Bracing October

As I looked around I realised the field was empty, the knee-high grasses swayed lightly in the cooling autumn breeze of October and the sky had changed from blue to lilac. The first stars had already appeared. Two iron gates at either end of the field were growing harder to see and the surrounding hedged boundaries of the field looked like long black pipes. The sky continually grew darker as I stood motionless in the middle of the damp meadow. So here I was alone in the field as I had been before, he had gone for good now and I understood he would not be back for me like he usually was.

I knew he had gone for good this time, his face revealed that more than the other times. I don't think I would be able to take him back this time, three times is enough isn't it? I've forgiven him all the other times anyway but it was never the same after the first time he left me, but the only problem I have this time is that I am carrying his child and he still doesn't know.

We have always met in this field, kept it quiet, the way he wanted it. Some times, we would stay here and other times we'd go back to his house. I wouldn't really call it much of a house, more like a small building with two rooms, there was his kitchen that comprised of an old fridge freezer and a electric cooker on the verge of breaking. Then there was his bedroom and bathroom, or in his case a used rusty bed, a few clothes in the corner and a shower which only ever had cold water and not exactly clean either. Was that the way I wanted to live? No child could survive in that. Not mine anyway.

A single tear rolled down my cheek, I'm scared, I didn't plan this baby, I know I am pregnant but I still don't want it to happen. I always thought I'd wait until I was twenty or even thirty-something to think of starting a family and here I am now, at 16, standing in a field, crying but there is some one else here, it's my baby.

I can remember everything we have ever done together, although there were a few more bad times than there should have been. Every time I took him back, they must have been the good times, I felt happy I was with some one I wanted to be with. I said to myself that he was going to change each time, he never did. I don't think he was ever unfaithful, well he never told me if he was but then again maybe it would have been easier if he was, at least there would be a proper reason for when he left me. I don't know why he left me all the other times still, if I ever asked him he would go quiet and then change the subject. I would try to bring it up again but he wouldn't listen to me, he never did. I always asked myself what I'd done wrong, had I done something to upset him? I didn't think I did. Every time in this field when he turned to walk away, his hands slumped deep into his pockets, he would turn his head to look at me quickly and his hair would be blown off his face to reveal those dark eyes, I never saw a tear, his face as always was hardened. Then he'd look away again and bow his head as he walked up the steady rise of the field.

It was a mess, my life was ruined and now I had no one to talk too. My parents, what about my parents? I hadn't told them yet, then again, I hadn't told any one yet. I don't know any one my age who has gone through this, could there be any in this type of village? This village is so quiet and lives in the past, they all seem to believe sex before marriage is a sin, ha, then I'm the sinner in this place, it will be me who gets all the disappointed stares when it all comes out, not him. It makes me laugh when I think about what they're going to say, they're going to be saying that it was my decision to sleep around, but it wasn't you know, I didn't have much choice with him. It's his fault that I am pregnant, said he didn't want to wear any protection and now look where it has got me. When I think about it, it is surprising it didn't happen sooner. I know he wouldn't want to help me, he couldn't afford to and personally, I wouldn't want him to.

The time isn't right; I am too young to go through this. It's his fault; half the time I couldn't stop him, he is so much stronger than me and he never cared how I felt. If I had told him about my pregnancy when I first knew and when we were still together he would have flipped and said it wasn't his. Now I am five months gone and this is his child, it cannot be any one else's because there was never anyone else but him.

I once felt safe in those strong arms, that was in the beginning anyway, now all I can associate them with is force, not the safety I used too. Every time I remember thinking that it would get better, but every time it got worse. He would never see my view, although I would never dream of pushing him further than the first refusal, I would never want to see or feel his anger. Being the cruel person he is, he would probably hit me. With his strength, I'd be thrown across the room. He used to call me fragile, I can just imagine him breaking every bone in my body, I knew I should have left him before the arguments started, I'm jut glad he got there first, before he went as far as hitting me. However, would he regret it if he did?

If I had a chance to read his mind, I wouldn't want too. It would be too complicated for me or anyone to understand. A mess, worse than my life is, it would be intricate to the last detail I would imagine but still it would be a tangled web of horror. It would confuse the greatest mind and puzzle even the most experienced doctor. I wouldn't want to know what he thought of me, I hate myself for being so weak, and I would never want to see what he thinks of me.

