drop out of university. It’s already paid so I can go back and finish my course in the future, which is a relief. What’s not a relief is the fact I have to quit my placement that I worked so hard to get, but the café I used to work at have given me my job back. The problem is, I’m going to be huge soon.
I’m pregnant and I have nowhere to live and no money. There are no spaces at the closest women’s refuge shelters, plus I don’t want to go to one of those. Not that they’re bad, I just want what’s familiar.
So here I sit, a sob story, in the front of my car outside of my old house, photos and clothes and other bits and pieces sitting on the back seat in huge boxes.
At least I still have the car… for now.
I rest my head on the steering wheel and cry. It’s been a while since I’ve cried, but now I’ve started I can’t stop. It hurts… it hurts so bad.
I’m never going to see him again.
I’ll never get