Billy stood there like Uncle Sam in one of those I Want You posters from World war two, only, instead of pointing a finger at me, he held my sweater, soaked with my blood.
"Please," I asked, "Just don't hurt the baby."
"You'll both be fine. The only thing that I killed is this sweater."
He threw the sweater onto my stomach and walked out. I sit there in the corner and cry. Why do I love him? I must be crazy. I know I'm crazy,just like he's crazy. In a way, I guess he's my soulmate.
He walks in. "Well, ain't your'e life just SO BAD? You don't work! All you do is sit there-"
"NO! MY LIFE WOULD BE FINE--" My face stings. "IF IT WEREN'T FOR YOU!" He punches me back in the corner. He kickes me between the legs.
"You stupid wh**e! If you'd listen!
He kicks me.
"JUST!" He kicks again, in the thigh.
"F***ING!" In between the legs again.
"LISTEN!" In the stomach. He walks out, and the fly of my pants turns red. I cry harder. Why do I always come back? If I left him... I'd be a mom.
Is this love?