What if You Were Happy?

Chapter 1


All my life I've believed one simple thing: people cause their own problems. It's as simple as everyone dies one day or Cinderella lives happily-ever-after—it's just one of those facts of life. Or at least I thought so. When you think about it, you'll see where I'm coming from. I mean, people put stuff out there, violent horrible shit that no one needs to see, but people do see it, then repeat it. I'm not saying that I think violent video games should be banned, or no one should be allowed to see R rated movies; I'm just saying that you shouldn't expect someone to refrain from violence when at the same time you're sending the message that it's ok.

Really, though, it's not just violence. So many things, from simply lying and teasing all the way to rape, result from people. And so many people are out there saying that I can believe in this stupid shit, but until I've lived it, I have no clue what I'm talking about. But just to let you know: I do know what I'm talking about because it has happened to me.

You see, I'm fifteen years old and two months ago I was raped. Two months later, I realized I was pregnant. I'm not saying I think I brought it on myself, and I'm not saying anyone else in the world suffering brought it on themselves, I'm just saying that people affect people, that the person who raped me had been affect by people up until the moment he did it.

Maybe one day things will change; maybe they never will. But everything changed for me on that fateful day. I'd taken three pregnancy tests, assuring myself I was mistaken. But they all read positive, and I was left to deal with the aftermath. And my little belief that people cause their own problems allows me to move past this and accept it, even if it is hard, because I need to know that people can change.


After everything was over but before we found out I was pregnant, my dad was super pissed at the guy that raped me, even though he got what he deserved: jail time. My mom was just upset, for me and everyone involved; she cried a lot after it happened. My brother Jordan, who was four years older than me, felt a lot of things, but especially anger. It worried me how angry he was. And then Kevin, who's the biggest sweetheart in the world and my oldest brother, simply felt bad for me. He was constantly asking me if I was ok, and came home as often as he could from the college to spend time with me.

They all helped me get over it, and even though it stayed with me and I had some conflicting emotions, I was luckier than some girls and was able to put it behind me rather quickly. In fact, I was almost completely over it when I realized something wasn't right with me. I was feeling sick in the morning, my jeans were a smidge too tight even though I'd been eating less than usual, and I swear I was supposed to have my period two weeks ago. That was when I knew it: I was pregnant. I didn't want to tell anyone, so I went to the store myself and I got three pregnancy tests. I may have been over doing it, but I just wanted to be sure, and I knew one test wouldn't convince me. But, a day later, I had the answer three times over in front of me. Sighing, I knew I now had the problem of telling my parents.

So I did the logical thing: I told my best friend Stacie first. We'd known each other for four years and were as close as I'd ever felt to someone not related to me. She was calm and fairly understanding, so I figured she'd help me out with the whole thing, including how to tell my parents. I walked slowly to her house, noticing how the leaves were changing color, the reds, browns, oranges, and yellows smeared together over the trees as if someone had taken a paint brush and run it through them. Soon it would snow and maybe we'd even have a white Christmas this year.

When I reached her house, I rang the doorbell, scared of how she would take it. After a few minutes, she answered the door and smiled her dimpled smile. Her cute pixie hair and face fit her petite body perfectly and I couldn't help but think how I'd never look like her, especially now.

When she saw how down I looked, she was instantly worried. "Kaylie? What's wrong?"

"I need to tell you something." She nodded and led me up the stairs to her jumbled room, with all of its posters and drawings. Stacie was an amazing artist and had won more than a few contests with her drawings. I especially love the one she did of us. We'd taken a picture a few weeks before she did it; we were at the fair, her short hair had blue in it and my black hair was braided. Twenty or more bracelets dangled from the arm she had draped across my shoulders; my own around hers was bare. We'd leaned our heads together and were both smiling, her dimples showing. She'd drawn it perfectly and entered it in the art contest, winning first prize in both her age group and the over all. It was also the only framed one in the room, hanging over her desk with pride. It never failed to make me smile, even this time. It gave me courage to turn to her and say, "Stace, I have some…news." I wasn't sure if I should say bad news or not. I was still conflicted about how I felt. The fact that I was only fifteen made me want to say bad news, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. Kids had never been a set thing in my future; they were more of a 'if I have them, I have them' type thing, while other things, like marrying, traveling, and becoming a famous journalists were definitely in my future.

Stacie was studying me, also wondering what type of news it was. "What is it, Kay?" She asked anxiously.

