Jay-Jay's POV
Spring's promise curdled cruel one gray dawn—sharp cramps twisting like old knife scars reopening, blood staining sheets before coffee brewed. Hospital lights blurred cold, doctors murmuring "miscarriage" like a sentence, Keifer's hand crushing mine white-knuckled as they confirmed no heartbeat. Our mini-queen or king—gone at twelve weeks. Tests flashed negative, world tilting silent. Section E waited outside: Rakki's texts unread, Serina's calls ghosted, C-in's flower crowns wilted on the doorstep.
Flat turned tomb—mango saplings drooping, blue beads mocking empty cradles, "Ulupong Blue" boxes stacked judging. Mornings dragged hollow: coffee cold untouched, ring heavy as grief, bracelet clinks echoing accusations. Afternoons vanished curled fetal, therapy journals blank, Rakki's pop-ups ignored ("Shop closed—personal"). Nightmares roared back fiercer: comas blending baby losses, Kaizer's smirks taunting "Unbreakable? Broken." Keifer hovered gentle, but touches burned pity. "Space," I whispered, walls slamming.
Fun walks skipped; mirrors avoided—eyes hollow, belly mocking flat. Serina arrived soft-spoken adobo untouched: "Anak, grieve with family." Pushed away. Horizons collapsed—empires dust, love cracked. Depression swallowed whole, darkness queen now. Unbreakable? Shattered glass.
I felt like I was died inside