| Prologue At the click of the door lock, she slunk down to the ground, staring blankly at the package in her hands. Slowly, she opened the box flap, cautiously as though she was afraid something might jump out at her. Pulling out a white wad of paper, her fingers slipped between the folds, flipping and unwrapping, finally placing a large sheet of instructions down in front of her. Fumbling about with the pregnancy test laying on the floor, she read the words on the paper carefully, reading and rereading, afraid to make a mistake. “Hold the test stick by the thumb grip…” she read aloud, mumbling to herself, “ok this is it.” There was a pause. “Now just wait…” she began reading, and stared at the round window of the test stick. A bead of sweat slipped from beneath her beautiful brown hair, as her eyes grew larger, silence deafening the room. All that was heard was the ticking of the seconds, as seconds felt like days. Suddenly, she gasped, her mouth frozen in an “o.” Dropping the test stick, her hands covered her mouth, and her body fell against the wall. The color had shown positive. She was pregnant. Chapter One “Mornin’ mom!” greeted Hazel, as she planted a kiss on her mother’s cheek. “What’s for breakfast?” “Oh…just your favorite…” her mom grinned, “bacon and eggs!” At the mention of such greasy foods Hazel ran to the bathroom and began to throw up unexpectedly. Stunned, she rinsed her mouth, and walked back into the kitchen. Her mother, bewildered, stared at her with a questioning look. Hazel tried to brush the questions in her mind off, and smiled at her mom as though nothing was wrong. She grabbed her backpack and books, gulped down a cup of water and rung her fingers through the ring fastener to her car key, yelling “bye” as she shut the door. As she got to her car, she was still in shock, surprised about her reaction. “It’s probably just food poisoning,” she tried to convince herself, yet she remained irked all the way to school. The day had gone rather well, schoolwork managed to get her mind off the questions in her mind. At the end of the day, her friends gathered around her. They had decided to go to the burger place, yet the mention of burgers and fries made Hazel nauseous. Her eyebrows moved towards each other as her forehead creased, her friends staring wide-eyed at her. “Hazel, what’s wrong?” asked Heather. “Yeah…do you not want burgers? We can go for Chinese instead,” said T.J. “NO!” Hazel snapped, amazing her friends. Standing up, she shook her head and mumbled that she wasn’t feeling well, telling them to go on without her. She then picked up her books and walked out of the classroom. On the way out, she passed by the counselor’s office. Strange enough, her feet stopped moving, as she knocked on the hardwood door, replied with a sweet “come in.” She turned the doorknob slowly, peeking her head through the tiny opening she had cracked open. Greeted with a smiling woman, she took her first step into the office. Feeling braver in a cozy environment, the soft pink walls welcomed her to take a seat on the cushioned chair. Opening her mouth, she cleared her throat and stared calmly at the counselor. The big brown eyes invited Hazel to speak, but she held her tongue, waiting for the counselor to break the silence. “How may I help you dear?” the counselor finally asked. “Umm…I don’t know if I have anything to worry about, but since this morning, the very mention of food nauseates me,” she answered. “Any particular food? Greasy foods maybe?” as another question flew out the counselor’s mouth. “I think it’s just greasy foods, because the mention of grease is making me want to wretch. Is it a eating disorder? Or am I sick? Should I go talk to the nurse instead?” her eyes growing wider by the second, as fear raced through her head. “Okay these next few questions are going to be a little personal, and if you feel uncomfortable answering them just let me know. However, it is imperative that you answer them honestly because that is the only way I can ascertain your problem. Is that okay with you?” as her chair creaked with the movement of her body, forward towards the table. Hazel nodded in agreement, as she awaited grimly for the rush of questions. “How long has it been since your menstrual cycle?” the counselor asked with earnest. “Oh…it was supposed to come two weeks ago,” Hazel answered after a pause, as she tweaked with curiosity while the counselor silently jotted a few notes on her notepad. “Have you noticed any mood swings? Perhaps extremities of your premenstrual behavior?” another question shot out. “No,” she replied, then quickly changed her answer to “yes” as she remembered her involuntary reaction a few moments ago. An impatient sigh escaped from her lips as the counselor jotted down more words. “Why are you asking me all these questions? Isn’t it just some form of stomach upset?” she asked curiously, with a hint of fear in her voice. “I can’t tell you yet. Just one more question okay? Have u had premarital relations?” the counselor asked gently. “y..y..ye..yeah…” her voice quivered as her head dropped while the stuttered words spilled. At this, the counselor sat back in her chair, locked her hands together and looked gravely at Hazel. She opened her mouth a few times, but found that she could not find her voice. Finally, she began to speak, “Sweetie, it is always hard for me to tell people this, but maybe you should go to a drug store and pick up a pregnancy test kit, just in case…well I have a notion that you are pregnant.” “but…but….that…that can’t be true…” her voice cracked, and she stiffly picked up her stuff and mumbled a soft “thank