Remember this Face, Baby.
At the young age of sixteen, I got pregnant.
I was young, stupid and naive. I thought when I told David I was pregnant with his child he would automatically jump up with joy and pull me into his arms – the same arms I had grown so accustomed to and the same arms, that later would push me out of his life. Deep down, I had known the famous quarterback and most popular boy at Ryerson wouldn’t accept the fact that he was a father at sixteen. But I had thought David was different from all the others and that he loved me, but he turned out being just like the rest of them – a jerk, who had only used a simple girl for sex.
He, later, went on denying the child growing inside me was his. I had been able to handle it and even though his rejection had hurt me worst than any pain I had ever felt, I moved on. But it hadn’t been enough for him – like the denial against his child hadn’t been enough against me.
He created a reputation for me and turned everyone against me. I had become a villain over night. In two years, one immature boy had turned my life completely upside down and I was hated by all who knew my name. He made my life a living hell.
David may think he won the battle, but it only has begun.
