“Stop it!” she screamed as she chucked a paintbrush at his throat.
“What! You know you’re a worthless bitch,” he retorted.
“No, you wanted that abortion and you know it!”
She stopped midway of throwing something across the studio, and looked into his eyes.
“I never wanted that abortion,” she said in a whisper. “I would never want to have one of those. The only reason I went through with it was because of you. You manipulated me, a young helpless girl, into having your child ripped out from her woumb for your benefit. And ever since that day I have regretted it. I can’t barely live with myself because of it. And I don’t know how you can either.”
“Fuck off you post menopausal bitch. I didn’t do a damn thing.”
“A damn thing!” she began to yell.
She was quickly muted as a glass vase impacted her skull, and knocked her to the ground.
Unable to move all she could see was her latest painting thrashed against the ground. The wet paint had started to run causing the sky to fall.