you” creaked the door open and slammed it shut behind her. Her paces quickened, and random undecipherable thoughts flew about in her mind. Her breath, short and intermittent and she reached into her bag looking for her keys. She shot out of the school doors, plunged herself into the soft chairs of her jeep, and started the car. Driving with the air fluttering between her hair, her grip on the steering wheel relaxed, and she made up her mind to drive down to the beach. Once there, she walked slowly to the beach, and sat on her favorite stone. Hugging her knees tight to her body, she began to sob beneath the cool salty spray of the sea. The horrifying scene played over and over in her head, as she remembered the rustling of the grass, her pitiful screams that were heard but unattended to, the tears streaming out of her eyes, as she lay there unable to stop what was being done to her. She lay there, helpless, under the evil of the darkness, thinking, “why me?”. The rough hands had inched across every part of her body, and she cursed him for the every second he had been torturing her. After what seemed like hours, he finally stopped, bashed her head with his bare fists, and drove off. She lay there shivering, trying to understand what had happened. She had been raped. Her trembling body was aching, and she had no idea what to do. Her first thought, suicide. She shook that thought out of her head, and decided not to mention a word of this incident to anyone, and live life shutting out the memory of this. Her performance was rather incredible, as no one suspected a thing. She called home, and told her mother not to worry, that she would be sleeping at a friend’s house. Then she drove to the nearest hotel, showered, and lay her head to rest. Yet since that night, she was unable to sleep. The fear was fresh, and the most abusing moment in her life was all that stayed in her mind. The menacing laugh of the rapist burned in her ears, but this brave girl was able to keep all this within her, and put a front for everyone to believe life was normal. Her grades hadn’t slipped, and she was active as ever in school activities. No one knew. For three weeks, she had been living this haunting memory, wishing that she could shut it out. But the ghost had gotten the better of her. She wiped away her tears, and silently drove into the windy roads. As the busy streets caved in around her, she parked her jeep outside of Rite Aid, rapidly walked to the aisle she had to go to, picked up what she wanted, paid and left. At the click of the door lock, she slunk down to the ground, staring blankly at the package in her hands. Slowly, she opened the box flap, cautiously as though she was afraid something might jump out at her. Pulling out a white wad of paper, her fingers slipped between the folds, flipping and unwrapping, finally placing a large sheet of instructions down in front of her. Fumbling about with the pregnancy test laying on the floor, she read the words on the paper carefully, reading and rereading, afraid to make a mistake. “Hold the test stick by the thumb grip…” she read aloud, mumbling to herself, “ok this is it.” There was a pause. “Now just wait…” she began reading, and stared at the round window of the test stick. A bead of sweat slipped from beneath her beautiful brown hair, as her eyes grew larger, silence deafening the room. All that was heard was the ticking of the seconds, as seconds felt like days. Suddenly, she gasped, her mouth frozen in an “o.” Dropping the test stick, her hands covered her mouth, and her body fell against the wall. The color had shown positive. She was pregnant. Chapter Two *flashback* At the corner of her fourteenth birthday, Hazel found herself caught in the frenzy of abortion. She had just done a school project presenting the impoverished life. Her exploration of those living with barely anything to get by life, the only worry on their minds was how would they scrap for food that day, the only goal was to meet the physiological needs. She saw a beautiful family of one wide-eyed little girl, smiling, and her two brothers, their mother sitting by them, singing comfortingly to them, yet the fear in her eyes was real. That fear was built by love, the love of a mother who blamed herself for bringing these innocent angels into the world and the sadness instilled in that fear, was that which she failed, to give them a home and sufficed food. These children, innocent as they were, knew that each day was a stretch of their life span. Hazel asked the little girl one question, how could she live in such conditions and still smile? The voice of a lark answered, “As long as I have my family, the love of my family, and they have mine, this is the true meaning of bliss. And it is that bliss that keeps my hunger from winning, and keeps my mind from giving in to the hardships life feeds me. In fact, I am rather lucky to be able to experience this, for it is through hardships that allows us to truly cherish and appreciate the daily adequate of society, that which we are deprived of.” Hazel was rather surprised at the little girl’s ability to speak, but soon found that she worked hard at learning how to read, studying the dictionary, hoping one day to get a job and support the family, giving her little brothers food to eat, and her mother some sleep. This incredibly touching insight opened Hazel’s mind, and her eyes teared up at the poignancy. She blinked the tears away, hugged the little girl, and slipped a hundred-dollar bill into her hand. She then promised to come visit every week, and turned around walking into the dusty alley. As these thoughts raced through her