Someone I Once Knew.

Her eyes were swollen from lack of sleep as the nausea had abruptly woken her. She’d ran to the bathroom, narrowly missing the toilet the first time she heaved. Her midnight blue silk nightdress stained with the creamy white vomit. Her curly brown hair fell loosely around her face, and her pale lips fell open slightly as she placed her hand on the toilet seat, trying to steady herself.

She quickly pushed her hair out of her face as she threw up once more. Sweat had formed across her forehead and her breathing was heavy. Her cheek pressed against the cool pale white toilet seat. The coolness soothing the heat of her skin, it was comforting.

She wiped the tears that fell down her face, she hated being sick. She hated the taste of bile in her mouth and the feel of it rising up in her throat. She retched and her head flung forward into the toilet as she threw up again. More tears formed in her eyes, and the stench of her own vomit was making her gag even more.

She had been throwing up constantly for the past half an hour, she was worn out. Her head was burning and her throat was sore from the constant heaving. The smell was becoming unbearable and no matter how many times she pulled the flush, the smell continued to linger. It was knotted in her golden brown hair, and the taste remained in her mouth. Her clothes stained, and near ruined. Naturally, she looked a mess.

The nausea was fading and she felt she could move, she slowly stood up and went downstairs; craving a glass of water to help the burning in her throat. The feeling of the water trickling down her throat was soothing, and the nausea had almost completely gone. She sat down and rested her head on the kitchen table, “Fuck,” she muttered. Her mind was racing and her thoughts were all jumbled. What’s the matter with me? When was my last period? Could I possibly be pregnant? “Fuck,” she muttered again.

She’s staring at her belly; she’s too scared to touch it.
Imagining the feeling when it kicks inside her stomach.

+

Positive; the word she dreaded so badly. The sign she prayed wouldn’t appear. It had the ability to change her life completely, and she wished that it was negative. Really, she just wished everything would disappear. She wanted everything to be normal again, more than anything.

“What’s it say?” She was snapped back into reality as her friend, Lilly peeped her head around the toilet door. She was sitting on the toilet, staring at the little white stick that controlled the fate of her future.

“P-positive,” she stuttered. Tears were slipping down her face, and a wave of confusion took over her. Lilly opened the door fully, and stepped in wrapping her arms around her, rocking her back and forth.

“Sssh, it’ll be okay, I promise.”

“Really?” She wiped her eyes, looking hopeful. She really wasn’t sure what to make of this situation; it was just too fucked up. She could barely be responsible for herself, let alone another human being. She didn’t think she could look after someone that relied solely on her, but on the other hand she desperately wanted to have someone to love her and to love back.

“Yes,” Lilly smiled, trying to reassure her. It wasn’t working, but at least she was trying.

“Lilly, what am I going to do?”

Give or take life, that’s her only options.
Only if she had a magic wand, she’d go back to that night
And put her clothes back on.
But she can’t change time, or what’s growing inside.
How could she love something that’s barely alive?

They sat on Grace’s sofa; not talking. Grace was staring blankly at the television screen which was playing some mindless sitcom, she didn’t know what it was, and she really wasn’t paying that much attention. Her mind was elsewhere.

How can you support a baby? You can’t even support yourself! You’ve only got two options, Grace. You either keep the baby, you give it up, or you... I can’t even think it!

“Grace, you know I’ll support you whatever you do, right?” It was as if she could hear her thoughts, she probably knew what she was thinking. She knew that Grace was arguing with herself in her head and she knew that it was an impossible decision.

“Hmm,” she looked down at her stomach which was still perfectly flat. She wondered how long it was until she got slightly bigger. It surprised her, how her stomach was still normal, somehow she thought that as soon as she realised she was pregnant that her stomach would swell and she would quite clearly be pregnant. Then everything would seem real, but maybe she never really wanted it to seem real.

She was completely overwhelmed. She really only had two options, and one of them scared her to pieces.

Abort – à bort’, v.i 1 to terminate the development of (a foetus), or a pregnancy (in a female).

“I have to get rid of it,” Grace looked blankly at the screen again; her face was cold and emotion-less. But inside it felt like her heart was being ripped into pieces, and she didn’t know if she could ever be happy or at least normal again.

Lilly nodded, and that was the end of the conversation. Never to be bought up again.

She can’t afford a baby on minimum wage pay checks.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want the baby, or that she didn’t love it already. She did, with all her heart. She couldn’t afford to have and look after a baby, let alone herself. Having the child just wasn’t practical.

