Here it is. My entry for the Generation Dare on the Dares Forum. I hope you all like it! It's about the generation before, which would be Jin's parents.

I do not own Harvest Moon, only Naomi.

"Mom… I'm pregnant."

Those words Naomi muttered echoed around the tiny apartment. Tension enveloped them like a thick blanket, and she stared at her mother with fearful eyes. Irene opened her mouth, but no words came out. She felt was a mix of emotions; anger, mostly, mixed with disappointment and worry.

"Mom, please say something," Naomi begged. Irene rose from the couch and glared at her. Before she could react, she lifted her right hand and struck her on the cheek. Naomi recoiled and cradled her head in her hand; silent tears streamed down her face and she looked down in shame. When she removed her hand, a bright red hand print was left on her cheek.

"Who's the father?" Irene regained her composure. Naomi's head was still facing downwards, and she didn't speak. "Who's the father?" Irene repeated, with more force. She grabbed Naomi's chin, forcing her to look up.

"B-Brent," she uttered.

"Does he know?"

"… Yes. He knows. He broke up with me," she cried.

"How far along are you?"

"Three months…"

Irene sat back down on the couch, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees. Sighing, she brought her index fingers up to her forehead and started rubbing her temples. "How could you let this happen, Naomi? You're sixteen!"

"I'm sorry, mom." she sniffled. "I-I could… I could get an abortion! Yeah! Then-"

"No," Irene cut her off. "An abortion is cruel. Killing a child that hasn't been able to experience life in this world is cruel. You are going to have this child, and face the consequences of your actions." That was it. Neither of them said anything after that. Naomi stood in the living room with her head down, and eventually Irene got up. She walked briskly past her and into the bathroom, slamming the door shut.

The cold aura that came from Irene when she walked past made her shiver. Naomi sat down on the couch and held on to her stomach while even more tears fell from her eyes. Some rolled off her chin and onto her lap; others seeped through her lips, and she tasted their salty bitterness. Her sobs eventually became louder, until she was crying like a toddler. She huddled on one end of the couch with her knees brought up to her chest, and her hands constantly flew up to her face to wipe away the tears and snot. Her skin was now red and blotchy, concealing the hand print on her cheek. Her hair, once tied in a neat ponytail, was now disheveled and the hair tie was slipping further and further down her long, silky mane.

The cries slowly died down into snivels and the occasional gasp for breath. Irene had been in the bathroom for goddess knows how long, leaving the cramped apartment eerily silent. Finally sitting up, Naomi looked around. Her vision was still blurred, but she could tell she was alone. She remembered all the times she cried as a child. Whether she was being scolded by her mother or a bigger kid pushed her down in the sandbox; in the end, her mother was always there to comfort her. To hold her in a loving embrace, and whisper comforting words in her ear. Standing up, Naomi wiped her eyes one last time. She shivered as the air conditioning hit her pale skin, before walking back to her room and quietly shutting the door behind her.

The next month proved to be an emotional turmoil for both Naomi and Irene. The two didn't speak to each other unless it was absolutely necessary. Naomi started eating dinner in her bedroom, and since Irene worked as a doctor, she was at the hospital until late at night. As Naomi's stomach enlarged with each passing week, Naomi found it harder to conceal the now-noticeable protuberance that was forming. Luckily for her, Brent hadn't said anything about her pregnancy, most likely to save his self-image. Since she was only in the early stages, for now she would just wear baggy T-shirts and hope that nobody noticed. Hopefully, nobody would notice her morning sickness, either.

Now six months into her pregnancy, the baby bump grew even larger and could no longer be hidden from her peers. Now it was the beginning of fall; the leaves were changing color, and the crisp air was a welcoming change from the humidity of summer. School had started a few weeks prior; she had seen her friends again, whom she hadn't told about her pregnancy yet. She had passed Brent in the hallways, only to be served with a cold shoulder and ignorance.

But today was different. Everything was different, now that her pregnancy was so blatantly obvious. Her 'friends' stopped talking to her. Everybody treated her differently. It was just period two, trigonometry, when the whispering started. Naomi could hear them clearly, but made no move to say anything. She didn't want to draw any more attention to herself.

The mockery continued into English.

Whisper, whisper.

Then to History.

Whisper, whisper.

And after, to lunch, where she sat alone, and then chemistry and physical education.

Whisper, whisper.

Naomi ground her teeth, a bad habit of hers, while she walked back to the apartment. They all acted like she wasn't there, like she couldn't hear them. She would whip her head around to glare at them, and the whispering would impede until she turned around again. She could feel their judgmental eyes from behind her; they bore into her back and slowly beat her down. She had to go through another three months of this. Naomi had no idea if she would be able to make it or not.

At three-thirty, Naomi was greeted with a small smile and a 'welcome back' from her mother, when she walked in through the door. Tension between them slowly died down, and Irene gave her full support to her daughter. And because Irene protested against abortion so intensely, adoption was another path to take once the child was born. So far, neither one of them found success in finding a suitable foster family.

