The morning of the surgery, I felt absolutely lonely and saddened. The weight of the world was too much for me to bear. Ingmar did not know this, not that I cared to tell. I could not tell mom, she will be disappointed. She didn't raise a daughter to make all the wrong choices.

I couldn't take it anymore. Lying on the hospital bed, I said a prayer, to whichever god who cared to listen... "I'm quite done with life. If this is what life has to offer, no thanks, just take me home. Let my lights flick off forever with my baby's during the surgery."

Maya! I thought of my best friend. I sent her a text just in time before I was wheeled into the operating theatre.

"Maya. I've made some mistakes. Feeling very :~~(( right now. About to undergo surgery at Hosp KG. Bye. I love you."

I counted 10, 9, 8 backwards and everything went black...

I tried to open my eyes. If it was still black, I had passed on with my baby.

The heavy eyelids responded as warm yellow lights began to pour into my vision. Okay... I'm still alive. My wish were not granted. Not that easy.

I felt sore from my waist down and a gaping emptiness in my whole being. Little baby was no more. My vision blurred up again not because of the pain from the surgery, but the excruciating pain I felt in my heart.




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