Your Decision

You’ve got a suitcase in hand and you’re on your way to the station. You’ve got a long way to go and the time is limited. 

The sky is covered in dark clouds and rain is pouring down on you furiously. It started raining just as you left but it was too late to go back for an umbrella. The rubbish is dancing with the wind in the narrow streets. You remember reading the weather forecast yesterday, checking it time and time again. It said it was going to be sunny, no rain at any point. You begin to think you might have been looking up the wrong day. The anxiety kicks in and you wonder whether today isn’t the correct date. You quickly check your phone and see 22 June 2014. It is the correct date.

You’re the only one who knows where you’re heading and it makes you think about all the other people you pass. Maybe they are also ‘sinners’. Named by a society which doesn’t know them. 

You think back to last night. You didn’t sleep. The demons clung onto you and kept telling you what a terrible person you are. It’s the morals that have been poured into you since you were young. But where are the people who poured those things into you now? Where are they when you need help? You only have what they left behind.

You put all your worries out on the internet, asked questions, looked for some support but it was useless. All you got was countless fights between those who support you and those who disregard you. Instead of helping you, they only focused on their own opinions and very quickly got rid of ‘you’ and replaced it with ‘women’.

You look back at all the comments and realize that the comments against you were mostly posted by men. Men who have no uterus, no way of birthing a child. Men who simply can’t stand having you, a woman, make your own decision. You start to wonder how they would react if it was their daughter experiencing this. The thought makes you sick.

They don’t know you but they want to judge you. This is exactly the world you were born into. A world where being a woman is like a sin. ‘You were born a woman, I sentence you to a life of always having to fight for your rights. No matter what, society will always try to silence you.’ You are aware of that and know you are going to fight, even if it leads to a lonely life.

You look at the watch - it’s 9:23 am. You sigh with relief, knowing you’ve still got 30 minutes left. You reach the town centre and there’s barely anyone there due to the weather. A mother with a daughter catches your attention. They are running across the street. The girl is holding an umbrella with a frog design on it and is dressed in clothes that are too big for her. Both of them laugh. It seems to you that they’ve been suddenly caught in the rain and the mother is trying to make the best of the situation. You can’t help but stare at them, even though your heart is hurting. It feels like being crushed with jealousy.

You don’t hate your unborn child, you never have. The decision you made was because of love. You know there is nothing you can offer them. You are nothing and you have nothing. An orphaned girl, not even wanted by her own family. Many people on the internet kept asking ‘if you can’t keep them, why won’t you at least give them a life?’ Even if you give birth, the child would be taken away from you and placed in an orphanage, possibly not even the one you’re in. You’ve grown up in an orphanage, you know what horrors you’ve seen and experienced. What life would you give to a child of your own? One without love, but full of pain? You don’t want that, not for someone who is a part of you. You explained this, but no one wanted to listen.

The station is empty when you arrive. You sit down on a bench beside the wall and place the suitcase beside you. The rain keeps dripping from your fringe down your face. You try to dry yourself but all you have is the sleeves of the jacket you’re wearing, and they’re just as wet. You can only hope you’ll dry before getting on the train.

You start to think about your mother. Lately you’ve been thinking a lot more about her. You wonder if maybe she was just like you. Only 16, with an incoming child, but no future and no courage to abort you. You wonder where she is now, and if your dad is still in the picture. Maybe she has a family now. You never looked for her, you were never brave enough to hear the truth and now you regret it because maybe you’d have her to help you.

You look at the tracks that seem to be never-ending. You can see yourself standing in front of them, beckoning you. The thought of suicide brings a feeling of relief but this isn’t what you’re here for. You shake your head and the image disappears.

You check the time again - the train should have been here awhile ago. You’re not surprised nor anxious. You chose the earliest train for a reason. 

The sound of individual raindrops hitting the tracks echo through the station. And you can vaguely hear voices of people walking by and the sound of cars driving by. You lean against the wall and close your eyes. You don’t want to go to sleep, you just need to let your eyes rest.

Voices become clearer as you can hear someone walk into the station. You recognize the voices. You open your eyes and look at them. It’s the girl with the frog umbrella that you saw earlier. She stops and looks at you, curious about who you are. You smile at her and she smiles back.

‘Mummy, why is the girl crying?’ she asks.