Unknown Pregnancy
Episode 7
The days that followed were a blur for Sandra. She tried her best to maintain some semblance of normalcy, but the persistent nausea and the bouts of vomiting made it nearly impossible. Each time she felt the familiar churn in her stomach, she would rush to the bathroom, hoping her aunt wouldnāt notice. But Aunt Grace wasnāt easily fooled.
Sandra would lock herself in the bathroom, leaning over the toilet bowl as she emptied the contents of her stomach. Each time, she would wipe her mouth, take a deep breath, and tell herself it was just a phaseāthat it would pass. But deep down, she knew something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong.
Aunt Grace had noticed Sandraās behavior changing even more. It wasnāt just the isolation anymore; there was a constant look of discomfort on her nieceās face, and she was clearly avoiding her. Whenever Aunt Grace tried to engage Sandra in conversation, the girl would give short, clipped responses before excusing herself, usually to go to her room or the bathroom.
“Sandra,” Aunt Grace called out one afternoon as she stood in the hallway, listening to the unmistakable sound of retching coming from the bathroom. Her heart sank as she realized what was happening. “Sandra, are you okay in there?”
There was a long pause before Sandraās shaky voice replied, “Iām fine, Aunty. Justā¦ something I ate, I think.”
Aunt Grace frowned, her worry deepening. This wasnāt the first time sheād heard Sandra say that, and she doubted it was the truth. But she didnāt push it, not yet. “Alright, dear. Just let me know if you need anything.”
As the days passed, Sandra became more and more withdrawn. She would spend hours in her room, only emerging when absolutely necessary. Aunt Grace could hear her niece pacing back and forth at night, her footsteps a constant reminder that something was seriously wrong.
Then, one night, Sandra woke up with a sharp, painful urge to vomit. The sensation hit her like a wave, and she barely had time to scramble out of bed and rush to the bathroom. The house was quiet, and she hoped she could make it to the toilet without waking Aunt Grace.
She reached the bathroom just in time, collapsing to her knees as she vomited into the toilet. The sound echoed in the small room, and Sandraās body shook with each retch. When it finally stopped, she sat back, breathing heavily, her mind racing.
“What is actually wrong with me?” she whispered to herself, wiping the sweat from her forehead. Her heart pounded in her chest as the fear she had been trying to suppress came rushing to the surface. “Or am Iā¦?”
She couldnāt bring herself to finish the thought. The idea was too terrifying to even consider. She had been so careful, hadnāt she? And yet, the signs were all there. The nausea, the vomiting, the fatigueā¦ Could it really be possible?
As Sandra sat there, lost in her thoughts, she suddenly became aware of a presence behind her. She turned slowly, her heart skipping a beat when she saw Aunt Grace standing in the doorway, watching her with a mixture of concern and determination.
“Auntyā¦” Sandraās voice was barely above a whisper, her eyes wide with fear and guilt.
Aunt Grace stepped into the bathroom, her expression hardened.
Sandra tried to protest, to insist that she was fine, but the words wouldnāt come. She felt a tear slip down her cheek as the weight of the situation finally hit her. “Aunty, Iā¦”
“Keep shut, go and get some sleep. We are going to the hospital first thing tomorrow. And you better pray that all these is not what I’m thinking…else I’ll kill you” Aunty Grace said as she stormed out.
To Be Continued
