Lost in the dark

The test

I noticed it first in silence.

One month passed.

Then another.

By the third month, fear had settled deep inside my bones.

i haven't seen my monthly Flow.

At first, I told myself it was stress. College. Long days. Too many thoughts. Too many sleepless nights. I had heard stories of girls missing their period because of exhaustion, because of worry. I clung to that lie the way a drowning person clings to air.

But my body knew before my mind accepted it.

That morning, I walked into a small pharmacy far from school, my face hidden beneath a scarf, my heart racing as if I were stealing something. I asked for the pregnancy strip without looking at the attendant. My voice shook. My hands shook.

Back in my room, I locked the door.

The test was quick. Too quick.

Two lines.

My ears rang.

My knees weakened.

The room felt like it was folding in on itself.

I sat on the floor for a long time, staring at that small piece of plastic as if it were a stranger that had just ruined my life. My hands pressed against my stomach, flat and quiet, yet suddenly heavy with meaning.

Daniel.

That was the only name in my head.

I didn’t text him.

I didn’t call.

I needed to see his face.

I needed to hear his voice say something—anything—that would make this feel less terrifying. I needed reassurance. I needed to believe that I wasn’t alone in this.

What will I tell my parents ,how do I explain to them

I wept

So I went to his place.

I didn’t tell him I was coming.

The walk there felt endless. Every step was heavy. The sun burned my skin, but I didn’t feel it. My heart was beating so loudly it drowned out the sounds of the street.

When I reached his apartment, something felt wrong immediately.

The door wasn’t fully closed.

And there—right in front of it—was a pair of female slippers.

Not mine.

My stomach dropped.

I stood there frozen, my breath caught in my throat, my fingers trembling as they touched the door. I told myself it could be a visitor. A cousin. A neighbor. Anything but what my heart already knew.

I pushed the door open.

The room was quiet.

Too quiet.

Then I saw the bed.

Daniel was there.

And he wasn’t alone

He was with Shida.

The girl I saw her pic on a chat in Daniel's phone years ago whom Daniel claimed was his friend's girlfriend.

The world didn’t crash loudly the way people say it does.

It went silent.

I couldn’t scream.

I couldn’t cry.

I couldn’t even move.

My ears rang. My vision blurred. My chest tightened so painfully I thought I might collapse right there on the floor. Tears streamed down my face without permission, hot and uncontrollable.

I don’t remember stepping back.

I don’t remember turning around.

I only remember walking.

Walking without direction.

Walking without breath.

Walking with a life inside me and nothing left to hold onto.

The pregnancy strip was still in my bag.

So was my heart—shattered beyond recognition.