For those eight days my hours were not only spent cramming for tests, my mind was full of my sister. I could have sent her text messages or emails but...I didn’t. She hadn’t sent me any either. For those eight days I wondered what the hell we should do about her carrying my baby. More to the point, what she should do? There were only two options, go to term or not, but the choice wasn’t mine.“It just never occurred to me that you could knock me up, I mean you’re my brother, that’s not supposed to. She started going through the mental inventory of body parts. Ribs? It hurt to breathe, so she had a couple of cracked ribs. She gingerly moved her arms, legs, fingers, and toes. She was relieved to discover that there weren’t any casts. There weren’t any broken bones. She tried to locate a muscle that wasn’t screaming out in pain and failed, miserably.She knew it was going to hurt to get up and try to move around. She would have bruises that would look horrible for the next couple of weeks. It. More

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