Hm... I really had to fight this website to get this up here. ._.

I wanted to get this juuust right. So it's been a bit rocky for a few days. I know it's rather confusing, but I had a real turn-around for Angela. After this chapter, we're done with moping and we're on to learning from mistakes and living for the sake of life. Finally, right? xD

Thank you so very much for the feedback! Verily, I could not go on without thee~.

Tee-hee, that sounded silly! Alright, without further ado…

Love and Hate

It was over now.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Angela was still a little girl. She had ridiculous fantasies. In her dreams, Jin came running back to her, all apologies and with renewed strength in their relationship. She would say her apologies, too, and they were going to be husband and wife again. People would stop staring at her. People would stop talking about her. She would have friends again.

But it was impossible. Jin was engaged.

The letter arrived in the mail this morning. She thought it was cruel. It wouldn't have been difficult to skip her house. She didn't need this 'kind' invitation.

Jin and Anissa will be married on Winter 7th at the Celesta Chu—

She hadn't read the rest.

Perhaps Angela should give them her congratulations. She was being awfully selfish after all. Anissa had been nothing but good to her.

But here she was, sitting in the middle of her floor on a towel. Angela's appearance was nothing short of haggard. She hadn't slept sound in days. A great cloud had descended over her mind at the realization of what a lifetime alone really meant – sinking into the depths of her conscious.

Her eyes were bulging at the slight madness that had overtaken her at the arrival of the letter. Damn that letter. Damn them all. I don't need anyone. I don't need anyone. Idon'tneedanyone.

Angela's hands were damp with nerves. Clutched in the iron grip of her palm was an old wire clothes hanger. She slackened her hold a bit, taking the end, her knuckles white.

Women had done this for hundreds of years. Prostitutes, whores – anyone who couldn't or wouldn't carry child. Angela would be one and the same.

Angela was straddled, ready for the process. She had thoroughly cleaned the clothes hanger, but she wouldn't really care if there was an infection. With some luck, it would kill her, too.

She just sat there.

A full five minutes passed before Angela made any sign of movement. Her fingers rolled over the wire in her hand. For the first time, she felt a spot of pain and realized she was holding it too tight. The skin of her hand was purpled and restricted. Nerves.

The hanger was much too large, of course. It was still so small. A tiny mound building on her abdomen…

Just… Jus-just enough to… to… rupture…

Would it hurt?

Of course it would hurt! A darker part of her mind scolded herself. It was supposed to hurt. She deserved all of this. Every last second of it. Angela had inadvertently become somewhat of a masochist these past few months, but in time, she would understand. She must pay heavily for her sins.

This is for Jin.

This – this thing – had destroyed her life. How, in a few short weeks, her entire corporeal existence could collapse from something so small, she would never know. All Angela knew was that this was her mistake. In physical form. A permanent reminder of what she had lost. Her husband, her love, her friends, her respect, her sanity. This was driving her up the wall.

Look at me! This God-awful thing has to go.

Calling it 'thing' made this a lot easier. After all, better to murder the child now before she grew too attached, right? Can call it a miscarriage. There's still time. First trimester – even Irene wouldn't guess…

Angela again looked at the hanger and felt this was too dark. How could she betray this?

A sudden wave washed over her being. A wave of utter remorse but filled with such a pure love, she could not help but smile. His laughter in her ears, their long talks, his beautiful eyes – such positive things came sweeping in, engulfing her in warmth and joy.

And Angela knew she could not give it up.

As much as she loved Jin, all hope was lost. She had said it herself. He's going to be married. He will never come back to her. Murdering a child wouldn't do anything but leave her utterly alone and despised – two things Harmonica Town had already taken care of. But Angela would hate herself if she did this.

And she loved it. The baby was hers. And his. Their ephemeral love would last forever in the thriving life that was living within her. Pulsating every moment. Filling her with warmth. She was regaining her confidence. The same warm face she showed the world, standing her ground against the entire town – she would not tell his name! Seeing his face that day… it gave her strength. At that moment, she knew that she could last a life time. Just knowing… she had lived and known him.

Angela dropped the hanger. She was suddenly revolted with herself, at the thought – how close she had come. And she was scared. Scared of herself. What she had almost thrown away.

She couldn't cry.

Her tears were spent. Spent on the both of them – on him and Jin both. She was not numb; she could not cry for them anymore. Angela's tears were reserved for her child now. Whenever they would fall and scrape their knee, whenever they would lose their temper, whenever they would despair, when they would grow older and finally move away. Whenever they felt alone.

It was selfish: Angela knew it; to raise a child in solitude. But a life alone was better than never given the chance at all.

For the first time today, Angela saw it was bright outside. Sunlight poured into her home and lit up the room with a yellow glow. The window was closed and fogged over from dried raindrops.

Angela looked to the sky. Tears glittered at the corners of her eyes as she picked herself up and tossed everything in the garbage. Towel, hanger, all – she couldn't look at them. Walking briskly to each window, she threw open the panes and let the warm summer air rush into her stagnant home.

She could do this. Angela could raise a child on her own. And she had a goal. Before, she had worried about herself and her own life and her own ruin. That was imminent. But this. This. This budding life in her – it had a clean slate. Slightly tainted by herself, she couldn't help. But it had a chance. And she was going to do all in her power to raise the child into that chance. So it could live.

And she smiled.