I must move. I need to get out of this place. The path to my left, well trodden by him and me leads out of the field and down to the naive villagers below. It grows colder and the breeze has thickened. In my loose clothing, I struggle to keep adequately warm. Loose clothing, that's another thing I need to get used too, hiding away my expanding stomach is not exactly very easy when people are used to seeing me with snugly fitting t-shirts and tight jeans. Change is something I am going to need to get used to with this. Abortion is not an option for me, I have always been against it, other people can make their own minds up about whether or not they could kill their own child, but this is something I could never even consider for myself. I'm going to keep this to myself for as long as I can, I have to.

I drag my feet and I walk as slow as possible, my arms wrapped tightly around me to save as much heat as I can but my fingertips still feel like ice. A crescent moon shines down gaily to light my way; I lift my head to gaze at its glow and remember that first night I came here.

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I was 14; young and inexperienced when it came to men. I first saw him when I was walking home from school, he was sat on a stile and smoking. The first thing I noticed about him was his black twisted hair that rested on his square shoulders. An old worn denim jacket enclosed a black t-shirt on his muscular body teamed with light loose jeans. His pale and death like skin contrasted with his black tresses and shy sombre eyes. He looked so unkempt and dangerous, a school girls' dream. He was my dream any way.

I was shy, a quick glance and a slight smile was all that caught his attention. All he saw was a girl in a school uniform, looking somewhat dishevelled and harassed after yet another day. How could a plaid skirt and white blouse be attractive? My dark brown hair was tied back in a messy ponytail and I am sure my make up must have disappeared by then. What ever it was about me that day, it made him follow.

He snubbed out the half used cigarette on the wooden stile and looked up. Shaking a stray lock of out of his face, he gradually stood up and dusted off the stray ashes. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he followed me.

"What's your name then?" he whispered, I could feel his hand on my shoulder. The wind chilled my face as I answered back.

"You'll have to find out." I couldn't help it! It was the first thing that came into my head.

"Then meet me in the field you saw me by later, I'll try and guess." His hand trailed down my back as he slowly retreated.

How could I not go? He asked me, it wasn't as if I had anything else to do. I never did anyway. For me it was just sitting inside the house watching television or in my room listening to music. So, it wasn't as if I was going to be busy.

He hadn't given me any specific time to meet him, so I wasn't exactly sure when to leave. My parents didn't ask me where I was going when I left at 7.30, they were used to me going for walks in the evenings anyway.

So here I was at the stile, where I first saw him earlier, I didn't know what I was going to say to him. To be honest, I didn't even know what I was doing here; all I knew was that I was meeting a man who I didn't know anything about. Not even his name or age. I sighed and lifted my first foot on to the bottom of the stile. I reached up with my right hand and gripped the cold, solid wood, my left hand rose in search of the other side, but instead of touching wood, it was grasped in a soft and warm hand.

I looked up and tried to focus in the dark surroundings, in front of me was his face. The bright white that encircled his blackened eyes shone and reflected the thin slither of moon visible in the clear autumn night. His long messed hair framing his seemingly perfect face tumbled onto the pale skin. A shy smirk spread as he felt me shiver under his hand. He moved his face closer to mine, until he was just centimetres away.

"Come on then." He whispered wickedly to me. I smiled and he helped me over the stile. I landed in a field of long grass, I stumbled but his strong hands grasped me before I could fall.

"Thanks." I said feeling slightly embarrassed about the whole falling and catching cliché thing.

"Anytime. So," he started as we walked through the field "do I ever get to know your name then? Or are you going to make me guess?"

"I won't make you guess." I paused shortly and looked at him "I'm Hermione."

His shy grin had returned and graced his ashen features; he looked strange, but in a good way. He looked like dangerous turned nice.

"So then, do you know why I asked you here?" he had such a nice voice, a slight accent was hinted, but I couldn't quite place it.

"Yeah I did a bit, I wasn't sure why I had even turned up when I was at the stile." I confessed quietly.

"I could see that you were a bit hesitant back then. I have seen you around a lot, mostly walking around in the evenings. You walk past here quite often; I usually sit on the stile and watch people. It just so happens that you have been past so much that I wanted to know more about you." By this time we had stopped, surrounded by darkness of the autumn night I couldn't see very far in front of me but I could see him so clearly, "I've just wanted to see you closer than I have before."

His face was again very close to mine, I could feel his light breath and smell his scent of spices. His hands lightly gripped my upper arms. With me being tall for my age, he hardly had to bend down. His lips were so close to mine, I could almost feel the warmth of them. And then they touched. His hands slid down to my waist, I was shocked, nothing like this had ever happened. This was so unexpected, I didn't know how to react to such a thing, and so I just relaxed. I wasn't sure exactly what else to do. I was completely under his control.

