All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
Pregnant Girl's Best Friend Part 2
So Brianna went from house to house, sometimes staying with friends, sometimes staying at shelters, sometimes sleeping out on the streets, sometimes sneaking into my house and spending nights with me. When the due date finally rolled around my parents had felt so bad for Brianna they said she could stay at my house with the baby until she found another place. Then, amazingly, against everyone’s beliefs, Brianna gave birth to a healthy baby girl, whom she named Margret.
Brianna took good care of Margret, or Maggie, as we called her. She wasn’t doing drugs or drinking alcohol anymore. She wasn’t associating with Garry, or her “friends.” She was happy, which made me happy, which made my parents more generous.
When Maggie was about two months old Brianna had found an apartment. It was affordable since she had gotten a part time job, and it was a great place for Maggie to grow up. The two moved in three days later.
As the days and months rolled by everything seemed to be getting in place. I had gotten into college and I would be leaving in less than a month, which made Brianna very sad, but we both promised that we would stay in touch, and see each other every chance we got. However all of that happiness would be short lasting.
One day when I was going to visit Brianna and Maggie for the first time in about two weeks (since I was so busy getting ready for college) I found the door to the apartment wide open. As I walked in cautiously I searched the apartment for a few minutes before finding Brianna. I first went to see if Maggie was okay, which she was, quietly sleeping in her crib by Brianna’s bed. I walked around the rest of the apartment before finding the bathroom opposite Brianna’s bedroom locked. I knocked hard, asking who was in there. I heard some moans, I banged harder, more moans, I kept screaming for them to open the door, but nothing. So I called one of the few friends Brianna had kept since having Maggie, Ron. Ron came quickly and picked the lock on the bathroom (always a great quality in a friend) and when we opened the door I found Brianna spread out on the floor of the bathroom in a pool of her own vomit. Ron picked her up and set her down on the couch in the living room as I dialed 911. When the ambulance came Ron gave me and Maggie a lift in his car to the hospital.
When we got to the hospital the doctor told us that she was going to be okay, but that she had overdosed on drugs and came very close to death and she was very lucky. But before we could go see her we had to speak to Child Protection Services.
When the woman asked me if she had been doing drugs frequently I told them the truth, that she used to but since she had Maggie she had been one hundred percent clean. However the woman told me that that was a very different story than the one told by Ron. Ron had said that she had recently started doing drugs and drinking again. I confronted Ron and hoped that he would tell me he lied. However that wasn’t the case, he said that about two weeks ago Garry had came to her apartment and demanded to see Maggie. When Brianna refused he slapped her around and since she didn’t think she had anyone else to turn to she went to a party and…went back to her ways.
I was astonished. I couldn’t help but think why she didn’t tell me. Why she felt she couldn’t trust me, why she felt she had no other choice than to do drugs again, only this time with a child in the other room, her child in the other room. Then I had to stop worrying about that and worry about how Brianna would feel if they took Maggie away, which was looking stronger and stronger as all of this information resurfaced.
When Brianna woke up the first things she saw were her parents. Who hugged her tightly and cried into her sleeve and kept on saying “I love you, I love you, we are so happy you are okay. It’s going to be okay.” Even her father hugged her and said those words of encouragement. The first things she asked for were me and Maggie. I came quickly and hugged her tightly, tighter than I ever have before, while trying to fight back my tears, both happy tears and sad tears. When we were done hugging each other she asked for Maggie. Her parents looked down at the floor, which I took as a “you tell her.” So I did. I told her that Child Protection Services had taken her.
She was calm at first; she seemed to understand, although you could see her eyes welling up in tears. Her parents thought of it as a new beginning, which made my lips curl in disgust, on more than one occasion. The only reason they came was because they thought of this as a “wake up call” (at least that’s what they called it when Brianna wasn’t in the room.) So her parents spent every minute of every day in her room, making sure she was comfortable, when all they really were doing was convincing Brianna that if she gave up Maggie and her life she would be able to have a happily ever after with her parents in their stunning new home in Miami, Florida.
I sensed Brianna had an idea of what they were trying to do, she seemed smart enough to take a hint when her parents showed her pictures of their house, but she was too happy having them cater to her to object- however when they started making plans for her to move to Miami that was a bit much, even for her. She asked me and my mother to leave the room while she had a little “chat” with her mother and father. Long story short as my mother and I listened to the yelling and looked at each other in slight horror, Brianna was telling her mother and father to “get the f*** out” (at least that’s all me and my mother could hear clearly.)
Little did we all know those would be the last words spoken between Brianna and her parents.