ESP or EPT?

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“Can you come in here a minute?” I shouted to my brother eating dinner with my folks, as I just stand in the bathroom in disbelief. I’d waited the three minutes it told me to wait and there was nothing. But, something told me to wait just like something inside knew I was pregnant. “I have to be,” I thought. And there it was, light pink at first and faint to both my brother and I as my pregnancy test deepened in color.”Wait, what?! What are you going to do Andrea?” He asked. “I have no idea,” I said. Suddenly my mind traveled back to when my best friend gave me a ride home. “Someone once told me that when you know you just know,” after I told her my period was late. “What do you honestly, instinctively think?” She asked. “I think that I am,” I said, terrified. I couldn’t believe that I just became a statistic. A number on a sheet like the census of fuck-ups or something.

“Do you want to keep it?” my brother asked, “It seems like you want to.” Of course I wanted to. I loved kids more than I loved myself even back then. At my last job I started babysitting for a family just because I got along so well with their son and they were regulars at work. I didn’t have any purpose in life after the depression started. But the one I had before was that I thought I was put on this Earth to have children. I really couldn’t see straight anymore and things were coming at me too fast. My fault or not, I had the biggest decision of my life to make and the saddest part was that it made me want to take my life even more in a way, and then gave me a reason to live in another way.

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