Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: Mothers (05/02/05)
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TITLE: Don't Kill My Baby | Previous Challenge Entry
By Zack Reynolds
05/06/05 -
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“Let’s go upstairs.”
“No,” Laura said. “I’m staying down here.”
“Come on, girl,” Wes said. “It’s more fun than you think.”
Laura refused again. Suddenly, Wes grabbed her with his big arms and crushed her to him. The rest of the night turned into a blur.
All Laura could remember was his heavy breathing, the periodic swigs of beer, and the tears that ran down her face.
And she remembered the next morning, waking up on the floor, pulling her tattered clothes together, and stumbling home, barely able to see through the hot blinding tears. And she remembered the pain, the humiliation.
And then, a few months later, when she found out she was pregnant, she almost passed out. But she sat down on a chair and slowly recovered.
With tears running down her face, she told her parents.
“We’ll get a lawyer,” her dad said, “And we’re going to prosecute that guy to Kingdom Come.”
“Laura, I’ll make an appointment with the abortion clinic,” her mom said.
Laura nodded.
But later, at the abortion clinic, as they waited in the waiting room, Laura began thinking about the baby. Her baby. It seemed wrong, somehow, to be separating that life form inside her body from any future potential.
Laura crossed her legs and wondered if it was a boy or a girl. I guess it doesn’t really matter, she mused. He’s not going to be born anyway. But why? Why did babies have to die? What did they do? She put a hand on her stomach, and she could feel the lump inside that was her baby. Why did the baby have to die for the sin of his father?
Just then, the nurse called her name. Laura jumped.
“What’s the matter, Laura?” her mother asked.
Laura opened her mouth, and was about to say something, but she stopped. “Oh, nothing,” she said.
“Go on, then,” he mother said, “get it over with.”
Laura slowly stood up. Get it over with? Get what over with? The hassle of a baby? The humiliation of having an illegitimate child? The degradation of being raped? Terminating the baby’s life wouldn’t erase the rape. What purpose did aborting the baby have, then?
“Are you daydreaming, Laura?” Her mother’s voice was harsh, critical. “Hurry up.”
Laura came to a decision. “I’m not going in there. I’m not going to let them kill my baby.”
“Laura!”
“Mom, we can’t kill the baby.”
“Laura, you’re not married! You can’t have a baby.”
Suddenly, everything fell into place. Babies were to be sacrificed if they weren’t wanted. Babies weren’t worth anything.
“No,” Laura said, picking up her purse. “Let’s go home. I’m going to keep this baby.”
The nurse came forward. “You don’t want that baby, Miss Powell. You don’t know how much trouble babies are.”
Laura’s lip jutted out. “No.” Then she turned and went out the door.
When her mother came out, Laura was in the passenger seat, her head cradled in her hands.
“Laura?”
“I’m not going to abort the baby, and that’s final.”
Months later, when Laura, the proud mother in person, was holding Caleb M. Powell in her arms, she knew she’d never regret her decision not to abort the baby. Her baby.
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