TANGLED WITH THE MARTINEZ BROTHERS

I've been staring at the mirror for over an hour and I have no idea who I'm staring at. Who is she? It can't be me. The incident of earlier tonight played before my eyes in the mirror, making me shudder. “Sir, please, let me go." I had begged. He didn't. Instead, he pulled me closer against my will. “No! You'll enjoy this, if you just stay still.” His figure towered over my small frame, so no matter how I tried to fight him off, it was useless. He had his way eventually. …and now, here I am! It was like my life in the past 2 years was playing before my eyes, a very tragic movie, I must add. I came home with a degree, pleased that I had made my parents proud, ready to face life head-on and conquer. Guess who's on the floor now! From losing my mother to a fatal accident, to watching my father fight for his life as a result of this same tragic twist. And you wanna know the worst part of the whole life thing? It's those times where life gives you hope—not a tiny piece, a very huge chunk—so when things go south, it hurts even more. He survived. The doctors said there was a huge chance he would make it. My sister and I were happy, overwhelmed with hope that after all, we wouldn't lose the only family we had left, but that was shattered—crushed underneath and ran over. He died three days later. Now, here I am, after two years still struggling to provide for my sister and I. Everything fell apart. As if that wasn't enough, I just had heavier baggage dropped on my shoulders. And I am breaking under its weight. I wiped the tears off my eyes forcefully, but it was useless. It only made it fall off even more. The more I stared in the mirror, the more the event of earlier tonight played in my mind. My phone rang, pulling me out of my thoughts. I looked away from it, feeling the heaviness overwhelm my heart even more. I need to breathe! Yet the phone wouldn't stop ringing. I finally looked at it, to know the caller. Eric! I didn't need to ask to know why he was calling me. I had a date with him tonight. He had told me how he was looking forward to it, truly, it had been a very hectic task getting me to accept to go out with him. I thought; He's an amazing guy, and there's no harm in trying. Tonight was supposed to be different. I had slipped into my favorite dress for the first time in weeks, convincing myself that I could allow a little happiness into my life after everything that had happened. But it just had to go on and get worse. I couldn't even make it to the date. I was r***d by my boss! As the thoughts crossed my mind, the weight of the realization dawned on me, and the dam broke. I leaned into the bathroom door, sliding to the floor as the tears fell. What have I done to deserve this! Why? My palm covered my mouth so my cries wouldn't be heard. So my younger sister wouldn't have to know. I have to be strong, right? Chest the physical and emotional pain, and act like none of this happened. Right? I have to be strong for her. But I couldn't stop crying. I couldn't hold in the tears. Can someone please tell God that I'm not that strong. I'm not! A knock on the door made me hold my breath, then my sister's voice came. “Mel, you've been in there for ages. Are you gonna come out or what?" I sniffed as quietly as I could, inhaling deeply, I tried to make my voice sound like I wasn't crying. “Give me a minute." I didn't need a seer to tell me I failed woefully. I pulled myself to my feet painfully. The room felt like it was spinning as I made my way to the sink. Splashing the cold water on my face, I took another deep breath. You got this, Melissa. Opening the bathroom door, June, was waiting for me. She must have heard everything I didn't want her to hear, the concern on her face was evident, but I brushed past her, ignoring her questions. “Melissa, are you okay? What happened?” she asked, her voice laced with worry. “Not now,” I managed to choke out, heading straight for my room. I locked the door behind me and collapsed onto the bed. And then I cried. I cried until my throat was raw and my chest ached. The tears didn’t stop; they poured out in waves, dragging with them every ounce of pain, fear, and helplessness I felt. By the time the sun rose, my pillow was soaked, and my body felt like it had been wrung dry. But I couldn’t afford to fall apart. Not completely. So I got up, cleaned myself up, and buried the memory as deep as I could, hoping it would never resurface. — A month later, I was in the kitchen, trying to force down a cup of tea. The nausea had been relentless for days, but I’d been blaming it on stress. That morning, though, I’d woken up feverish and lightheaded, and even the thought of food turned my stomach. I didn't notice my sister, June walk in. “Melissa, are you okay? You’ve been acting strange lately,” June said, eyeing me as she leaned against the counter. “I’m fine,” I lied, though my pale reflection in the window said otherwise. But June wasn't having it this time. “Mel, this isn't fair. You come home late on a certain night, lock yourself in your room and cry all through, and one month later, you still look like there's a ghost trailing behind you. Do you think I'm blind? I know you're not fine.” I sucked in a sharp breath, my head reeling."June, I'm fine.” I snapped. "If I wasn't, I'd tell you.” I added, my tone much softer. I'm lying! I'm not fine! I made to walk away but as I reached for my mug, the dizziness hit me like a wave. The room spun, and before I could steady myself, everything went black. When I came to, the sterile smell of the hospital filled my senses. I blinked, my vision slowly coming into focus. June was sitting beside me, her face etched with worry. “Oh, thank God,” she said, grabbing my hand. “You scared me half to death.” “What happened?” I croaked, my throat dry. “You collapsed,” she said. “The doctor’s been running some tests.” As if on cue, the doctor walked in, holding a clipboard. “Ms. Jones, I’m glad to see you’re awake,” he said with a kind smile. “Is everything okay?” June asked, her grip on my hand tightening. “What's wrong with my sister?" The doctor hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Umm… I don't know if this is a congratulations but you’re pregnant, Ms. Jones.” Oh no!