There is a young boy who often passes by my street and, every time he sees me, he points at my pregnancy and the only thing he says is: “You are carrying a serpent! Stop this pregnancy! Do not bring it into the world!”

Her clothes were still just as dirty.

But her eyes seemed even more intense.

“You again?” I said, annoyed.

The boy tilted his head slightly.

“You can still stop him,” he repeated.

I felt the anger rising inside me again.

“Enough of this nonsense!” I shouted.

The boy jumped out of the container and walked slowly towards me.

He didn’t seem to be afraid at all.

That made me uncomfortable.

Most children his age would have been scared after my reaction the day before.

But not him.

He stopped a few meters away.

He looked directly at my belly.

“It’s already growing,” she said in a low voice.

“Of course it’s growing!” I replied sarcastically. “It’s a baby.”

The boy slowly shook his head.

“No,” he said. “It’s not a baby.”

A shiver ran down my spine.

“Who are you really?” I finally asked.

The boy took a few seconds to answer.

—Only someone who can see it.

“See what?” I asked irritably.

—What you carry inside.

I crossed my arms.

“You’re a crazy kid,” I said. “And if you keep bothering me, I’ll call the police.”