head, one word came to mind. Abortion. It had been the hot subject in her social studies class, the debate on whether or not it was right. Sure it wasn’t legal in Washington, but you could still find a doctor who would do it for just a little sum. Some would even do it for free, if you had the right connections. Why then, would mothers choose birth over abortion when they know very well that they wouldn’t be able to provide for their kids? “It’s the love,” she told herself, “the love for that newborn in her stomach. It’s another life, you can’t rob the world of god’s gift.” And she began from this day forth, a journey trekking in the territory of anti-abortion. She participated strongly in the stances against abortion, making her opinion heard, knowing that one more vote for no abortion was just as important as twenty. Her life revolved around this issue, as the heat began to build in 1991, when Washington was deciding between “pro-choice” and “pro-life”. Letters after letters she began composing, sending at least one each week to the state governor, hoping he would be persuaded to take up her ideas. To influence the members of society, Hazel set up a group that handed out pamphlets about abortion, the pros and cons, educating the public about the downside of abortion. She would speak out in school assemblies, and even sent letters to homes of people wanting so hard for the society to understand the terrible point of abortion. Yet her efforts were in vain. Come November of 1991, Washington passed Initiative 69, the allowing of abortion. At the announcement of the passing of this act, Hazel’s heart fell, and she lost faith in the world. That very moment, she began to see the world in a different light, one with heartless humans, one with a self-absorbed race, and she wept. She wept for the human race, knowing that humans would be what brings about their own destruction. She cried for the fact that humans have lost all that was life’s treasure: the heart. And in her mind, slowly inscribed, “today is the day, where humans have declared that murder is moral, and that there is nothing wrong with taking away even just one life’s right to see the broad daylight of this beautiful world. This is the day where the world has discarded its beauty, and could care less about their loss, for it seems, there is nothing the world has to do with any individual.” Chapter Three She felt the garage door rumble beneath her body, and stifled her sobs, quickly washing her face and threw all the parts of the pregnancy test kit into the trash can. She then crept out of the bathroom and went in her room. Her mom had come home, and cheerfully yelled “hi” as she opened the front door. Greeted with only silence, she sensed something amiss. Knocking on her daughter’s door, she heard a muffled “go away”. She opened Hazel’s door, and saw a poor red eyed girl sitting limply on the ground in the dark, shivering with the ray of light peeking from the crack of the door. Immediately running over, her mom wrapped her arms around her, asking with concern what was wrong. Finally, Hazel’s mouth opened, and as though in a trance, she whispered, “I’m pregnant.” Her mom fell back in shock, and clasped her hands on her face, sputtering unintelligible words out. Grasping a hold of herself, she finally managed to ask “what happened?” Hazel stared blankly at her mom, as fear clouded over her eyes. Frozen, Hazel sat stiffly, tears streaming down her cheeks, as monotonously spilled words from her mouth, as the truth came out. She told her mom about the night of the horrible deed, her trip to the counselor’s office, and the pregnancy test. “Sweetheart why didn’t you tell me about this earlier? We should have gone to the police! We need to get that bastard in jail…how could he rob my daughter like this? How could he have…you’re so innocent…how can anyone think of doing such a horrifying thing to you? And you just kept it all to yourself! I never suspected anything was wrong! Honey how could you not have told me about it? Come here my child,” sputtered her mother, as she began to cry too, leaning over and wrapping her child in her embrace. Her tears stung her cheeks, as they held the pain of her poor child’s suffering. All she wanted at this point was revenge, and if she had to find the man who did this to her daughter herself she would. “Mom, I didn’t tell you because I was so ashamed. I felt so dirty when I came home, and so afraid. I didn’t want to talk about it because I didn’t want to remember it. I wanted to pretend it never happened. It has haunted me since that very night, but I didn’t want to blow it up. I forced myself to believe it was only a nightmare, and that it never happened. But it came back and slapped me right upside the head. Now I am pregnant and I have no idea what to do,” she screamed, as her emotions that had simmered at the surface finally erupted. “Please let’s not take it up with the police, I really don’t want to make this something big. Please.” Hazel pleaded her mom with teary eyes, and her mother caressed her head and said, “ok dear, if that is what you want.” “Baby girl how are we going to raise another child? Your dad’s death has already used up all our funds, we are barely getting through with just my salary.” “Mom, I have a job…” “Yeah I know that, but do you think it is enough? You are only working part time, and the money that you make is NOT enough to raise a child. An infant is extremely expensive; we’re talking diapers every week, which costs shoot out the roof. And milk, the formula? How about a place for the baby to sleep in? All these expenses are way over our heads.” “Then