Rachel
was the first person I told and she was absolutely amazing during the whole
thing. She came with to every single appointment I had and she even stayed with
me when I broke the news to mum. She was furious with me and disgusted, she
couldn’t bring herself to look at me and all I remember her saying to me was to
get it taken care of. I couldn’t believe my own mother could be so heartless. Wasn’t
she supposed to comfort me and promise me everything was going to be ok? I knew
that I was nowhere near ready to have a baby, I was an emotional wreck and
falling apart at the seams but I still loved my unborn child. I wanted it and
if I had been healthy, there’s no doubt in my mind that I would have chosen to
continue with my pregnancy.
The
whole thing was traumatic, I wasn’t eating and I was being sick all the time, I
felt so unwell. I started to worry about myself and the dark, desolate place inside
my head. I felt like the walls were closing in on me, threatening to suffocate
the remaining life left in me. I honestly felt like I had no choice, I truly
believed I would die if I had the baby, fear had me in a vice-like grip and
refused to relinquish its hold on me, even for a moment.
Rachel
came with me when I had the procedure, I only had to swallow a pill but I felt
like I was walking towards my own execution. She cradled me as I sobbed, she
stayed with me whilst I was sick and would stay up with me into the early hours
of the morning when I wanted to talk. She really was incredible and that’s why
I despise myself for the inappropriate feelings I have for her fiancé. I would
never, ever do anything to hurt her, she is loved by everyone, including me and
it’s my job to be there for her just like she was for me all those years ago.
I’ve continued to observe and admire all of the accomplishments and success my
sister has achieved, she’s a phenomenal actress and deserves all of the
positivity in her life. I will always be grateful for everything she has done
for me and that’s why I’m so determined to stay far away from Zack.
I
only told Paul about the baby after the termination. I know he had a right to
be told before I made my decision but that would have been really difficult. He
hardly even spoke to me after the one and only time we slept together, he
barely glanced in my direction and actually seemed to be ignoring me whenever
we shared a class together. He was the one who had taken my virginity and it
hurt me so much when he went on to treat me like a complete stranger. I remember
the brutal conversation we first had when I finally told him about the
pregnancy and the abortion I’d just had. It’s a conversation I will never forget
the cruelty of the words he spoke to me that day, they will always be engraved
into my memory and there’s nothing I can do to erase them. I recall every
single moment of our exchange because it turns out it was the last conversation
I would ever have with Paul.
“I’m
so sorry.” I wept, holding my head in my hands.
We
were at his house. I’d spoken to him earlier on during the day when we were
both at college and told him that I really had to talk to him. I could tell he
was curious and eventually agreed to meet up with me later. He told me to stop
by his house on my way home from college and we would talk then. I already knew
his parents worked late and we would have the privacy to discuss things without
being interrupted or overheard. The atmosphere between us had been extremely
awkward until I eventually broke down in tears and confessed everything to him.
“Sorry?
You’re sorry?” He exclaimed incredulously, raking his fingers through his hair
in frustration and anger. “That’s all you’ve got to say to me right now?”
“I
know it’s not enough but I don’t know what else to tell you.” I murmured, angrily
wiping away my tears.
“You
murdered my baby and you can’t think of anything else to say?” He yelled,
pacing back and forth in front of me like an enclosed animal.
“It
wasn’t like that! You don’t know what I went through. I’ve been through hell
whilst you’ve been blissfully unaware! I’ve been torturing myself every second
of every day over this.” I cried indignantly, angered by the intensity of his
fury.
I
couldn’t believe his ignorance and lack of empathy for me. There was no
compassion or understanding whatsoever from him.
“I
didn’t fucking know! How could I feel anything or try to help you when I didn’t
even know you had my baby inside you? I can’t believe you made this decision
without consulting me. Did you not care about me or my opinion? Did you not think
it was wise to discuss it with me before you made such a life-changing choice?”
He roared and grabbed me by the shoulders, forcing me to my feet. He had turned
red in the face, his rage was so immense.
“Paul,
please. You have to understand that I’m not myself right now. I don’t even know
who I am. I was not capable of being a parent. I couldn’t even face the
pregnancy, I was absolutely terrified and had to deal with it all by myself.”
“What
drives me insane is the fact that you did it deliberately. What kind of woman
gets herself pregnant on purpose and then aborts it?” He sneered
contemptuously, looking me up and down in revulsion.
“This
was a mistake, I should never have told you. I can’t do this right now. I have
to go.” I jumped up out of my seat and bolted for the door. I had to get away
from him before he wounded me with any more of his unforgiving words.
“You’re
not going anywhere! You think you can just drop a bombshell like this on me and
expect to walk away?” He slammed the door shut before I even reached it,
keeping me confined inside his house with him.
“I
can’t stay and talk to you when you’re like this. Please let me go.” I begged
him, my helpless tears cascading down my face.
“I
can’t even look at you right now. You make me sick and I wish I didn’t know.
What you’ve done is beyond forgiveness. I hate you and I never want to see you again.
You’re going to have to live with this for the rest of your life and I’m glad
you’ll be carrying the weight of that guilt. You deserve it, you deserve
everything you get.”
“Don’t
you think I know that? I know I’m going to persecute myself for the rest of my
life. I know I’m never going to forget, it’s going to be there every second of
every minute of every day.” I confessed, sobbing uncontrollably. I grabbed a
handful of his shirt in each hand, pleading with him for absolution and
forgiveness.
“Good.
I hope it continues. Now get the fuck out of my house.” He barked, shoving me
backwards.
I
fell over but scrambled to my feet, pushing past him so I could flee his house.
