BL00M

A story based on the article regarding Scott Roedman killing Dr.Tiller.

    Misha walked up to her father’s house, trembling with fear. The feeling she had was almost worse than the pain she would have endured in four months. But finding the strength to tell her father about this, was paralyzing.   Her hand quivered as she reached for the doorknob. She walked into the house and could hear her father whistling in the kitchen.

     “Hey Daddy.” She called out.

    “Hey Princess I didn’t know you were here, How are you two doing?” he asked as he walked up to her and touched her stomach.

  “I’m fine, how are you? Did you take your medicine already?”  she said.

  “Sweetie I’m bipolar, not diabetic, and don’t worry, I'm gonna take it right now. How’s the baby?” he asked.

 “Umm I need to talk to you daddy, you might want to sit down.”  She said as she led him into the wide living room whose window faced the lake, and sat with him on the ivory suede couch.

“Is everything alright with the baby?”

“ Daddy I got into DuPauw University, and I finally got my car, I’m graduating early, and I got two scholarships, and I don’t think I can have the baby on campus because they don’t have a daycare.” She said.

“ Honey that’s amazing! And if you’re asking me to take care of the baby I have no problem, you’re mom and I could work something out, your aunt could help too. Yeah we can help you, your mom could come to town on weekends and take the baby with her.” He proposed.

     She stared into her father’s brown loopy eyes, little wrinkles in the corners of them, his look was almost childish, so full of innocence. Tears weld up in Misha’s eyes and she took a deep breath to say,

     “Daddy, theres no baby anymore…” she whispered. Misha could feel a knot in the pit of her stomach that made her feel like throwing up. She had no problem walking into that clinic yesterday, but she had forgot how difficult it would be to break the news to her father.

    “What are you talking about? There is a baby sweetie, yeah yes there is, you told me there was, ‘cause there is.” He said frantically.

    “No daddy, there isn’t a baby anymore, I'm too young and I'm not ready, so I had the baby taken out. I had an abortion, I'm so sorry daddy but I just couldn’t have a baby right now, everything was going right and a baby would just mess it all up.” She replied.

    Her father buried his face in his hands, and sobbed like a little boy. Misha felt like s**t, she didn’t regret aborting the baby, she just knew she had made the right decision. Watching her father mourn the loss of her unborn baby, was absolutely heart-breaking.

    “Daddy please don’t cry, I wasn’t ready, none of us were, please.” She said with a cracking voice.

   “Get out of this house! Now! You’re not welcome here! You let someone kill my grandchild!! Get out! Get out! Get out! Get out. Get out. Get ou… I, why? Scott be good, Scott don’t hurt anyone.” He yelled in a sing-songy voice.  

    “Your scaring me dad, I'm gonna go now. I’ll come back tomorrow and check on you, I'm sorry daddy, I'm really sorry.” She said as she dashed out the front door, crying.

   Things were spiraling out of control for Scott, he was enraged and he couldn’t control himself.  Plates and pillows started flying all over the house, he closed his eyes and covered his ears, it just didn’t fit in his mind that his daughter let some baby murderer kill his grandkid. He put his wrist to his arm and sunk his teeth into it with all his might in search of releasing his fury. He bit harder and harder. He finally released his hand and collapsed on the oak wood floor. 

     “Misha, why? Why? Why? The baby was happy, it was gonna play with me because it loved me, and I loved it, and it loved me, and I loved it, and I thought you loved it too. Always, always people are mean to me, why did you want to hurt us Misha, me and baby, we loved you…” he cried out, although some of his words were muffled by his sobbing, it didn’t matter, because no one was there to hear him anyway. 

    Scott decided that someone was going to reimburse him for the death of his grandkid. A life for a life, he wanted to take the life of the person responsible. It was Misha’s fault for letting them do it. But he wasn’t going to kill his daughter, he loved Misha. The abortion doctor however, he thought deserved to die for taking the lives of beautiful little angels that never got the chance to begin their lives in this harsh world.

