Unwanted

This is a short story I wrote as a presentation paper for Contemporary Issues class, on the issue of abortion, and the sanctity of life.

I haven't gotten a grade back on it yet, but our Teacher, Mr. Hornick, said he really liked it!

So I'm sharing it with you, hope you enjoy.

Unwanted

By Rebecca Canaan

            The train shuddered around a curve, sending an empty coke bottle skittering across the isle.  A girl, slumped in the farthest seat, was the lone occupant of the end car.  Slowly pulling her legs to her chest, she scrunched her body into a ball. Long honey locks fell loose over her face.  The train took another sharp turn and, with a bounce, her head left the worn upholstery and collided with the window.  She yelped. Her eyes snapped open.  Hands fumbled out of the oversized jacket and pushed the tangled hair away.  Lights flickered.  The deserted station slid into view, sluggishly aligning with the car.  She reached for her purse and stood, groaning.  With a hiss, the doors closed behind her. Then the silver snake rattled back into the dark.  The squeak of her high-tops echoed in the cavernous place. 

            Running over to the stairs, she took them two at a time, and the cold misty air kissed her face as she surfaced.  It was lonely here too.  The street seemed drenched with light as the wet asphalt mirrored every street lamp and neon sign.  A single car drove by, causing ripples in the reflection. 

            She was glad for the quiet.  The pain in her head was awful, and she needed time to think.  Her pace slowed as she replayed the conversation earlier that night, and an odd feeling rose in the pit of her stomach once again.

            “Rory, I need to talk to you.”  At the party, Nicole pounced on her and yanked her into the hallway.

            Something was wrong, really wrong. The fear in her eyes was not the kind that even this drama-queen could fake. Without any prompting Nicole blurted it out.

            “I’m pregnant. “

Rory stared at her, the news stung like a slap to the face.

             “Are you serious?”

            Nicole burst into tears.  Well, that answered it. Rory came near and pulled the shaking girl into her arms.

            “What am I gonna do?” Nicole sobbed. “My mom will kill me if she finds out! I can’t have a baby, I just can’t!” Mascara ran down her friend’s cheeks and Rory tried to think. It was kind of hard over the bawling. The minutes went by. Rory’s arms ached. Finally, she pushed Nicole back, and took her hand. 

            “Come on, I gotta get some air.”

            The rooftop was quiet. Below, the city was a mass of tangled Christmas lights in the darkness. Night pressed in from above and the dull starless sky was smothering.  Rory shivered, and pulled Nicole down beside her. The two girls sat with their backs against the AC unit and, for a long time, they didn’t say a word.

            Nicole whimpered and snuggled closer. Rory looked down at her makeup-streaked face and put an arm around her trembling shoulders. Taking a deep breath, Rory dared to break the silence.

            “Okay, now.” She gave Nicole a squeeze and tried to make her look up. “ Do you know who’s it is?” 

            Nicole bit her lower lip, and nodded in reply. “Yeah…” 

            “And….?” Rory coaxed.

            “I’m not telling.” She sniffed, and wiped her nose on her sweater sleeve.  Rory didn’t prod any farther; she already had suspicions.

            “What are you going to do then? Does he know?”

            Nicole shook her head. “I’m not gonna tell him, cause I’m not gonna have it.”

            “So, you’re going to kill it?” The attitude in Rory’s voice was a surprise, even to herself.

            “What else do you expect me to do Rory!? I can’t be pregnant! If I don’t get an abortion, this will ruin everything. What do you want me to do, drop out of school and raise this thing? I never wanted a baby, I didn’t mean for this to happen. I just want to get rid of this problem and move on with my life!”

             Rory retreated, eager to avoid a fight with her friend, especially at a time like this. “I’m sorry, Nicole, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that- I didn’t say you had to keep it.  It’s just that, well, you said yourself- it’s a baby- right?”

            “It’s not a baby now,” Nicole retorted.  “It can’t be.  I’m only two months along. It’s just a blob of tissue or something.  And it’s my body; I can do what I want with it. I don’t want something living inside me and growing, like…like, some kind of a parasite!”

