Our Bodies, Our Choice

1. Nora

Missouri.

I haven’t taken my eyes off the computer screen since this ingrate started spewing his shit at four p.m. Listening to hate speech fly from the oversized fuck-hole that is his mouth, is driving me crazy.

There clearly wasn’t enough chlorine in his family gene pool because how in the fuck…

did anyone create such a snivelling little cunt like him.

The man in question… Robert Evans.

Apparently, women and ‘the gays’ as he so disgustingly puts it, have become unreasonable, uncontrollable, and we all need to be stopped before we ruin the country and take over… or some bullshit like that. And according to this motherfucker, I hit the top three on his shit list.

“It’s laughable how fucking stupid women are.” Robert laughs, snatching the microphone from the table he sits behind, and bringing it closer to his mouth.

“Pendejo,” I mumble, screwing my face up slightly because even though I’m sick to fucking death of hearing this little chingada madre talk so much crap, I’m surprised he isn’t shitting out of his mouth.

“After all that time protesting, chanting, and walking the streets together crying about how we all need to take a stand… Well, we did, and we won, while you…. failed miserably.”

His laughter at the screen fills me with fucking rage, but I remain stoic. I just continue eating my dry-roasted peanuts, watching this man continue to dig his own grave.

“Men are the better sex. We are far more superior, stronger, more intellectual, and just all around better than you!!!”

“How long have you been listening to this shit?” my sister Paz says as she stops beside me, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

Popping another peanut in my mouth, I shrug. “Too long.”

“Well, turn it off. The Coursing is starting in a few hours, and we need to get out of the state and into the safe zone as quickly as—”

“You’ll never have any rights, whores. Because what I know—and every other fucking man in this country knows—is that it might be your body, but it will always be our fucking choice.

” He begins laughing hysterically. What little expression I had on my face, drops.

Both me and my sister standing there in silence.

“We own you. We control you. We are the superior species overall.”

There are red hearts from people liking his live feed, bouncing all over the screen; comments flying through the chat, shares, follower count… everything is getting higher.

“How long do we have?” I question, turning to face Paz.

“Five hours until we need to be on the bus, but—”

“Good. Call Sky, tell her I need a favour, and I need it quickly.”

“Nora, we can do this another time, but right now—”

“Now, Paz!” I snap. “The full works, make sure she knows nothing is to be missed.

“Okay.”

Since all of this started, I’ve been terrified of what the outcome would be.

Hoping, and praying, that everyone would see the danger in voting for a system such as this, but here I am—among many others throughout America—watching this disgusting law play out in real time.

We’re not safe. Not that we were in the beginning, but now it’s…

become legal. Women, and those of the LGBTQIA+ community aren’t safe anywhere, anymore.

Even those who side with us, protect us, love us.

They’re not safe, either. Sooner or later only those who choose to follow the regime will be kept alive…

Which is a hell of a lot more than you think.

No one can be trusted anymore. All it took was for one person to have an idea, generate a following of those with a like-minded thought process, and before we knew it America as we knew it was overrun with more hate than I’ve ever seen before.

So now, we have to run.