She wasn’t sure if she agreed with abortion or not, but really it was her only choice. She didn’t think she could give the baby away, and she feared she would lose her job if she told them she was pregnant. If she kept the baby, not only could she lose her job, but her family would disown her. Having children out of wedlock just wasn’t acceptable in their eyes, and Grace often thought they were too old fashioned.

Abortions were frowned upon, of course. But Grace always thought what they didn’t know couldn’t hurt them, and this was just another situation that they didn’t need to find out about. But it was the biggest decision she’d ever have to make, it was like she was about to jump off of a rooftop just to see if she could fly. It was risking everything she’d ever known and loved, and it scared her to death.

Her body’s aching, shaking, from sweaty palms, and cold sweat.

Her breathing was restless and she was panting. She felt like something was weighing her body down, she couldn’t move. She felt a clawing at her stomach, petrified she tried to move again. She felt the tearing at her stomach again. Her eyes opened and she looked up, a black shadow stood before her scratching at her creamy white skin.

It had no face, no features; it was just a shadow of a man. But there was no man there, and this creature was still attacking her violently with his claws. She tried to move again, but she was stuck, something was pinning her down. She felt like a part of her was being removed, and she was in agony. She opened her mouth to let out a scream.

Her eyes flung open; the black shadow gone. The pain disappeared. But it was still there, in the back of her mind, still gnawing at her and something was still missing. There was still a huge fucking gaping hole in her stomach. And nothing was getting any better.

---

It was the day of the abortion, and her mind was racing. Nothing in her mind was clear, and it didn’t help that she was tired from a restless night. Her heart was pounding in her chest; she was surprised it was still beating the amount it was aching. “This isn’t right,” she muttered to herself. She reached towards the cold metal doorknob. It was a big old wooden door, and it reminded her of days gone past. She shut her eyes tightly and took in a deep breath, “I need to do this,” she whispered, she’d tried to reassure herself but when it came down to it she didn’t know if she’d be able to do it.

She found it ironic that the door was old fashioned, for one it reminded her of her parents and secondly it reminded her of the times when women had to hide if they had an abortion, it was always such a taboo, and she thought it still was to some extent. No one ever talked abortions, at least not in front of her. When she was at school they had never really talked about it, it was loosely mentioned and always made out to be a terrible thing.

If Grace was honest, she’d never really understood what it was until she was 18 and at university. One of her friends had a one night stand, forgotten to use protection. She didn’t realise until it was too late for the morning after pill, and by that point all she could do was just pray for the little plus to disappear. Much like Grace the morning she spent staring blankly at the little white stick.

She hesitated again before twisting the door knob, the interior was nothing like the outside, it was modern and clinical. It smelled strongly of disinfectant and Grace’s nose wrinkled slightly as she stepped through the entrance. Her heartbeat increased as she stepped towards the little help desk.

A glass shield covered the space between Grace and a blonde haired women with a pale gauntly face. She was dressed in a black suit and her hair was in a ponytail, with a few strands falling loosely across her face. She smiled briefly as Grace stepped towards the desk. “Hello, how may I help you?” she asked almost too cheerily. Grace felt her stomach turn as the voice pierced through her ear drums.

“Hi, I um have an appointment...” she said nervously, twiddling with her hair. She could feel the butterflies fluttering inside her stomach, and she resisted the urge to run out and throw up.

“What’s your name, please?” she asked politely looking at her computer screen.

“Grace Taylor.” The lady looked over at the wall and followed her pen down a piece of paper with the names and times of the appointments that day. She found Grace’s name and ticked it off.

“Thank you. If you could just fill out these forms,” she placed a handful of papers and a pen through the small gap in the glass window, “would you like some free condoms?”

“No, no, I’m fine, thank you.” Grace picked up the forms and the pen, taking a seat away from everyone else. She filled out the forms quickly and handed them back to the lady, her eyes were filling with salty tears and she blinked them back. The lady smiled at her apologetically, and Grace hung her head in shame. She didn’t want to be here. She retook her seat and stared at her feet, trying not to let the tears slip in front of all these women she didn’t know.

Murderer, murderer, murderer, kept running through her head and she couldn’t stop the thoughts. She wanted to scream out in pain, she wanted to run out of this clinical waiting room where life of the innocent was lost. A single tear slipped down her cheek, and she quickly wiped it away. She wanted to run faster than she’s ever run before, to forget everything and just watch the world blur around her.

The door to Grace’s side opened slowly, and a tall man with black hair stepped through. “Grace Taylor, please?” She stood up, taking one last glance at her stomach and followed the doctor through the white door. “Ready?” The doctor asked quietly.

She nodded.

No regrets, life or death, its high stakes.
‘Cause right or wrong it was only her choice to make.