Whenever people say to you that having children at a young age changes the way you live life instantaneously, they were not joking. Growing up all alone I saw many of my peers forgetting their dreams and goals in life for one night of fun and insanity, so all could be ruined by the unexpected child on the way. Some of them are cowards; they take the easy way out and murdered the unborn fetus. How is it that the innocent have to pay for the mistakes of the foolish? My parents were taken away from me by the mistake of another, why did I have to pay the price of losing someone I cherished? I promised my mom and dad who I believe watch over me in heaven that I would never do something so foolish as to bring a poor child into this world. I could not disappoint them like that. They had always told me that I had the power within me to follow my own dreams carve my own path to my destiny. If I put my heart and mind into anything, I could conquer the world. As I went through life in an orphanage, I had to experience hardship and struggle. But I knew that one day I would escape this life, into a better and happier one. My mind still wonders though, about those who kept their child. I've always wondered how they do it. How do single hard working mothers raise another being on their own? You may be wondering why I keep going back to that subject, but tell you the truth I don't know. I don't even know what had got me started on this topic. As I was looking out the window, I heard a voice,
"Miss, Miss Montreal? The doctor is ready to see you."
"Thank you, I'll be right there."
The entire time had been pondering and daydreaming, I had forgotten that I was at the clinic. The small white room looks so depressing all alone. The only people left in the waiting room were myself and an older looking couple sitting beside me. I slowly get up, grabbed my purse and start walking towards the nurse. The old couple just stared at me and smiled with this uncertain joy in the eyes. Before the door closed I turned and smiled back.
Ever since I could remember, I have despised doctors, especially after my parents had passed away. I remember waking up in the hospital all alone not having a clue what had happened. I remember the doctor had walked in and asked me If knew my name and if I could remember anything. The last thing I remember was being in the car with my parents. I don't remember where we were going just that we were really happy. The doctor told me I had been in coma for two weeks since the accident. A drunk truck driver had run straight into to us on the highway. He told me my parents had passed away immediately and that I had been seriously hurt. I couldn't even cry, how I could just wake one day and not have the people I loved the most with me had left me speechless. He said I was going to go live with my next living kin. What he didn't know I was literally alone now. My parents were only children and my grandparents from both sides had long past away. I was alone. Why didn't they just let me die? I felt like they had so much power over life and death. How is that they can save one person but not another. God must hate me for leaving me alone. That was eight years ago. I don't know why I was getting so worked up I was only getting my results after a general check-up. After what seemed like an eternity of nail-biting tension, the obnoxious doctor walked in with a big smile on his face.
"The results are in, congratulations Ezlie! You're having twins!"
God must hate me. He really must.