It was easy getting used to living my new life. I mean, the past month hasn't been very challenging, I haven't left the house much. Being here gives me a sense of safety, it makes me feel as if I am free.

With this new identity, I will take advantage of it. I will create the life I dreamed of, the one I never got a chance to have. My personality is still the same, I'm still the snarky, over-dramatic dweeb I've always been. Maybe I can be a shop owner like I've always dreamed.

Of course, I won't use any of Jason and Matilda's money, they've provided me with so much already. But now, I can save up my money and do what I dreamed. Back home, all my money would go to bills and my father's drug problem; I never had money of my own. Of course, my father didn't work. After my mother passed, he quit his job and dove into addiction. Finishing high school and working to support my father was not easy, but I am so glad I stuck through and did it. But, I guess you could say this newfound lack of responsibility was utterly awesome. Nothing weighs me down, and I can be who I really am.

Over the last month, Matilda and I have gotten along very well. Seeing as I don't visit anyone else, she's basically my best friend. We have breakfast together every morning, dinner every night and we just clicked. The amount of trust she has in her husband is incredible. I mean, here comes Jason, bringing home a random girl off the road and she's cool with it. She's the type of person I aspire to be: Kind, trusting, fun, loving of all and compassionate.

"Laine?" I hear a voice call me out of my thoughts.

I had been sitting at the white breakfast bar on the end of the kitchen's island. My thoughts must've taken up a lot of time, because my once scolding coffee was now cool to the touch. My eyes trace up to meet Matilda's smiling face. She'd wear fuzzy, long sleeve pajamas, and her hair would stick up around her head. She was the definition of bed-head.

"Oh- good morning." I blink a few times, regaining my focus.

"Morning- Are you okay?" Matilda questions me, her face filled with worry.

"Yeah? Why do you ask?" I take a deep breath as my stomach starts to twist. I'd hold in the pain though, it had been happening for the past week, the flu was bound to come as some point.

"Uh... Have you looked in the mirror?" She asks me, leaning on the side of the island. "You are paler than a ghost, and you just look- terrible."

"Wow, thanks." I feel my eyes roll as I take a sip of my cold coffee. "Ew..." My voice sounds, reacting to the coldness of the drink.

"No, like seriously. You look sick. I think we should take you to a doctor." She looks to me with full seriousness. But I shake my head 'no', waving her off.

"I'm fine. It's probably just a stomach bug. Don't worry about it." My legs start to move, stepping onto the cold tile. I slide my body off the chair, but once the weight of myself reaches my feet, my legs give out and I fall to my knees. What the hell is wrong with me?

"Laine. You are not fine." She tells me sternly, walking a few steps from the kitchen, to the stairs. "Jason!" She calls loudly up the stairwell.

I can hear a muffled 'Yeah?' coming from Jason as he walks to the top of the staircase. Matilda would wave him down, rushing back to my side, trying to help me up. Jason soon reaches me as well, a worried expression playing out on his face.

"What happened?" He questions, kneeling by me, and helping his wife lift me to my feet.

"I think she needs to see a doctor." Matilda starts. "When I came down, she was in a sort of daze, pale, and just looking sick. Then, when she stood, she fell."

"Looks like you won't be walking for a bit." Jason shrugs, trying not to freak out at my odd behavior. "Tilly, go get the keys and start the car. I'll help her out." Jason looks to Matilda, pointing to where he had left them.

She'd rush away to the front of the house, and Jason would look to me. "Mind if I carry you out? I don't want you to hurt yourself anymore." He asks for my consent, holding me up as I lean on the island.

I'd nod quickly, my legs fatigued from standing this long. He'd turn to his side, lifting me bridal-style, and walking slowly out of the house. He was very careful, fearing that I'd be hurt in the process. He'd carry me to the car, putting me in it as if I were a small child. He'd buckle me in, no matter how many times I swatted his hand away, saying "I can do it myself."

He'd jump in the passenger's seat, seeing as Matilda was already in the driver's. We weren't in any rush, so Matilda drove like a normal human being. Which is actually sort of crazy when you actually get to know her.

We arrived at the hospital about a half an hour after our departure from the house. I really don't want to be here. Hospitals and doctors are my enemy. They are what killed my mother, and I will never forget it. The only thing these places bring are death.

Jason carried me into the waiting room, while Matilda grabbed the paperwork we needed to fill out for the visit. He sat me in one of the chairs, and he pulled out my new social security number and I.D.

"Forgot to give these to ya'," He tells me, handing the two cards over. "I got them in the mail about a week ago."

I took them, placing them on my lap and nodding. Anyone and everyone could see by my face that I didn't want to be here. Soon, Matilda came back with a clip board, pen, and a few papers. She handed them to me, taking a seat next to her husband.

It took me about five minutes and when I finished it, Jason took them up to the front desk.

"I'm sure it's nothing." I brush off, looking over to a weary Matilda.

"Hopefully," She sighs, holding up a pair of crossed fingers.

One hundred and forty questions and two blood tests later, the doctor came into the hospital room with my results. He had a stack of papers on his small clipboard, and the clip barely held them all.

I rolled my eyes at the scene, I still felt it was stupid that I was here. Nothing was wrong with me, I knew it for sure. The stomach bug was common, I hated how Jason and Matilda were wasting their money on something like this. I mean, I have to admit that my fall was a bit scary, but it's most likely caused by my lack of sleep the past week or two.

I woke up a dawn every morning, the sun hadn't even been up yet. Then, I'd rush to the bathroom, throwing up everything I ate the night before. After that whole mess, I wouldn't sleep the rest of the night. I was living off four hours of sleep, but I thought nothing of it.

The doctor smiled at me, sitting at the small desk in the office. He'd place the clipboard on the surface of it, scanning through the papers that lied on top. His smile never fell, which gave me a bit of relief and annoyance that I came here for nothing like I had thought.

"What is it doc'?" I question in the slot of silence between us. He'd look up from the papers, holding a finger up, signalling for me to wait a moment. He'd take out a pen, signing a few of them before handing the clipboard and pen to me.

"Congratulations Miss Hower!" He grinned as I scanned the papers he had given me. The first few pages were useless information, just telling me of the ratio of things in my blood and other random facts. About six pages in, I rested my eyes on my diagnosis. My body was morphed into confusion, my head spinning. My head darted up to the doctor, praying that this was a prank. Still, his grin remained bright.

"I'm fucking pregnant?!"