“When did you decide to make such a decision?” My mother asks me, wiping away her tears. I stare at my feet. “Well…?” she says, turning her body to completely face me. I take a deep breath.
“Last Sunday, after church.” I answer without looking up. It wasn’t my fault, it really wasn’t. My mom searches me, as if she thinks I’m lying. I notice, of course.
“Mom, I’m not lying. I’m not. It was…. special.” I answer lamely. She rolls her eyes.
“Special, huh? It wont be too special when you can’t graduate high school or go off to college.” Tears stream down both of our faces.
“I’m sorry. I am.” I say and get up. Talk over, I’m going to call the person who did this to me. I’m going to call the person who got me pregant.