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Back then it was simple. I had never had a boyfriend before, unless you counted the one I had when I was six, but I'd never had anything like him before. Everything I experienced with him was new, every little thing was different, something completely fresh. However, new was not always good. Because the new things I came across all led up to where I am now, pregnant and growing up far too fast.

I am freezing and I want to get home. I don't know when I'm going to tell my parents about this, I'm not close to either of them and they probably couldn't relate to this. I have to tell them some time, surely they will notice it eventually, I could tell them then but it could be worse if they find out like that and this is enough of a shock for me, I don't know what its going to be like for them. Their only child is expecting her own by a man they had forbid her to see. This is not going to go down well.

I hurry along the dark lane that leads to my house, an old lady whom I know waves at me from her door. I wave back and smile. Then I wonder what she will think of me in a few months time. I pass through my gate and down the garden path, a light is on in the front room window and I see my parents' head and shoulders silhouetted on the sofa. I put my key in the door and turned it. Taking a deep breath I stepped in, a warm rush of air greeted me. I went up to my room straight away.

The full-length mirror stood at the other side of the bedroom, I slipped off my shoes and walked towards it. In the reflection was me, it looked just like the old me, but the only difference was that now I had a much larger stomach. The more I looked the bigger it seemed to be. It was now I realised that I had to tell them, but how, that was another thing I didn't know.

I descended the stairs; the light blue carpet was soft under my bare feet. The dark wooden banister was cold under my grip. Taking each step slowly, I eventually made my way down, continually dreading the last step. The living room door was slightly ajar and a strip of light shone through, a muffled noise of laughter was emitted from the television.

I slowly pushed the door open and quietly walked in, when I threw myself into the soft armchair opposite the sofa, my mother smiled lightly at me, 'She isn't going to be smiling in a minute' I thought to myself. I stared in the direction of the television; it progressively went into a colourful blur as I drifted off into my thoughts. The words spun round my head 'How am I going to tell them?' it was all I could think of. Maybe I should just blurt it out. No, if I did that they might think I was joking. I had to tell them properly and now.

I am so nervous, I wonder if they can tell. Come on! It's now or else they will find out by themselves. This shouldn't be happening to me, I don't want this; I don't want any of this. I'll take a deep breath and say it. "Erm, mum, dad?"

"Yes?" they both said simultaneously, although distracted by the television.

"I'm pregnant." I could feel a lump rising in my throat as I saw them both freeze. My father took a deep breath.

"You're.you're what?" He said stiffly through gritted teeth.

"I'm pregnant." I repeated, the tears lapping in my eyes.

"Oh dear god! But how? You weren't meant to be seeing him!" my mother was shaking as my father raised his voice. The television completely forgotten now.

"You told me I couldn't see him 3 months ago. I haven't seen him much since, but he broke it off earlier tonight." I burst into a flood of tears. Across the room, my mother had buried her head in her hands and sobbed silently. Meanwhile my fathers face filled with anger.

"How far along are you then? Bloody hell you are an embarrassment to me! What is wrong with you? Being with him, of all the people you could be with! And then you decide to get yourself into this state with him! I bet he's known this for months hasn't he?" I got up and ran to the door.

"No! He doesn't know anything about this and I don't want him to know anything about it either! I have known this for months and if you really must know, I'm 5 months pregnant." Slamming the door behind me, I ran back up the stairs and into my room. I fell on to my bed a cried, I'd never cried this much before. I clutched onto my growing stomach, this was mine and I wasn't going to let it go.

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Four months on, it's February 23rd. For the first time I am holding my baby in my arms. She is so tiny and perfect. The minute white tags on her miniature wrist and ankle show her name. Relief spreads through knowing that I have a healthy daughter resting in my arms and I am so happy that I didn't give her up.

He still doesn't know about her, I haven't told him anyway. He might have seen me walking some nights but I haven't seen him at all since that night in the field. I never want to see him. I won't lie to my daughter when she asks where her dad is, I'll tell her the truth. That he doesn't know about her. It might be hard for her but by then, I just might possibly have found some one else, maybe even Ron.

My parents did accept it in the end and they helped me through a lot of it. I bought all the big things like a cot and pram they just helped out with the clothes and some other little things. They have already started the doting grandparents act, I've sent them away to calm down while I spend some time on my own.

Severus won't know any of this.

It's just I and my daughter now and we will make it through. At least some thing good came out of that relationship. Now I have her and she is mine. As my newborn child grips my finger, I smile. It's her and me now; I am never going to give her up.

It's my life now mine to share with one person and she was lying silently sleeping in my arms.