"It's our child, lover." She said. I suddenly knew that it was true, although the child would be less than 24 hours old, and not to mention moving around, when they usually do that at around 7 months.
"What do we do? Can you support it? What if it dies? Why is it moving? When--."
"Calm down. I can support it just fine. And it will be born in approxamately three days."
"I am too young fatheerrrr . . ." I moaned. I was too busy feeling sorry for myself until that second, when it sunk in. "THREE DAYS!"
"I am being punished." Her eyes were melancholy as she said this.