I took a deep breath, glanced over the desk at the picture for encouragement, and told her. When she heard the news, she simple stood there, staring at me. I wondered if she was in denial or shock, or even felt anything at all. After a minute or so, she stammered out, "How—when? Kaylie?"

She was definitely shocked, and a little confused. "Stacie, honey, sit down." I guided her to a chair and kneeled in front of her, taking her hands. "I'm pregnant, kay? From the rape."

She stared at me, trying to process what I was saying. "From the rape?"

"Yes." I talked slowly, like someone trying to get a child to understand something.

She was quiet for a minute before she asked, "You're going to abort it, right?"

It was my turn to be quiet. I hadn't really thought about aborting it. I mean, that was obviously the best decision, but did I really want to kill my baby? Even if I was just fifteen and the only reason I had it was from being raped, did I want to get rid of it? Slowly, I said, "No…I don't think so, Stace."

"What?! Kaylie, you have to abort it! You can't have a kid!" She cried, jumping up from the chair.

"Stacie, I'm not going to kill my own baby!" I yelled back, standing to face her.

"You only have it because some creep raped you!" She clamped a hand over her mouth as soon as the words were out of her mouth, but the damage was done. I turned slowly and walked to the door of her room. Glancing back, I said quietly, "Stace, I'd thought that out of everyone, you'd be there for me—support me, understand me. I was obviously very wrong." Then I opened the door and left.


The next person to tell wasn't my parents, as you would think, but my brother Kevin. As I said before, he's the biggest sweetheart you'll ever meet. I was afraid of telling my parents and my other brother Jordan mainly because they all got angry so easily, I'd hate to see how they would take this news.

I planned to tell Kevin and ask him how I should broach this to my parents, and then tell Jordan and my other best friend, Simon. Slowly, I walked back home, wondering exactly what I would say. With Stacie, I'd known the straight truth would be best, lay it out flat and hope she understood, which she obviously hadn't. But with Kevin, I knew it'd almost be worse to flat out tell him. I'd have to slowly let him know and hope he didn't freak.

Sighing, I pushed open the door, glad to see that Kevin's truck was in the driveway. "Kevin!" I called, hopping up the stairs. If I knew him, he'd either be in his room or mine. He popped his head out of my room and I gave a small wave. He smiled and opened the door, waiting for me to come in.

Once we were sitting on my bed, I said, "Kevin?"

He rolled over to face me. "Yeah, Kaylie?"

"You know how everything happened almost two months ago…with the rape and all?" I asked awkwardly.

He grew serious and sat up, looking me in the eye. "Yeah?"

I tried to hold his gaze, but couldn't and glanced at the floor. "Well…you know I'm ok with it, right? Like, I've accepted what happened and moved on."

"Yeah, I know." He didn't see where this was going, and honestly, I didn't either. But I kept at it, trying to reach the real reason for all this.

"Well…I'm also ok with anything that would happen because of it, you know?"

His eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. "Uh, no, not really. What do you mean?"

"Well…let's say because the guy obviously didn't use protection…I got…" I couldn't say it. I really couldn't.

His eyes grew wide anyways and he asked, "Oh god, Kay, you…you're…"

He'd guessed. "Yeah, I'm pregnant, Kev." I glanced at him from the corner of my eye, waiting anxiously.

He was staring at me, surprised. "Kaylie…you just…you said…you're pregnant?" I nodded slowly. "Babe…are you sure?" I nodded again. "Well, without a pregnancy test, you can't really know."

"Kev, I know for sure; I took three tests."

"Fuck." I sighed and flopped back on my bed. Kevin looked at me pityingly. "Oh, Kaylie, I'm so sorry."

"It's ok. Really." I tried to sound positive, so he'd know I was ok with it. I'd thought more and more, and I knew that all of this was fate, and I was supposed to have this kid.

"But, Kay…you're pregnant. And you're only fifteen." He sounded like he was trying to make me realize this, but I already had. And I knew that no matter what, I wasn't getting an abortion. I couldn't. If this was all fate, then getting an abortion was the wrong thing to do.

"You think I should get rid of it," I said quietly. I had to know what he thought, especially if he was mad or disappointed with me.

He slid over on the bed and pulled me into his arms, my head leaning against his chest. "No, Kaylie." I looked up at him, surprised. He smiled slightly. "I think you should do what you think is best."

I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed him tightly; did I say how much I loved my brother?

"Thank you," I whispered.

He simply hugged me back.


A/N: Ok, new story! I already have a few chapters written, so if I get good feed back, I'll update quickly. So let me know what you think :)