Winter soon arrived, with frosty winds and heavy blizzards. Now nine months pregnant, Naomi was due any day; it just so happened that day was the 26th. It had been a peaceful Saturday morning. Naomi rested on the couch with a bowl of cereal in her hand and the television remote next to her. Once she was finished, she got up and put the empty bowl in the kitchen sink. She turned around to head back into the living room, when she felt… wet. Her brows furrowed in confusion, and she looked down. Indeed, her sweatpants were soiled, and Naomi stared at them before she realized; she was in labor.

She panicked and ran out of the kitchen. What should she do? Where should she go? Should she call 911? Oh dear goddess! Okay, okay. Calm down. Deeeep breath, deep breath. She calmed herself and attempted to think rationally. At that very moment, the baby decided to kick. Hard. Naomi doubled over and groaned in pain. How could she think like this?! Instead, she did what she was taught to do since she was little. What she was taught to do when she needed help.

"Moooom!"

It all happened in a blur. She was driven to the hospital, and once there she was put in a wheelchair and rolled into a bland, white room. By then, her hair was matted to her forehead and she was breathing heavily, wishing that the searing pain from the contractions would magically disappear. She lay on the bed for what seemed like hours, going through contraction after contraction, when a doctor wearing blue scrubs burst through the door.

"Okay, Naomi. The baby's on its way, so you're going to have to push!"

Waaaah! Waaaah!

The baby's piercing screams cut through any noise in the room, replacing Naomi's. She breathed heavily, laying back and closing her eyes. When she opened them again, the small bundle was placed into her arms; a healthy baby boy. His cries had stopped, and his expression was replaced with a jovial one as he gurgled in his mother's arms. Tufts of dark brown hair sprouted from his head, and his cheeks were a rosy pink. His almond-shaped eyes opened for the first time, revealing purple-gray orbs, and he looked at his mother and grandmother with curiosity.

"He's beautiful," Naomi muttered. Her eyes were still fixed on the baby, and she smiled at him.

"Go on, give him a name," Irene urged.

Naomi thought for a bit before smiling again. "Jin. Your name is Jin."

"That's a great name," Irene commented. They were all a family now; neither of them wanted that to change, and they came to the same conclusion. Naomi spoke up first.

"Mom… I don't want to give up Jin. Not now and not ever. I'll take care of him. I want him here with me."

Irene nodded in understanding, and they both looked down again at their bundle of joy, their unexpected miracle.

The next year was content and serene. Along with new life came new love. Naomi met her current boyfriend, Nick, at a college orientation. He was completely supportive of her and Jin, often coming over to play with him. They were so in love, and on their one year anniversary, they went out on a date to an amusement park. Irene watched over Jin that day, and they both awaited their return. One that would never come. At twelve o'clock, Jin was fast asleep and Irene was sitting under the dim light of a lamp. She still waited for Naomi to come back home, tapping her foot impatiently. Another half hour passed, when her cell phone rang. The caller ID read 'Naomi'.

"Hello?"

"… Are you Naomi Miyako's mother?" an unknown voice spoke on the other end.

"Who are you? How do you know that?" Irene pressed.

"You were number one on her speed dial, so I figured. This is Officer Morgan from the police department."

"What happened to Naomi? Is she okay?!" Irene said in a hushed tone.

"… I'm sorry, miss. Naomi was involved in a car accident a few hours ago. She passed away in the hospital."

Irene dropped her cell phone. It snapped shut, hanging up on the police officer. She collapsed on one of the chairs in the kitchen, and muted tears spilled down her cheeks. In the distance, she could hear Jin's soft snoring.

This place… It isn't safe for him. What if he gets hurt? Her eyes fell upon the day's newspaper, and saw an interesting looking ad, one she had originally overlooked. It read 'Looking to hire a doctor in the Choral Clinic, located in Castanet; a place that is peaceful, and away from the bustle of the city.' Below that was a contact number. That was it; it was perfect. She would take Jin and move to Castanet, after Naomi's funeral. That way, he would be safe and unharmed.

Irene winced at the word 'funeral'. Naomi was really dead. She would never come home. A new wave a tears threatened to be released. Wiping them away, she walked out onto the balcony. The sky was pitch black; the city smog covered the stars. Irene looked up, whispering into the wind.

"Naomi… If you're out there; I didn't get a chance to say it, but… I love you. I love you so much, and I will forever. Thank you, for being so understanding. You were the light of my life, and now Jin is a new light. So most of all, thank you, for him; the unexpected miracle."

Boom. There it is. I hope you enjoyed my entry! This is the first dare I'm entering, so I hope it's good! The prize seems really nice, but I don't really care if I don't win (although it would be nice, haha). I really tried to make the ending not too depressing, but it still turned out that way. :p Either way, leave a review, if you want! Criticism is always accepted.

- blacksunset1214