call transcript from 19/01/17
her: OMG are you okay? How's the baby?
me: Both fine. I guess.
her: Stop. Stop lying. What did that son of a bitch do? I'm going to kill him, prison or not.
me: Nothing. He can't do anything; he's incarcerated for god's sake. The most harm he can do is call me. Besides, I haven't spoken to him since last year.
her: So it's the other one. What did he do? And also, why are you not talking to your baby daddy? Girl, I love you, but you cannot raise this baby on your own. No offense, but you're not capable.
me: The other one didn't do anything. And I know I can't raise the baby on my own. Which is why I'm thinking of-
her: Girl! You are not aborting it!
me: You're not even the one with this stupid fetus and placenta inside of you! You're not the one experiencing morning sickness and everything, going through hell!
her: Yeah, for a reason. You know that.
a mocking scoff, and then a reply in an imitating voice
me: Yeah, cause of that car accident.
her: You know I'm infertile. You know, I'd never thought you'd stoop that low, bringing up my car accident. You know what? I'm done. Call me or text me when you're not so oblivious to others' trauma and problems. When you're done acting like you're the only fucking bitch in this world, maybe then I can tolerate you.
her: Until then, bitch all you want. Abort the baby for all I care; she doesn't deserve to have a whore of a teenage mother and a felon for a dad. She deserves better than you both.
me: Yeah, someone like you? If you could get pregnant, of course.
her: Goodbye. Have a nice life, continue sucking old men off for money because loads of your parents' hard earned money is not enough for the slut to fulfill her wants.
click. call ends.
The prosecutor looks at me. Again. No expression this time, as if she's used to it by now. "Why wasn't your parents' money enough for you? Why go out of your way, offering yourself like a free item, practically going into prostitution? Of course, if what she said was or is true."
"Prostitution is nice. No rules, just casual fun," I answered.
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Pulchritude
Short Storyshe was pulchritudinous, and that pulchritude did both wonders and horrors for her. told in the form of voicemails, call transcripts, and other forms of communication
