Angela, the pregnant 12-year-old.He was a drunk. She was a whore. Can I make it any more obvious?
I sat in the bathroom, staring at the pregnancy test. This can't be happening,I thought miserably. It was just a one-night stand. Why would this happen to me, of all people? He was just drunk, and I was just bored. He was also really hot. If you asked me his name, I wouldn't be able to answer. I think it started with a D. I'll just call him Dick.
I picked up my phone and frantically dialed my best friend's number.
"Stacy," I breathed.
"That was really creepy, Angela. The hell are you doing? Don't tell me you're drowning again," replied Stacy, my savior and best friend.
"Stacy, I'm pregnant," I said quietly, so my parents would not overhear. They were pounding on the door, probably convinced that I fell into the toilet. Just like last time.
The line went dead.
"That bitch..." I mumbled to myself. No wonder I hated her guts. I then dialed my other friend, George. George Finley.
"George," I breathed, but not as creepily this time.
"Angela? What's up?" he asked.
I was so lucky he was my manfriend. It was so good to have somebody over the age of eighteen who loved you like a daughter.
"George... I'm pregnant," I said, then hung up.
I got another call, from George. I hit ignore. It was too scary to imagine what he would say.
I quickly threw the pregnancy test down the toilet, flushed, and then brushed my hair, deep in thought. Should I abort? But I've wanted a baby all my life. Ever since I turned eleven. I decided to have the child.
"MOM. DAD. STOP BANGING ON THE DOOR I DIDN'T DROWN," I screamed, and the banging ceased. Finally.
I patted my perfect little tummy, and then exited the bathroom. I raced to my room, where I took out my special bottle of everclear. After a few sips, I felt like I could think clearly.
Then I passed out.
Chapter 2 will come soon.
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