She loved him or at least I thought at his age do not have much experience in matters of love. He also loved her, but their way, or at least that was what it implied. Their relationship was a secret, it was assumed that the pastor's daughter have a boyfriend, much less that it was older. He was 25 and she 16, she appeared in more and much less. They met by chance on the Internet, she was at My Space, had it on Facebook and both were in the Messenger. How beautiful it is when two people are connected to many hundreds of thousands of millions of profiles.
She was so in love, until there were nights that he forgot to pray. The poor was so crazy, so crazy about him. And so began the lies to his parents, invented trip to Juanita's house, collective prayers Carmencita house, trips to the cinema with Laura and vigils against the new code of civil order to be able to see everything, to have him in her arms. So were about 5 months, wrapped in the delicious aroma of love. She
so excited, so happy, I wanted to tell everyone what love was, but this was impossible, in view of all the pastor's daughter was untouchable, was a porcelain doll locked in an intercourse of glass. She hated to think whether it.
But one night while praying began to feel different, I felt something moving inside her. Was she pregnant or was gas?
Months went by and her belly was growing bit by bit, nobody noticed, or shepherd, neither her mother nor her beloved boyfriend, only her and God. She was plump therefore not noticeable. But one day when he allegedly went to school, she met him. Full of courage told him about her pregnancy. He answered, go fuck pal.
Since then, his life turns gray, I was alone, only her and God. I could not say anything to her parents, would die of shame and pain. So I had to fight this battle alone.
nine months passed and nobody noticed, the pastor's daughter was the same as always fat princess in the eyes of all. But she knew what to do, God revealed, she listened. How can anyone knowing of her pregnancy? With God's help everything is possible. Now she had to follow the divine plan that God had drawn. She delivered
alone in her room, a Sunday mass. Was the computer on and off light. There was nobody in the house. That Sunday was alone, dis that studying for an examination of pre-algebra postmodernist. That Sunday I cried a lot, that Sunday swear much at the man I love. Bid, bid a lot, cried, cried, cried harder, she asked God forces and pushed back ... you can hear the cries of the baby, heard the birds singing, the wind was heard knocking on the window and even voice heard of God himself laughing out loud. And those laughs were becoming stronger, and the cry of a newborn is intensified, and the laughter continued, more and more, and tears .... Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr, you hear a blender, absolute silence, the peacefulness of it. (Sigh)
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