Aislinn 'Star' Stephenson

***CONTENT WARNING!***

Do not read further if the subject matter of blood, childbirth, or labor complications is triggering for you.

You have been warned!

Alec and his wife took me in without a second thought. They took me away from Dublin and away from Eire altogether. We all made a home in London. They taught me even more how to get by as a proper Roma woman. Telling fortunes, singing, turning a trade. They helped me get through that pregnancy. I've had more than a few people ask me if the thought ever crossed my mind to end it. That answer was no.

The first time I ever laid eyes on her, I was almost six months pregnant. I'd started having complications that the midwife couldn't deal with so I had to go to a regular gadje doctor. She had me go get an ultrasound. That gel was so cold but then he put that want on my stomach and I forgot about it. There she was. Her tiny little fist balled up and raised at the wand. Her little face all scrunched together like she was mad at the tech for disturbing her. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I went back to the kumpania with pictures of her to show around while the babas all gushed over my stomach.

The next 12 weeks passed in a blur until I woke up early one morning in so much pain that my eyes literally crossed for a few moments. It was too soon. She was early. She still had four more weeks to grow. I tried to stand up. To make it through the camper to get to the phone Alec and Satima had put it for me. I made it probably five steps before I felt a ripping sensation in my stomach and my knees gave out.

The scream I let out cut through the wall of the camper to one of the late-night workers coming home. He came running of course and found me on the floor writhing and covered in blood. I begged him to help but he disappeared out the door. I thought I was dying. I thought my baby was dying. In what felt like forever for me but was probably only a few moments the midwife came through the door. She and what turned out to be her son dragged me out of the camper to where the ambulance could reach me.

I don't remember much after that. Just flashes really. And blood. Too much blood. I remember my doctor meeting us at the hospital. I remember begging her to save the baby, not me. Just save my baby. The last thing I remember was her smiling down at me with these sweet, warm eyes telling me it's all going to be ok.

Then I woke up to the most amazing sound ever. I came round in the ward with the sound of my baby's cries followed by Alec's deep timbre voice soothing her. And Satima coming over to me when she heard my groans. I opened my eyes to a tiny bundle being bounced in the arms of the man she would come to know as her Pap-pap.

All I could do was cry when Alec brought her over to me with a big proud smile on his face. With Satima telling me how proud she was of me and how well the baby was doing. I had been out for almost a week. The doctor told them I had had something called a placental abruption, that's what the tearing I felt was. The placenta pulling away from the uterine wall. If Jeric had been any slower in getting his mum, I would have been dead. And so would my little Ronaan.

***CONTENT WARNING!***

Do not read further if the subject matter of child brides, sex slavery, or child sex-slavery is triggering for you.

You have been warned!

So you want to know about me, then? Want me to tell my story? Where should I start then? The beginning? I was born in Dublin to an extremely strict and old fashioned Romani family. So old fashioned that I wasn't sent to school. I only knew enough reading, writing, and math to be able to cook and bake. You don't need to read to make babies. That's what my mother always said.

So extremely old fashioned that I was 13 when I married my first husband. Yes. You read that right. Romani girls were married young to have the greatest chance of making lots of babies. I lasted all of a year. No babies came. My husband punished me. I ran away.

I didn't know where I was going or what I was doing. I just knew I could stay there. I knew I had these powers. These abilities that I could use for somethings. They didn't always work and when they didn't I wouldn't be right for a bit. When they did work they left me tired and weak. I knew my mother could do those things too so I broke back into their house and stole her books to learn with.

That's when my life really started. And boy what a life. At 14 with little to no education and no "marketable" skills, I was left on the street for a while. Like many "street kids" I learned fast how to survive. Like many of the Rom, I had a natural knack for pickpocketing and other "illicit" activities. Yes. It's cliche as fuck. Thieves... whores... Cutthroats. But it put food in my belly and a sort of roof over my head.

I met Donal when I had been wandering those streets for a few months. He seemed nice at first. Took in a starving, cold, and lonely kid. Gave her a warm, dry place to sleep. That went on for a few weeks. Enough to get me worn down and trusting him. Then I had to start repaying that kindness.

It started with him. Giving him what he wanted. It wasn't like I wasn't aware of how that worked. I did what I had to do. And besides, he was nice to look at and he was good in bed.

Soon after that is when he started making me sleep with others though. And taking money for it. I was moved from Donal's room in my own run down trash head of a room with just a dresser, nightstand, bed and bathroom. I was really paying my way then. They weren't so nice. Some of them weren't at least. Get in, get off, and get out.

Donal changed then too. He became cruel. Physical if I dared to turn him down or didn't make enough money. You know how that story goes.

I did that for almost a year. Until I missed my period for the first time ever. I was 15 and pregnant. I couldn't keep doing what I was doing. That lifestyle was none for a baby. For the second time, I ran away with just my clothes, a bit of money, and a determination to never be that desperate again. That was how I met Alec and my first real kumpania. My first real home.