I was inconsolable when I left that day. Rachel wasn’t at home when I got back,
she was away for the weekend with a couple of girlfriends and I was left to
deal with my grief all by myself. My mum must have overheard my sobbing and
poked her head around my bedroom door. I actually hoped she might offer me some
sort of comfort or even a shoulder to cry on. My expectations were completely
normal but incredibly naive. My mum hasn’t said a kind word to me in my life, I
don’t know why I thought she would change her behaviour that day.
“I’m
sick and tired of this, Samantha. How long do you think you can carry on like
this before you start to make yourself look more pathetic than you already
are?”
“What’s
wrong with you? You’re my mum, how can you treat me this way?” I asked, turning
to face her.
I
was on the bed and she was standing by the door, she had no intention of coming
inside. She wasn’t there to soothe me or help in any way.
“I
really don’t think that you should be lecturing me on what it means to be a
parent. You just killed your own baby.” She taunted, sneering at me in malice.
Her
venom hardly surprises me anymore but that day changed everything. I finally
realised her true feelings for me. I finally learnt that my mum really does
hate me.
“You
bitch.” I whispered incredulously, still unable to believe what she’d just said
to me, her own daughter.
“I
might be a bitch but at least I’m not a murderer.” She turned on her heel to
leave the room but stopped right before she made her exit. “I actually shouldn’t
judge you too harshly, I wish I’d aborted you.”
After
that fateful day, I never expected anything other than hate from my mother. I now
accept the fact that she despises me, it’s something that’s never going to
change and I no longer try to convince her that I’m worthy of her love. I
sometimes can’t help but wonder if it all goes back to what I told her when I
was a little girl. I rarely allow myself to think about it and I’m not about to
start now. I closed the door on that particular darkness a long time ago and I
refuse to revisit it for anybody or anything.
I
never spoke to Paul again after my confession. He avoided me whenever he saw me
around college and he’d even change the direction he was heading in if he saw I
was going the same way. Everybody knew that something had gone on between us
but neither of us were willing to open up about it and for that I was grateful.
I
did bump into Paul one day about a year after I told him the truth. I hadn’t
seen him in a long time because he chose to go away for University and he was
hardly ever home. We crossed paths again at the supermarket when he must have
been home for the summer holidays. I remember I had my sunglasses on and I
don’t think he recognised who I was at first, he held the door open for me and I
thanked him as I made my way out of the store. He froze as soon as he heard my
voice and I then knew he’d been oblivious to my identity before that point. He
narrowed his green eyes at me, directing all of his hateful disdain onto me. He
completely ignored me and strode over to his car, slamming his door with so
much force I’m surprised it didn’t fall off its hinges. He sped out of the
parking lot and that was the last time I ever saw him.
It
was obvious that he still blamed me for everything and chose to loathe me for
the agonising decision I had been forced to make. I had no excuses, he was
entitled to feel the way he did and I felt no animosity towards him at all for
his fury. It was the very next day when Rachel had to break the news to me that
Paul was dead. He had gone out drinking the night before and got involved in a
fight, someone stabbed him during the scuffle and he died right before the
paramedics arrived.
I
went into shock when my sister told me what had happened. Paul wasn’t violent
and he wasn’t a fighter, I couldn’t believe he was gone. None of us wanted to
accept the tragedy he was involved in. Paul was a popular guy, the whole town
loved and him and there wasn’t a single person who had a bad word to say about
him. I never did find out what really happened to Paul but I do know that the
guy who killed him was sentenced to a lifetime in prison. There was an inquest after
his death but I chose not to follow the reports. It was too difficult for me
and absolutely heart breaking to hear about it.
I
was the only one who didn’t go to his funeral. A part of me wanted to go but
another part felt like I really didn’t have the right to attend. I instead
chose to stay at home and spent the whole day crying into my pillow. I went to
church a few days after and visited his grave. It was covered with beautiful
bouquets of flowers and I couldn’t stop myself from breaking down in front of
it.
A
lot of Paul’s friends and certainly all the members of his family chose to
blame me for what happened. I’m not sure if they even knew exactly what
happened between us but I’m certain he told them the truth about the abortion.
They blamed me and said I was the one who had to take responsibility for
angering him that day. His family said he only went out and got drunk that
night because he was so enraged by the fact he had an encounter with me earlier
on in the day. One of his best friends said he was so furious with me that all
he had wanted to do was to go out and forget all about it, forget that I was so
close by and erase me from his thoughts.
I
do realise that it wasn’t my fault. I wasn’t the one who killed Paul. He’s the
one who chose to keep hold of his anger, he’s the one who never tried to
contact me never allowed me to give him a real explanation for what happened.
He made the decision to keep on hating me and I suppose that’s why his family
still feel the same way. My mum eventually found out about all the things that
Paul’s family were saying about me. My mum’s side of the family eventually heard
all about it as well. They never did have a high opinion of me but after
hearing what Paul’s relatives had to say about me, they chose to despise me
just like my mum.
I
still think about Paul sometimes and I can’t help but think about my baby every
single day. Five years ago when I was close to what would have been my due date,
I made the decision to go out and buy some baby clothes. I know it might sound
crazy but it’s something that I felt compelled to do. I always imagined that my
baby would have been a boy and so I ended up buying lots of blue items. I don’t
know why I felt it was going to be a boy because I never actually reached the
stage where I could find out the sex. The termination took place really early
on in my pregnancy and I was fortunate enough to not face any difficulties or
complications. However, it still tore my heart to shreds and the whole trauma
of it will be engraved into my memory for the rest of my life.