Chapter 3: Please Don’t Do It
(TYLER)
I thought I was in my worst situation when I overdosed. But now, I'm sure I was wrong. I spent almost a month at the hospital recovering from Jake's attempt to kill me. Yes-kill me. That's what he tried to do, but lucky for me, I was in the universe's good graces.
Jake knew quite well that I was an addict, and I can't really blame him for using me in exchange for the drugs, because if we're being honest, I let him. But taking advantage of my addiction to try and kill me was extreme. He knew the much I had taken, and he knew that if I took more of it, I'd be gambling with my life. And he sure as hell knew I couldn't resist the offer.
I still can't come to terms with the fact that he tried to kill me just because a condom broke. But truth be told, that's what it was.
It's been three months since the overdose. Sometimes, I still get nightmares of me struggling on the floor while Jake just stared at me and refused to help. But the real nightmare was what my doctor told me at the hospital. Turns out Jake's suspicion was right, but it still doesn't justify his attempt at getting rid of me. I am pregnant.
The first thing that came to my mind on hearing the news was getting rid of the baby. Don't get me wrong, I'm not evil-I just don't think carrying the devil's spawn sits right with me. When I asked the doctor for abortion referrals, he laughed at me and told me that our society didn't fancy getting rid of healthy babies.
Not that the one in my stomach was healthy, it wasn't by a long shot. That I knew, and I didn't even need any confirmation.
Also, part of me felt like our alpha omega-society was selfish-entitled. They had no right to force me to carry a child I damn well knew I couldn't take care of. I had had more than enough of my fair share of a tough life, hopping from shelter to shelter, having no place to call home.
I dont care about the Satan's spawn in my stomach like that. I'm just not heartless enough to bring it into a world where I can barely take care of it. I mean, I can't even take care of myself.
Once or twice, I thought of taking those concentrated concoctions, the ones rumored to get the job done. Other times I thought of throwing myself down the stairs. I was that desperate, yet none of those options were appealing. Yes, I was willing to do anything on the face of this earth to rid myself of this baby, I just didn't want to off myself in the process.
After all, Jake had shown me I feared dying.