A pathetic phone call in the middle of the night.
Just like every other night. From the drunk, drugged up man she calls her boyfriend. Calls, tells her she's a bitch, tells her he'll give her what she's good for. Every night. Yells at her, screams at her to come pick him up from the bar he's been at all night. All night, every night. Always. Tells her how, if he wanted, he could get millions of other girls who are just the same, no, better than her. Every night, always, and she listens to it. Every single word. He finally says, "Oh, and baby, you know I love you." She just hangs up and mutters to herself, "Love you. Like the hell I do." But she knows she's lying to herself. And In the middle of the night, when he stumbles home, it'll be her holding his greasy hair away from his face as he vomits into the toilet. And in the morning when he's hungover, it'll be her getting the Advil. All night, and every single day.

This is the rest of her life.
♠ ♠ ♠
I think this is my favorite chapter. Something about it gets to me.