A Spit In The Face

Valerie stumbled out of the taxi and paid before going into the house. Her face was as pale as a ghost's and her body was trembling slightly as she fought to hold back the tears that threatened to pour down her cheeks.

She raised her hand instinctively to wipe her face when she felt her face heat up. Of course, the tears had fallen down in drops too heavy for her to manage. She covered her face and slumped to the floor and poured out her soul.

She could still hear the doctor's voice in her head as he smiled and handed her the test result. "Congratulations! You're pregnant." He had said.

Her face had twisted and become featureless the moment she heard that. The doctor had asked out of concern, "you don't want to keep it?"

She had sat there only knowing how to shake her head. Why was she congratulated? Why did he seem so happy for her? Why was she so miserable?

Didn't they know that she was suffering? Didn't they realise that this was a curse? Didn't they see her pains? Why did it come to this?

She subconsciously touched her belly. A baby was growing in there. It was supposed to make her happy but it didn't. This child belonged to a rapist. Someone who didn't spare any thoughts in kidnapping her at night and ravaging her body as he wanted while she was blindfolded.

How could she look at this child in the future knowing that it would constantly remind her of what she had been through?

It was hard. It was difficult….

….

Oliver returned home today with a simple bottle of wine. He wasn't celebrating anything but he felt he needed to get a drink somewhere that wasn't a bar. He didn't buy any food today. He still had a deep impression from Valerie throwing the food he bought away.

'Maybe she thinks I'll poison her…' he thought with a shrug. It didn't bother him anymore. It wasn't his fault that things turned out this way. He was doing his best to be kind to her but she was being difficult. Then again, who wouldn't?

In her eyes, he was a rapist. Oliver even found it hard to convince himself that he wasn't the one who did it. He sighed and pushed the door open after unlocking it with his keys.

She wasn't sitting on the sofa watching TV as usual. She was sitting on the cold hard floor with knees pulled to her chest and hands wrapped around them as if she was trying to become as small as possible.

He frowned for a bit then decided that it wasn't his problem. She was always like this. Either she sat on the sofa with lost eyes or she was busy ignoring him to hell and back. He was used to it. He glanced at her one more time before moving past her.

"We need to talk."

Oliver stopped then turned to confirm that he wasn't imagining things. Was she really asking him to talk with her? What did she want? He could imagine the various things she had to say to him. He could imagine her throwing insults at him and telling him how much she hated him.

He stood there with a stupefied expression on his face. "Are you talking to me?"

Valerie turned her head to him but her eyes were bloodshot. "You aren't deaf are you?"

Oliver wanted to glare at her and maybe throw a few lines of swear words but he controlled himself. "What is this about?"

"I'm pregnant." She said in one breath. Her voice was raspy and broken. She didn't know why she resolved to let him know. She had already made up her mind about what to do with the child. She guessed that it might be that she wanted to see his reaction when she told him or maybe she just wanted to spite him.

The bottle in Oliver's hand slipped and crashed on the floor. It shattered into tiny pieces and spilled red everywhere. His body trembled and his lips quivered. His face paled slightly and his knees became weak and he fell to the floor.

This was a nightmare. This was horrifying. He wiped his face hoping he would wake up from that bad dream or that she'd just say that it was a really bad joke meant to make him feel worse than he already did.

The look on her face told him it was real. She was really pregnant!

"Will you keep it?" he asked in a voice that came out almost as a whisper.

"What do you think?"

Oliver sighed not knowing what to think. "Keep it."

Valerie snapped towards him with a bewildered expression on her face. She was red from anger. How dare he ask her to keep the child?

"Why should I keep it?" she continued in a calm voice.

"Because…" Oliver struggled to find words to describe his reasons. "I want to know."

Valerie scoffed. "I've decided to terminate it."

It was Oliver's turn to whiplash at her with fierce eyes. "I won't let you do that."

"And what will you do to stop me?"

Oliver fell silent. It was bad enough as it was and he was really out of options. He didn't want to deal with this. He wanted that baby to be alive. He wanted that baby to be a kind of a trophy so that when he finally proved his innocence it would remind him of the struggle.

He wanted to raise the rapist's kid and rub it in their face. He didn't know why he wanted this but he felt like it was enough justification for his shame.

"I will not allow you to abort the baby."

Valerie gave him a deep look and sighed. "Was this what you wanted all along?"

Oliver paused and considered her question. "I had nothing to do with your rape."

Valerie wiped her face, her anger reaching newer heights. She jumped to her feet and without a thought, spat at Oliver's face like the disgusting pig that he was. She stormed to the room and shut the door.

Oliver didn't bother to wipe his face or get angry. His heart was further broken. He looked at the broken wine bottle and sighed before grabbing his head with both hands and yanking hard.

Maybe if he hadn't been drunk that night… if only he had not gone out that night.