As long as you live under MY roof, that child will NOT be born!

Later that night we sat at the dining room table for, yet again, another silent dinner. I still debated amongst myself if I should tell them what had happened; although I'd have to tell eventually because, well, it'd be pretty obvious.
I chewed on the peice of stake that was in my mouth, thinking that if i didn't get it down now, then I wouldn't be able to keep it down at all. Once it was down, I put my fork down and took a sip of my pop. Then I decided it was time.
 "Mom, dad?" I asked, getting both of their attention. It was defineately now or never.
 "Yes?" my mother asked in her sweet voice. Her Voice always sounded sweet; as if she had no other emotion then to be happy.
 "I...I," I stumbled on my words, then felt my nose tingle. All of the sudden I couldn't control myself. Tears started to tream down my cheeks that were probably flushed from my nervousness.
 "Sarah," my father started, "What's wrong?"
 "I'm pregnant!" I finally admitted to them not daring to look at their faces.
At first it was silent; and I thought, okay, not as bad as I thought. But then my fathers voice boomed.
 "WHAT?" he exclaimed in a demanding voice, standing up, knocking his chair back and over while doing so. I shuddered under his gaze. I slowly looked up at him, tears still streaming from my eyes. His face looked as if it would catch fire and second now.
I slowly moved my gaze to my mother. She too had a red face, not not from anger; I could tell by the tears leaking from her honey brown eyes; but from sadness.
 "What did you say?" His voice boomed again, demanding my answer. I gulped down a sob and answered him.
 "I'm pregnant," I said again, in a low voice, now in a silent cry. We all sat there for a moment, not moving, speaking or even looking at each other.
 "What do you have to say for yourself?" My father said, voice loud with anger.
I thought, and thought and thought some more but I couldn't find the words.
 "I don't know!" I cried, looking up at him but not seeing. The tears blured my vision.
 "Then what are you plans to do?" he asked, trying to lower his raging voice.
Again I relpied, "I don't know."
 "Well I'll tell you," he started, "As long as you live under MY roof, that child will NOT be
  born!"
With that he stormed out of the room. I heard his heavy feet stomping up the steps, wincing at each.
I looked at my mother. She was looking down.
 "I'm so sorry mom," I whined to her. Then she started to sob, and stooded up, walked over to me and threw her arms around me.
 "I know honey, I know," she sobbed into my shoulder. "I will help you anyway I can, 
 I promise."
At that point, I truely new that my mother loved me. Loved me like a mother would truely love her daughter.
 "Thank you mom, thank you so much, and I'm so, so sorry for what I've done," I confessed.

 We sat there, just crying on each others shoulders. Telling each other "sorries" and "I love you's". Soon after, I got tired. I told my mother good night and made my way upstairs. I went through my room, straight to my bathroom and turned on the tub, pouring loads of bubble bath in.
 I went back into my room and went to my computer, and went to my playlist and started some music. I walked back to my bathroom, stripping out of my clothes along the way.
 "I think you could make me girl, can make me change my life, I know you could break me girl, take all of me, all of me, oohhhh," I sang along to the song playing.
 I stopped when I caught my reflection. I stared at my belly, and stared at the little lump forming. I put my hand over it, feeling every inch. I was keeping this baby, no matter what may dad thought of me, or what he would do.
 I climbed into the tub, the water burning my skin. I rubbed the bubbles on my arms and chest, and leaned back relaxing; unsure of what would happen next.

Author's Note

again, sprry for grammar problems (if there are any)