I’ll drop out of school and get a real job.” “No one will hire a high school dropout. Not one with a paying job anyway. Besides, you are doing so well in school, and you are on your way to one of those Ivy League colleges, this will ruin your whole future. You cannot give all your hard work up.” “Then what do you want me to do?” “This is hard to say, but abortion is the only other option besides giving birth,” “NO!” “But honey, think about your future…” “NO! it is against my beliefs. How could you even consider abortion an option? Just because I have a bright future that I have to kill a baby? That is too selfish.” “Yes but it is also selfish to bring a baby into the world to suffer. Think about it. You don’t have the money to feed him or her, it won’t be given the sufficient care it needs.” “But life feeds on love, not on food…” “Yes but without the food the baby will not live to experience love.” “Then what about the option of adoption?” “Trust me dear, once you have given birth to a child, you will NOT be able to give him or her away.” “I can’t…it is against my beliefs…” “Sweetie, as a mother, your role is to do what is best for the child, not for you. If you could provide well enough for your child, we would not have this problem. Once your feet are steady, you can have as many babies as you want, so they can at least be fed…you just should not bring life into this world and not give them a comfortable life. In the end the decision is up to you, but you will regret seeing your child suffer as you try to make ends meet all your life.” Hazel began sobbing as her shoulders shook incredibly, in disbelief that she was at a point to actually consider abortion. She heard her mom say something like “we are going to see the doctor right now,” and slowly nodded her head, agreeing to a visit to the doctor. In a zombie-like fashion, she stepped out of the house, and remained silent in the car, numb. Tears were falling, as she felt her heart break. It was almost hard for her to breathe, she felt as if someone were twisting her heart, stomping on it over and over. She felt her heart go weak, and yet at this moment life was yet feeding it more torture. She bit her lip so hard it began to bleed, but she was numb, and felt nothing. They reached the doctor’s office, filled out some forms, and went in to see her. “So dear, what seems to be the problem?” asked the doctor. “I want an abortion.” Chapter four In a few weeks, the whole prep procedure was complete, and now it was time for the real abortion process. Hazel was a pale sickly figure, lifeless, spiritless, and ghostly. She was thin as a stick, never talked, rarely mumbled, and almost never slept. She seemed to have lost all meaning in life, and was merely a robot living in a human body. The poor girl hid herself in her dark room, and locked the door, eating nothing, and hid under her bedcovers all day until she had to go to the doctor’s. The day had arrived. There was not much life left in the girl. Her eyes had no longer sparkled, her skin clung to her bones; she looked worn out by life. Her eyes got wider by the second as her feet treaded closer and closer to the hospital. Her legs screeched to a halt at the entrance, as she looked at her mom. She began to cry, yet seemed unaware of the water droplets falling from her eyes. Her mom checked her in, and they were put in a room, where in a matter of minutes a doctor walked in. She greeted a friendly hello, and asked a series of regular questions. Then she gravely said at the end, “are you ready?” Hazel made a feeble attempt to protest, but was carted away in a bed wheeled toward the surgery room. She was knocked out with drugs, and woke up hours later, with tears in her eyes. She felt as though her very soul had been taken away, and her heart wrenched with pain. Her mother walked in, but her mind was a haze, numb from life, and Hazel could comprehend nothing. She saw her mother’s mouth moving, and could only nod. She understood nothing, and she felt nothing. Her chest felt heavy, and she had difficulty breathing. Emotionally, she was vulnerable. She tasted salty tears, and realized that she was crying. Unable to believe she had gone through with abortion, she pulled the sheets over her head and bundled up tight. The only thought playing in her mind was “I am a murderer.” “I have sunk to the most selfish of all human beings. I have murdered a life which I created, I have robbed the world of a gift, and I have killed a child of god. My child would have beautiful. I have killed someone. I have killed someone.” Hazel smiled at her mom, gathered all the strength left in her, smiled weakly at her mom, and mumbled “I need some air.” With that she hugged her mom, and left her mother standing there while she closed the door. “Goodbye,” she whispered, and walked through the doors of the hospital. She kept her paces pounding at the ground, walking towards her desired destination. With tears in her eyes, she whispered into the sky, “Thank you god for the life you have given me. For the wonderful mother that you have so kindly blessed me with, and for the child I will now be with. Thank you for all the wonderful moments in my life, for all the hardships in my life, thank you for giving me the chance to have a breath of air. The taste of life is sweet, but life with guilt is bitter. The guilt of a murderer lays on my shoulder, and that guilt is too heavy for me. Give my breath to someone more deserving, as I depart from this world with nothing but love. Goodbye my love, goodbye world.” And with that, she fell into the water peacefully, feeling the tight clutch on her heart release. |
