Note to Self: Just Breathe

I gave them the letter the night after, leaving it on their bed to find. But nothing became of it. I won’t say I was disappointed because I wasn’t hoping that something would happen. I just did it to prove that they didn’t really give a shit. I was right.

Aidan came with me to the abortion clinic. They believed that Linda was my mum and that Aidan would be the father’s baby and it was an accident. If only they knew. They agreed I could have the abortion pill. I would take a tablet at the clinic, and then 24-72 hours later I would take second pill, killing the foetus.

In all my life I never considered I would have an abortion. I never really even considered having children. I hated the fact that I had my own flesh and blood inside of me and that I was killing it. But it had to be done. There were no other alternatives. The time may come in my life when I regret it, but for now it was for the best.

I had only taken the first tablet, so Aidan decided that to cheer me up that we should go out. Lift the mood. We went back to the club. I know many people will disagree with what I did. That I should be mourning over my life and my unborn baby’s life. And I was grieving—my way.

I put on a little black dress and this time a pair of heels. I curled my hair and put on some mascara and then I was done.

Me and Aidan was soon at the club and the bouncer let us in although there was a queue outside.

“How about a little competition. You on?” He shouted over the music.

“Sure.” I agreed, my competitive streak already taking place.

“Who can fuck the most people.” He smirked.

“You’re on.” And then we went our own ways.

I headed off to the bar, needing a drink. I got some vodka straight up and soon I was joined by some male. He looked about 19, with dirty blonde hair and tanned skin.

“Mind if I join?” He asked.

I nodded, handing him some drinks and then we were away.

He pulled into me for a kiss, and I felt him push something in my mouth. It was a tab. I swallowed it and began to pull him with me towards one of the many rooms they had here. That is what I loved about this club; it was like a party at a house full of bedrooms. I pulled him through an unlocked door, locking it shut behind me and pushing him down on to the bed...

After I was done with him we both stumbled out the door and went our own ways again. I began to move towards the dancing when I felt someone hold on to my arm. I looked at the stranger and he inclined his head to one of the bedrooms. I nodded and he pulled me back to the bedroom I had just used.

My night continued in a similar pattern. I had sex with a total of 7 different people and I was enjoying it. I had taken weed, tab, ecstasy and some dope. I admit that after each time I fucked someone I felt dirty and used, so I seeked comfort in someone else. It was an unendless cycle.

I had finally managed to get back to the bar and I ordered even more vodka.

“Hey,” I smooth voice said.

I ignored him, shooting back even more drink.

I felt him come and stand next to me. “I said hey,” he repeated.

“I heard,” I answered back.

“So why didn’t you answer me?” he asked.

I shrugged my shoulders, chucking another drink in my mouth.

“I think it’s because I’m not taking your arm and leading you to one of those rooms like all those other men have been doing.”

I ignored him. “I’ve been watching you all night. You’re rather interesting to watch.” He told me. The guy was seriously getting on my nerves, presuming he knew me.

“How so?” I snapped.

“You want attention. You want to feel loved, and the only way to achieve that is when you have some guy fucking you. Do you like that feeling? Because when you come out of the rooms you always look down.”

“Oh, just fuck off! Don’t presume to know me when you don’t. Don’t believe that you’re going to be my savoir. If you’re not gonna fuck me then fuck off.”

“So is that it?” he asked calmly. “You just want sex?”

“Of course you prat. Why else would I come to a club other than to get wasted and fucked?”

“You might be looking for that special someone” He told me. “And that special someone could be me,” he said cockily.

“Do yourself a favour and fuck off. I’m not looking for anyone other than to shag,”

“Fine,” he said, walking off.

I met up with Aidan soon after. “How many?” I asked.

“7. You?” He asked confidently.

“7” His smirk drooped.

“Oh, fucking hell!”

“Come on, let’s just go home.”