Stumbling out of the bathroom in a daze, I collapsed onto the bed. The force of this action expelled the breath from my lungs in a harsh whoosh. My hands reflexively cradled my still-flat stomach. A tsunami of emotions threatened to drown me. I looked down at the thin plastic stick in my trembling hands. It felt heavy with the two pink lines glaring back at me with mocking clarity. This couldn't be real. It just couldn't. A cold sweat broke out across my forehead as I blinked hard. I was willing the symbols to rearrange into a different message. I wanted any message, other than the one that was about to upend my entire world. But no matter how many times I squeezed my eyes shut and opened them again, the terrible truth remained immutable. Positive. Pregnant. Me. Expecting a baby. Fear coiled through my veins like icy venom as the weight of this new reality crashed over me. How could I be pregnant at fifteen? Images of the whispers and stares I'd endure ran through my mind, not to mention the judgment from our close-knit church community. Quickly, these thoughts flashed across my mind . It was more than I could fathom bearing. Guilt swirled in my gut. It was thick and acidic. I'd disappointed everyone, from my parents to God, Himself. The vows I'd pledged to remain pure until marriage now seemed like sandcastles in the tide. These castles were washed away by one careless act.
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