Belonging

Belonging

Prologue

The girl was running. Running from everything.

Her parents would never forgive her if they knew. The young man she had given her love to only returned it with hate, yet refused to let her escape from him. Her friends had abandoned her long ago, leaving her to drown in her despair.

She was trapped. Alone. There was no one who cared, no one who would care. Hope was something she hadn’t had much of in a long time.

There was no escape for her, maybe, but it didn’t have to be that way for her four-week-old son. The least she could do for him was give him a Future; a glimmer of light to hold on to in a dark world. As long as there was breath in her body, she would make sure her baby boy would never meet the same fate as her.

She kept a tight grip on the basket she held, shivering as the cold December wind cut through the thin fabric of her dress like a cruel knife, her shabby coat offering little protection. Her eyes scanned over the neighborhood, indecision gnawing at her mind. She knew she didn’t have much time left.

“Just find a house,” she whispered to herself. "Any house."

Her gaze lingered longingly over the houses that had warm, welcoming light glowing in the windows, and she blinked back tears as her thoughts drifted back to the home she once knew. The home she could never go back to.

Her mind fled back to reality as the sound an opening door reached her ears and she shrank back into the shadows, clutching the precious cargo to her chest and watching in anxious silence.

The door of the house in front of her was pushed open, sending more of that lovely, inviting, golden light spilling across the front porch and over the front steps. The figure of a young woman stepped out and put her hands on her hips, her head looking this way and that as though expecting something to arrive at any moment.

The woman finally turned and made her way back inside again, shaking her head with an amused smile and muttering something about “him being late again.” The door shut behind her and the warm, homely brightness abruptly vanished, leaving the sixteen-year old mother alone and unnoticed in the dark, empty street.

The baby whimpered.

“Shhh, my love; there, there,” she soothed, smoothing back her son’s wispy blond hair and rocking him to and fro. She decided to wait and see if anything else happened. This house looked somewhat promising.

The minutes felt longer and longer, and she grew colder and colder. There was no noise, save the sounds of her shaky breathing and the moaning wind that swirled about her.

Just as she was about to give up, her ears picked up another sound; a cheery, carefree sound that seemed out of place in the shadowy street. Someone was whistling.

Soon she saw a young man with a briefcase round the corner, whistling a tuneless, happy song and trudging up the walkway to the house she’d been watching. The door swung open and the young woman came out again.

“You’re late again, dear,” the woman teased, grinning playfully and giving him a kiss. Smiling and chuckling, the two of them returned to the warmth of their home and shut the door.

The young mother took a shuddering breath and tried in vain to swallow down the aching lump in her throat. She had chosen a place for her son. It was time.

“That one,” she choked, viciously fighting back tears as she ran up and placed the basket on the steps. Her fingers trembled as she held the pen, frantically scribbling a short note to the new parents. A few drops of something dripped onto the paper, blurring the ink; and she cursed her weakness as she realized the tears were her own.

She pinned the note to the coverlet and kissed her son for the last time.

“Be safe,” she whispered, touching the baby’s tiny hands in a final broken blessing. She stood to her feet and clenched her teeth in determination, not bothering to wipe away the tears as she rang the doorbell, dashed down the steps and vanished.