     Scott picked himself up off the floor and barged into his room, furious. He plopped onto the navy blue satin bed sheets that covered his bed. He took out his macbook from under the bed, turned it on, and googled  “ abortion doctors in wichita, kansas” only one result came back. Scott clicked on the link, and on the websites homepage was the picture of Dr.Tiller, the abortion doctor. Seeing that man’s face, smiling, reignited the fire in Scott. He ran down to the basement of his house and rummaged through boxes and cabinets in search of his old 50’’ caliber. He finally found it in a red dusty craftsman toolbox.

    The gun was loaded, he stroked the tiny bullets in his hand and kissed one for good luck. He inserted the bullets back into the gun and tucked it into his back. He was ready, he wasn’t on his medication, and he sure as hell was angry.

      He stumbled up the stairs and into the dining room. He took the first-aid kit out of the kitchen drawers.

     “Just in case he starts bleeding, I wouldn’t want to make a mess.” He said to himself.

      He walked out of the house acting perfectly normal. In his hand he had a map that he had printed with the directions to the clinic. He got into his silver audi and drove off. He watched his house fade away from his sight, and he was starting to rethink his plan. But as he drove up to the street where the park was, he saw a mother and her baby playing in the sandbox, and it instantly reminded why that man deserved to die.

     He finally found the clinic, but he parked two blocks away so that no one could see him take out his gun. He put on a black sports coat and hid the gun in the inside pocket of his coat, right next to his heart. The cold metal vibrated slightly since it was pressed against his pounding heart. Once he was at the clinics door, he took a deep breath, put on a smile and walked in.  At the desk sat a young woman, she looked very gothic and emotionless, but you had to be emotionless to work at this goddamn clinic.

     “Can I help you sir?” She asked.

   “Yes actually, could I please speak to Dr.Tiller? I just have a few concerns regarding my daughter’s scheduled abortion” He replied.

   The woman turned around and picked up the phone, she said something and hung up. Then she turned to Scott and said,

   “Okay sir you can go ahead, he’s in his office, third door on the left.” She announced.

   “Thank you very much.” He said with a grin.

    Scott walked down the icy cold, white hallway. It smelled like alcohol swabs all throughout the hallway.  He let his rage overcome his mind, it was the only way he would be able to accomplish this. He knocked softly on the door that read, “Dr.Tiller” .

He heard a small voice say,

      “Come in”

     Scott entered the room and Dr. Tiller got up to shake his hand.

     “Hi I'm Scott Roedman, pleasure to meet you. I just wanted to express to you some of my concerns. Is there any possibility that my daughter will not be able to have children after the abortion?” he asked.

   Dr.Tiller started to answer Scott’s question, but he wasn’t listening. He had his hand in his coat and was contemplating the gun. He sat on a brown leather seat, while Dr.Tiller stood up to show Scott a chart that fit into his explanation. As Dr.Tiller did this, Scott pulled out his caliber, and without thinking, he pointed the gun at him, closed his eyes, and pulled the trigger.

   Dr.Tiller instantly fell to the floor, he was dead. Blood was oozing out of his forehead, and Scott was tickled pink. He giggled and walked right out of the office. As soon as the commotion began, Scott was already in his vehicle on his way home.

   He knew the cops would be coming soon, and he was ready to go. He only had one last thing to do. He took out his blackberry and called Misha. The phone rang three times before he heard his daughter’s sweet voice,

    “Hi Daddy, feeling better?”

  “Yes, definitely, guess what?” he said.

 “What dad?” Misha asked.

“The baby…” he began.

“What about it?” she asked.

“He’s happy now Misha, he’s happy now. ‘Cause the bad guy, isn’t going to hurt anyone, anymore. I told you we loved you Misha, me and baby. But I loved Baby more, I did this for Baby. And he’s happy now…” Scott said.

 “Daddy what are you talking about” Misha asked.

 “You’ll see sweetie, you’ll see…”