17 and Pregnant.

"What are you talking about?", he finally opened the door, sounding pissed.

"Oh, thanks for opening up. May I come in?", I asked sweetly.

He only pushed the door open further, making creek. I happily stepped in, falling onto his huge-ass bed.

"So? What do you want?", he started, trying to get rid of me.

"I want you to listen. First of all, I know it was you. Don’t deny it, and don’t be pissed with me. I should be the one pissed with you, okay? I actually thought you would wait, but no you had to rape me at this fucking party, when I was more than just drunk."

"I - I'm sorry. I didn’t want to do that okay? I was wasted, and high. I couldn’t think properly." He always tried talking himself out of everything, though this wasn’t at all possible this time.

"Well, I'm glad you regret it, though you did it and see what it made us?! We used to be happy, I used to be happy with you, but now you're just avoiding me. I haven't even talked to you in over a month."

"I thought you broke up with me.", he stated simply, his head hanging low.

"What? I never did that. I just didn’t want to see you at first. You fucking raped me, do you understand what I was like? I was a wreck after this happened."

"Okay I got it. I'm sorry. I thought you didn’t want to talk to me anymore. I thought I blew it. No sane human would want to be with the one who raped them."

"Well, I'm not sane then. Anyways, there's something else. I can only blame you for this, sorry, but it's your fault."

"What is my fault? God dammit.", he was so frustrated, wanting to know what I was talking about. It wasn’t easy to tell for me, I thought he was going to leave me as soon as I told him.

"I - Don’t be mad. Please don’t leave me because of this, okay?"

"Promise, now what is it?"

"I - I'm p - pregnant", I stuttered shame overwhelming me.

"Oh my fucking god." It was his only response, before he came closer, hugging me tightly. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He repeated these words over and over again, as if I had to be calmed. Though it was more comforting himself than me, I had been over the fact already. I knew what it was like to find out that you're going to be a parent. I had dealt with the fact for over a month. Now he had to get used to the fact. I was definitely going to keep the baby, and I wanted him to be there for me, for our child. Even if I couldn’t get him back, I needed him to care for his son or daughter. The child deserved to have a father.

I never understood how people could raise their kids alone. There was something missing, when they only had one parent. All the people I knew, who were raised like this, wanted to get to know their father or mother, whomever they didn’t know.

Having their parents is important for a child, just like having his childhood, going to kindergarten and elementary like everyone else.
I always thought kids of celebrities were poor. They didn’t have the chance to grow up normally. They were put into special schools, only snobs were at. The kids had to learn playing the piano or speaking Chinese when they were five. It was just not right in my opinion.

I wanted my baby to have a normal life. To have a Mom and a Dad who care about him or her, to go to kindergarten and elementary, to make friends, who're just like them, to go to a public high school. I wanted my kid to live his life like he wanted it to be, not how I ordered it.