~Elsie's POV
~Elsie's POV
Two months later…..
I woke up feeling like my body didn't belong to me.
It wasn't just tiredness this time. It was worse. My head was banging like someone was knocking from the inside, and my stomach felt… off. Heavy and uneasy, like something was sitting there that shouldn't be there.
I stayed on the bed for a few seconds, staring at the ceiling, trying to convince myself it was just stress. Or maybe fever. That made sense, right? I had been working too much, barely resting, and honestly, my life had not exactly been peaceful.
So I pushed myself up. Everything spun for a second, but I held onto the edge of the bed until it settled, then I stood up properly and started getting dressed for work. I didn't have the luxury of staying home because I "felt unwell." That kind of thing was for people who had options.
I didn't.
But just as I was about to step out of my room, the nausea came so suddenly that I didn't even think, I just turned and ran straight to the bathroom, barely making it before I threw up.
And it wasn't small.
It was violent.
My body shook with it, my hands gripping the sink as I tried to steady myself, and when it finally stopped, I just stayed there, breathing heavily like I had just run a race I didn't sign up for.
Then slowly… I lifted my head. And I saw myself in the mirror.
I froze. Because I didn't look like me. My face was pale. My lips dry, my eyes dull like all the life had been drained out of me overnight.
"What is wrong with me…" I whispered, my voice barely there.
For a moment, I just stared at my reflection, waiting for it to make sense.
But it didn't. So I washed my face, took a deep breath, and decided I would stop by a pharmacy on my way to work. Maybe it really was just malaria.
The pharmacy was quiet when I stepped in, and the smell of medicine hit me immediately, sharp and clean.
I walked up to the counter and met a woman standing behind it, her eyes calm but observant.
"I've been feeling dizzy," I said, trying to explain quickly. "And nauseous. My head hurts too. I think it's malaria. I need drugs."
The pharmacist gave me the drugs. I paid, took the small pack, and left, trying to ignore the strange look the pharmacist gave me before I walked out.
By the time I got to the cafe, I was already exhausted.
But I still showed up because I had to.
I changed into my work clothes, tied my apron, and forced myself to act normal. I even took the drugs, standing behind the counter with a glass of water, hoping they would kick in quickly and fix whatever was wrong with me.
But they didn't. Minutes passed, then an hour and nothing changed.
If anything, I felt worse. My head still hurt, my body still felt weak, and that strange heaviness in my stomach refused to go away.
"I just need to rest for a bit," I muttered to myself, my voice low as I stepped away from the counter and headed to the restroom.
The moment I got inside, I leaned against the wall, closing my eyes for a second, breathing slowly as I tried to steady myself.
What is wrong with me?
That question kept repeating in my head, over and over again, until something else slipped in.
It was a faint memory. It was that night at the party. When I woke up beside a man.
My eyes opened immediately.
I straightened slowly, staring at my reflection again, my heart beating faster now.
Did… did we…?
The thought came suddenly, sharp and uncomfortable, and I shook my head quickly.
"No," I whispered to myself. "No, that's not possible."
It couldn't be.
"I would have remembered… right?"
Or maybe not. That was the problem. Everything after I entered that room was a mess in my head. I swallowed hard, pushing the thought away because I couldn't deal with it right now. I couldn't stand there and start imagining things that might not even be true.
So I left the restroom and went back to work.
But it wasn't easy.
Every step felt heavier than the last, and even simple things like carrying trays or taking orders started to feel like too much. My smile wasn't real anymore, and I knew it. And then it happened again, the nausea. I didn't even try to hold it in. I rushed back to the restroom and threw up again, my body shaking with it, my hands gripping the sink tightly as if it was the only thing keeping me upright.
When it stopped, I stayed there, breathing hard, my chest rising and falling unevenly.
"This is not malaria, Elsie,"
For a long moment, I just stood there, staring at nothing, hoping I was overthinking it.
"I'll just check," I whispered to myself, my voice barely steady. "Just to be sure."
I finished my shift somehow. I didn't even remember how.
By the time night came, my body felt completely drained, but instead of going straight home, I stopped at the pharmacy again.
"I need a pregnancy test," I said quietly.
The pharmacist didn't ask questions. She just handed it to me, and I left.
When I got home, I didn't talk to anyone. I went straight to my room, closed the door, and then walked into the bathroom like I was being pulled there.
My hands were shaking now. They were shaking so badly.
I sat on the toilet seat, staring at the small strip in my hand, my heart pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears.
"Please let me be wrong."
I followed the instructions carefully, even though my fingers felt numb, and then I waited. Those few seconds felt like forever, and when I looked down, my breath caught.
It came out positive.
I froze.
"No…" I whispered, my voice breaking immediately. "No, no…"
My eyes filled with tears as I shook my head, refusing to believe it.
So I did it again. Because maybe the first one was faulty, maybe I did it wrong. But when the second one showed the same result, I almost screamed.
The sound rose in my throat so fast, so sharp, but I forced it down immediately, covering my mouth with my hand.
"No. My parents must not know about this."
Tears streamed down my face as I sat there, my body trembling, my mind racing with questions I had no answers to.
"What have I done? How did this happen? How am I going to fix this?"
I pulled at my hair slightly, my breathing uneven as panic settled deep in my chest.
After a while, I stood up slowly, wiping my face with the back of my hand, though it didn't help much. I felt empty, drained, like everything had been taken out of me.
I picked up the strips, staring at them one more time before walking out of the bathroom.
My legs felt weak, my steps slow, and I must have looked as lifeless as I felt, because the moment I stepped into my room, my mother walked in.
I froze. Our eyes met, and for a second, no one spoke.
Then her gaze dropped to my hand, to the strips. And before I could react, they slipped to the floor.
My heart jumped into my throat as I quickly bent down to pick them up, but she was much faster. She grabbed one, her eyes scanning it quickly, and then she looked at me again.
Her expression changed instantly.
"What is this, Elsie?" she demanded, her voice sharp, already rising.
I swallowed hard, my hands shaking at my sides.
"Mum, I…."
"If this is right…" she cut in, her tone filled with anger now, her grip tightening around the strip. "Are you pregnant?"