            Her friend’s argument echoed in her mind while Rory turned down another corner. In frustration she kicked at a stray beer bottle.  It went skittering into the ally, and then there was a tremendous crash. A pile of haphazardly stacked boxes toppled over, spilling into the streetlight.

            She would’ve kept walking, would’ve minded her own business and headed on home- if it wasn’t for what followed:

            A cry.

            Frozen, Rory listened. She could hear the drip, drip, drip, of a drainpipe, some traffic in the distance, and the faint rock n roll mixed with voices from the bar on the next block, but that was all.  Must have been a cat or something.  

            “Poor thing,” She murmured. “ And on a night like this…” On a sudden impulse, she glanced around at the desolate street and slipped into the shadow of the ally.

            It took a moment for her eyes to adjust. A dumpster slowly took form and graffiti covered walls began to appear from the dark. Her eyes scanned the ally. Something darted behind a pile of trash bags.  She took a step forward, and her foot bumped one of the boxes. It was heavy, there was something inside… she looked down.

            There, lying in the cardboard box was a pale little body- wrapped loosely in last week’s newspaper. Rory dropped to her knees in an inch of cold water. Swallowing back the bile that rose in her throat, she saw that both body and newspaper were streaked with blood. It must be only a few hours old. She reached out, hands trembling, and lifted the baby from the box. The paper fell away, leaving the tiny naked girl exposed.

            Get her warm. That was the only clear thought in her mind, and she obeyed immediately.

            Laying the baby on her lap for just a moment, she unzipped her jacket and then unbuttoned her shirt. Ever so gently, she took the cold little body and held it against her chest. Rory wrapped her shirt over the baby and pulled the zipper up partway. It all seemed to take place in a moment. She wrapped her arms around the baby and stood, clasping a little human to her heart.  Everything rushed in, and her legs almost folded beneath her. With one hand she grabbed the dumpster, and she squeezed her eyes shut.

            “Oh God,” Rory cried. “I don’t usually do this, praying is more for people like Grandma, but she always says You’ll listen when we pray. So, please listen now. Help me God. I don’t know what to do. I don’t even know if this baby is living. Please, help me!”

            Her prayer trailed off into tears. She stumbled out into the street, overwhelmed. How could they? How could someone just leave a baby like that? Just leave it there to die!? The baby felt so still in her arms, was it even alive? 

            She walked to the corner, and underneath the street lamp she slowly pulled the zipper down, the newborn’s head lay motionless. She rubbed a finger over the cold little chest, trying to find a heartbeat. There was something, barely, but it was more then a hope. Snuggling her close, Rory zipped up the jacket again, pulled out her cell phone, and dialed 911.

            Rory leaned up against the wall; she could hear the ambulance siren nearing. Cuddling the baby girl under her clothes, she pictured the box, the bloody newspaper, and her perfect little face.

            She was beautiful; a baby, no different from the ones in hospitals wrapped in warm blankets, loving arms, and given those little hats. She was a person, so what if she was only a few hours old? How could someone just kill her?  Simply because she was unwanted, because she was an inconvenience, or an accident, was that a good enough excuse?  

            Tipping her chin down, Rory stroked two fingers over her soft baby hair. Was she just a blob of tissue? Was this precious girl a parasite?  How could only a few months make murder simply an abortion? What kind of a world is it that kills it’s own children?

            Her thoughts were interrupted as something moved against her skin. That light touch shot through her like electricity. Holding her breath, Rory looked down and watched the little girl turn her head, scrunch up her face, take a gasp of air, and scream.

“For You formed my inward parts,

You covered me in my mother’s womb.

I will praise You, for I am fearfully and

“For You formed my inward parts,

You covered me in my mother’s womb.

I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made;

Marvelous are Your works,

and that my soul knows very well.

My frame was not hidden from You, when I was made in secret, and skillfully wrought in the lowest parts of the earth.

Your eyes saw my substance, being yet unformed.

And in Your book they all were written,

the days fashioned for me,

When as yet there were none of then.”

Psalm 139:13-16