I write in Jamaican Standard English which is a slightly different version from British English. Some words are spelt differently from American English, for example: realize is realise, favor is favour, etc...
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I looked down at the purple and white pregnancy test. It told me what I already feared. I'm pregnant. I'm an eighteen-year-old pregnant woman who was still in high school. I sighed and ran my hands through my hair. So many questions were running through my mind. How is William going to respond? Will he be happy or sad? I knew he loved me, he told me every day, but a baby can change things.
Most importantly, how would my mother respond? She would definitely be disappointed since I followed her footsteps by getting pregnant in High school. But she wouldn't react too bad right? She had me when she was sixteen, and I'm two years older than that. I'll survive just like she did.
I stood from the toilet seat and placed the pregnancy test in my bag. I exit the stall, then washed my hands. I walked out of the bathroom and made my way back to the lunchroom.
"Hey, babe," William said as he saw me walking towards our usual table. "What took you so long?"
"Can we talk?" I asked without acknowledging the other persons around the table.
He gave me a small smile, causing his brown eyes to light up, "Sure."
I walked ahead of him until we enter one of the janitor's closets. William, thinking this was going to be one of our makeout sessions, smashed his lips on mine. I wasn't having it, so I pulled away.
"What's wrong?" he asked with frustration in his voice.
"I'm pregnant." I looked at his face waiting for a positive reaction, but I got the opposite.
"What?" he scolded.
"I'm pregnant," I repeated.
He shook his head, "That can't be mine."
I raised my eyebrows at him, "Of course it's yours. You're the only person I've ever had sex with."
All the softness that was on his face was now gone, "Really because I saw Peter grabbing your butt the other day and you didn't stop him or tell him off."
I rolled my eyes, "Peter does that to everyone. He's only my friend. I've only been intimate with you."
He hissed his teeth, "Stop lying! Everyone knows you're a bitch. You sleep around. Just like your mother." Before I could think I lifted my hands and slapped him across his face. How dare he speak about my mother. She worked so hard to provide for me all by herself, and he was calling her a prostitute.
Alton was a small town, and so when a single mom moves to town with her daughter, she gets attention. There was no doubt, my mother has dated a few of the men around town, but she wasn't selling her body to them.
He wasn't the first persons I've heard with it, and he most likely won't be the last.
"Listen to me, you jerk. Never call my mother a whore again. She raised me by herself without the help of a man, so don't you dare disrespect her. She's twice the woman your golddigger of a mother will be." I never meant to call his mother a golddigger, but he was always going around telling people what a golddigger she was, so why not throw it back in his face.
"Good, because you're going to be just like your mother and raise this baby on your own because It's not mine and I don't want it." he barked out the words before he exits the closet making sure to slam the door.
I took a deep breath, and the tears that were hiding fell. How could he be so cruel? Only yesterday he was telling me he loved me, yet he didn't mean it because he thought I was sleeping with Peter. All along, he was using me for sex. Why didn't I realize it until now?
The 'I love you babe' and the 'You mean the world to me' was all a ploy to get in my pants and I fell for it, every single time.
I sat down on the cleaning equipment and cried my eyes out.
At least I still have my mother.
I looked at my mother as she placed the grocery bags on the table. "Hey, baby. Are you okay? You don't look so well. Is everything okay?"
"Mom," I sobbed.
She rushed to my side to console me. She wrapped her hands around my shoulder. "What's wrong, baby? Why are you crying?"
I shook my head. I couldn't tell her. Not after she's worked so hard to put food on the table. Not when she just came from a long day at the diner. Not when she's had a long day of nasty customers.
"Tell me."
"I'm pregnant." Her arms went rigid, and she released me from her hug. She stood from the couch and looked at me.
She shook her head. "No. You're not pregnant." I could see the thoughts running through her mind as she thinks about history repeating itself.
"I am. I found out today." A few tears fell from my eyes. "William doesn't want the baby."
She shook her head, "How could you? You see me struggle to make ends meet and you go get yourself pregnant!" she shouted.
"It was an accident." William always used a condom, I made sure of it, but something must have gone wrong the last time we had sex.
"An accident." she paused. "Just like you. No. You're not an accident. You were a mistake. I should have listened to my mother and got an abortion." Her cruel words cut through me like a poisonous knife. "Get out!" she shouted, pointing to the door.
"What?" she couldn't be serious.
"I said get out," she repeated.
"Mom," I pled. She didn't mean it. She loved me.
"Get the hell out of my house. Go find that boyfriend of yours and let him take care of you because I don't spend my money on whores."
The tears fell rapidly from my eyes. "Mom, you can't do this. I'm your daughter."
"My parents kicked me out when I decided I was going to keep you and so I'm kicking you out too. After everything that I've done for you, this is my payback. Get out before I throw you out."
I flinched at her words and stood from the couch. I started to walk towards the bedroom but stopped when she called out, "Where do you think you're going? The door is that way." she fumed.
"I'm going for my things."
"What things? You've never worked a day in your life, so you don't own anything in this house."
"Mom" I pled again. This couldn't be happening to me.
"Get out! You're nothing but a nasty whore. Go let the man who got you pregnant care for you." her words hurt so much and I couldn't take it anymore, so I did what she was asking and left the one-bedroom apartment.
What do I do now?
I'm homeless and pregnant.
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Pregnant and Homeless✔
RomancePregnant at eighteen, alone and homeless. Jakobia is hopeless. Her ex accused her of cheating and refused to accept his paternity, her mother kicked her out, and she's been forced to move constantly, in an effort to find a stable place to live. Fat...