Chapter 4 "Plan"

"Arwena, why didn't you go to school again? You haven’t lost anyone, so stop pretending you're mourning?"

Archie’s voice was sharp as he flung open her bedroom door. He had been knocking for ages but Arwena didn't bother to answer.

Running a hand through his hair, Archie looked at Arwena, sprawled on the floor like a lifeless doll. She looked worse than any street beggar, her hair tangled, and her face smudged with dirt.

“Stop this madness, Arwena!” Archie snapped, snatching the bottle as she took another gulp.

She used to drown her sorrows in coffee, standing by the window, breathing deeply, as if trying to gather the strength to face another day. But now it was alcohol she clung to, sobbing on the floor like a woman who had lost everything.

“Give that back, Archie!" she screamed, pointing a shaking finger at him. “It’s mine! Give it to me!”

Like a desperate child, Arwena crawled across the floor, trying to take the bottle he had taken from her.

“I don’t know what to do with you anymore, Arwena,” Archie said, his voice thick with frustration. “I don’t know how to help you.” He raked his fingers through his hair, a gesture of helplessness. “Are you going to destroy your life just because you're pregnant? Think, Arwena! You’re not the only one who’s gone through this! Others have chosen to be strong—to fight and move forward.”

Archie pressed his palm to his forehead, his patience fraying. He had given her time to think and time to cry, hoping that after she got it out of her system, she would come to her senses and pick up the pieces. But instead, she sank deeper into despair, each day pulling herself further into an abyss she had no intention of escaping.

“Arwena, when will you wake up?” His voice cracked, and to his surprise, his eyes filled with tears.

He was no longer just worried—he was devastated. Watching her crumble was breaking him, too. He had tried to understand her, to care for her, to remind her that this wasn’t the end of the world. That there was still a chance to rise to start over. But her mind was shut tight, locked against any advice or comfort he tried to offer.

“Arwena, please, for the love of God, stop this. Get your life together—if not for yourself, then for your parents. They love you. They’ll be heartbroken if they find out what you’ve been doing to yourself.”

She shook her head wildly, her tears flying off with each shake, yet still, they kept coming—an endless, bitter stream.

Archie clutched his chest, feeling the weight of her pain press down on him. He had run out of words, run out of ideas. He didn’t know what else to say or how else to help her see the light in the overwhelming darkness.

"Archie, I was trying—trying to fix my life," Arwena whispered, her voice hoarse as she pointed to her belly. "But because of this... I can't. I can’t do it anymore." She began pounding her fists against her stomach in a fit of despair, but Archie grabbed her hands, stopping her.

"Wena.” His voice was gentle now as he held her trembling hands, preventing her from causing any more harm to herself.

“It’s over, Archie. I’m ruined—*ruined*! My life is shattered again, and I don’t know how to pick up the pieces.

“You can pick them up, Arwena, if you really want to,” he said, his voice firm but soft. “But from where I’m standing, it’s not the baby that’s destroying your life—it’s you.”

She let out a bitter, hollow laugh. “I know! I’m not denying it, Archie. From the start, I’ve been the one ruining my life. I fell in love with a liar. I gave my trust to a best friend who turned out to be a snake. I gave myself to a man I barely knew!” Her laugh turned into a sob, her tears mixing with the snot running down her face. “I’m a fool! The queen of fools! If there were awards for stupidity, I’d win them all!”

“Arwena, this is not your fault. It’s not your fault that you trusted and loved a liar. It’s not your fault that your best friend betrayed you. The only mistake you made was letting their betrayal destroy you. You let their cruelty break you, and that’s why you’re here, like this.”

Archie sank onto the floor in front of her, his eyes filled with sorrow. He gently cupped her tear-streaked face, wiping away the tears that never seemed to stop.

Since Arwena had been discharged from the hospital, all she had done was sulk, sleep, cry, and drink herself into oblivion. She was worse off now than ever before. It was as if she had lost the ability to think, to act, to live.

“I’m so stupid! So stupid, Archie!” She sobbed, weakly pounding her fists against his chest.

“Yes, you’re stupid. You’re incredibly stupid because you’re destroying yourself while the people who hurt you are out there, living their lives, happy and free!”

“Enough! Stop, Archie!“ Just leave me alone! Get out of here! Go live your life and leave me to drown in mine.” Her body shook violently with each sob, her shoulders heaving as she buried her face on the floor.

“Arwena, please—”

“I said get out! I don’t need you! Just leave me alone!” She staggered to her feet and pushed him, her face twisted in anguish, her body trembling from the effort. “Get out!" she shouted, shoving him toward the door.

Helpless, Archie backed away, his face a mask of pain as he quietly left the room.

The moment he was gone, Arwena locked herself in the bathroom. She sobbed uncontrollably. She banged her head against the wall over and over, as if trying to knock some sense into herself.

There was no hope left. She had lost everything. Every dream she had ever had, every hope she had built for herself and her parents, had vanished—destroyed by the life growing inside her.

“I don’t want you! I don’t need you! I don’t want you,” she whispered through her tears, repeating the words like a mantra as if by saying them enough, she could make them true.

And then, as if a dark cloud had settled over her mind, a plan began to take shape—one that she believed would give her back the life she had lost. One final, desperate plan.