I had to do it. That was the right thing to do.
After all, the fat devil had to pay for it. I can't complain, though he started whining about the cost the moment I stepped out of that filthy dark den.
The doctor was a woman. An old tired looking woman. She had this blank expression in her eyes as she started her business with me. It's as if she's been doing it her entire damn life and she just couldn't give a fuck to make judgments on women who choose to get rid of the unwanted.
Irresponsible women...heartless...those with ambition...we're all the same. We come here because we're fucked.
And then we step out...go on with our lives...reminding ourselves every single miserable minute that we had to do it. It was for the best. Not that there's hope for my life to get any better.
It was scary. Dirty. Evil. But what made it worse was the memory that came back to me. The reason why my life has turned to be a fairy fucking tale. That woman.
