My Boyfriend Called Me a Whore, So I Removed My Womb

The day before military training began, I quietly took a leave of absence. I went to the hospital to apply for a hysterectomy.

In my previous life, my roommate shamelessly fooled around with Black foreign students, never once using protection.

Yet no matter how reckless she was, she never got pregnant. I, on the other hand, did eighteen times in just half a year.

After countless miscarriages, my body could no longer take it. I was forced to carry the last one to term.

When my parents saw the dark-skinned baby, they hurled me out of the house.

“We don’t have such a disgraceful daughter!”

My boyfriend spat in my face. “Why don’t you just die? You filthy whore!”

Rumors spread like wildfire across campus. I lost my spot in the guaranteed graduate program. The school urged me to withdraw.

I finally saw through everything and stormed up to my roommate.

“You’re the one sleeping around with Black guys, why am I the one who keeps getting pregnant?”

She sneered and shoved me down the stairs.

I was still bleeding from childbirth, my body too frail to take the blow. I died right then and there.

When I opened my eyes again, it was the day before military training began.

——

“Brother, I’ll wait for you in the woods tonight, okay?”

The moment I heard those familiar words, a shiver ran through me. My whole body froze. And in that instant, I knew I had been reborn.

After tearfully saying goodbye to her Black boyfriend, Aimee McKeen suddenly latched onto my arm.

“Kelsey Morrone, there are a lot of Black exchange students here. Why don’t you try dating one too?”

I gently pulled my arm away.

“No need. I already have a boyfriend.”

Aimee gave me a knowing smile, eyes gleaming with something unspoken.

“Kelsey, being with a Black guy is a totally different experience. Just try it once, you’ll be hooked. I promise, it’s unforgettable.”

I stepped back, uneasy.

“Then enjoy it yourself. I’m not interested.”

Her smile vanished. Her voice turned cold.

“Really don’t know what’s good for you.”

That was when one of our other roommates, who had been silent until now, finally spoke up, her voice edged with frustration.

“Aimee, I’ve heard Black guys can be really wild. As girls, we should at least have some self-respect.”

Aimee shot me a sharp look and said, “Come on, what era are we in? Society’s open now. We should enjoy life while we can, not stay stuck in old thinking.”

The others stopped trying to argue. One of them gently reminded, “Just make sure you use protection. We’re still in school. If you get pregnant, it could ruin everything.”

Aimee flipped her hair and smirked.

“You don’t get it. Skin-to-skin feels the best. And I’m not going to get pregnant.”

As she said it, her eyes landed on me, full of unspoken meaning.

In my past life, Aimee chased after thrill after thrill, never once bothering with protection. She slept with Black exchange students across campus, one after another.

And yet, not once did she get pregnant.

Me? I somehow ended up pregnant eighteen times in a row.

After countless miscarriages, I had no choice; I was forced to give birth to the last one.

When my parents saw the dark-skinned baby, they threw me out without a second thought.

“We don’t have a daughter as shameless as you!”

My boyfriend spat with disgust, “Why don’t you just go die, you filthy whore!”

Rumors swept through the school like a wave. I lost my chance at grad school and had to drop out.

It didn’t take long before I saw the truth; it all traced back to Aimee. I confronted her, burning with rage.

“You’re the one sleeping with Black men. Why was I the one who kept getting pregnant?”

In the heat of the argument, she pushed me down the stairs.

Still weak after childbirth, I bled to death on the cold, hard floor.

All the pain from my past life came crashing back. My fists clenched, nails biting into my palms as I held back the urge to strangle Aimee right then and there.

Aimee, as if nothing had happened, casually pulled out a few packets of herbal tea.

“This is a specialty from our region, flower tea brewed with Hexseed. Great for beauty, skincare, and losing weight. Everyone should try it.”

The other roommates stared at her in disbelief.

“Aimee, don’t tell me you’re one of those legendary South Dakota priestesses? I heard Hexseed from South Dakota can even raise the dead!”