Invisible Child

17 year old Hayden gets an abortion, and deals with all the unimaginable things that come along with it.

“Invisible Child”

I just got back. Everything hurts and I feel disgusting. An innocent person is gone because of me. I killed my child; a living thing growing inside of me is now dead in a jar. Even though it was only three months into my pregnancy, I was getting attached to the thought that I could raise this little girl and make her happier than I have ever been, but I knew my mom wouldn't let me. She would be disappointed, because having sex before marriage is not right in our religion.  I didn't want to be known as the town s**t.  I just wanted to be known as me, Hayden, so I did something about it. But it was selfish. Just so that I wouldn't have to hear my parents say that they're disappointed in me, I killed someone else, and I will never forgive myself.

My mind is racing about a thousand miles per minute as I watch my boyfriend’s mom pull out of the driveway in her brand new white BMW. I felt hopeless as she faded off down the street. Dylan knew. He knew why his mom was taking me to that clinic. We had talked about it. We aren't even adults yet, how are we supposed to take care of a child together, when we're still children ourselves? It was better off for everyone this way, at least that's what I thought. But I never thought that the mental obstacles I would have to face after the procedure would be this demeaning. Even though abortion wasn't his first choice, he understood why it had to be mine.

I turned to my front door, thinking of how I'm going to face my mom. Hands folded across my chest, palms clenched and sweaty, I thought to myself How am I supposed to act normal when I just went behind her back to kill a living child? How am I supposed to have normal conversations with her thinking that I’m the innocent child she always wanted, when I'm the farthest thing from it?

With a deep sigh I open the door, the paperwork crackling from beneath my shirt. My mom is standing right there. I  jump back a foot and gasp.

“Jesus, you scared me!”

“Sorry, I was just waiting for you to get home,” she said as she smiled her warm, loving smile.  

I ran up the never-ending staircase, and, as I got to my room, I pushed open the door with a grunt and ripped the papers out from my shirt.  I shoved the evidence of my abortion in between my mattress and left it at that. That was the last  time I would see those papers. As I thump down on my uncomfortable mattress, a tear rolls down my face, and then they start coming by the thousands. I have two hours to get myself together, so I can go to work as if nothing is wrong.

I pass out; sleep consumes my body and I awaken to my mother yelling.

“Hayden! You’re going to be late for work, Let’s go!”

“Coming!” I scream as I roll out of bed, brush my hair and stumble down the stairs, out the door, and into my ever-so-ghetto car. As I speed off, I see my mom waving goodbye to me in the rear view. Ugh, she's so annoying, I thought to myself. As I pull into the bumpy parking lot at the restaurant, I try to pull myself together. No one knows. It's okay; just act normal. With a deep sigh, I lunge myself out of the car and into the place I know as hell.

Bussing tables is not the ideal job when you hate everyone around you. Pretending like you actually care what customers say when you ask them, "How are you?" with a fake grin, just to come off as friendly.

Their piercing eyes stare at me as if they know. Their thoughts are probably running wild with disappointment and horror. A seventeen-year-old, pregnant but couldn't take responsibility for her actions, so she killed it. Pathetic.

My stomach feels the way it did during the abortion; unsettled. I grab my purse out of the back room and run to the bathroom. Just as I reach the toilet, I throw up. I didn't even know I had anything left in my stomach to throw up, considering I haven't eaten much. I've lost my appetite completely.

I reach for my purse and pull out the black and white 5x8 ultrasound picture. "I'm sorry!" I scream, sobbing as if the baby could actually hear me. Regret and disgust are what I am made of now. I will never look at myself the same.  I got up, rinsed out my mouth, fixed up my makeup, and tucked the ultrasound back into my purse. I looked in the mirror but didn’t recognize what I saw, I saw a monster, not myself.        

When I got home I put my purse down on the table, went up to my room and passed out. Worst idea ever. I woke up to my mom shaking me crying. I had no idea what was wrong, so it freaked me out. I looked in her quivering hand to see the black and white ultrasound picture from the side pocket in my purse. My jaw dropped and I was speechless.

"Are you pregnant?!" she screamed.

"No, mom!"

"Then what the hell is this?!"

I started sobbing. Through my muffled sobs I tried to say the word.  Abortion, such a simple yet evil word. It had such a bitter taste as it rolled off the tip of my tongue and past my lips. I had never tasted anything so sour. My mom broke down in tears right next to me. I glanced at her only to see the most heartbreaking look in her eyes. The feeling of disappointment was there. It clouded my room like someone smoking their last cigarette in a small, enclosed area. I would never be that perfect angel that she had always wanted me to be.

My mom was speechless. Not knowing what to say, she left the room and I lost it. I tried to go back to sleep, but I felt awful. Out of no where, I heard a startling cry. A cry for help, a cry of fear, a cry of loneliness. A baby's cry. My baby's cry. It was playing over and over again in my head like a broken record. I tried shutting it out with a pillow and headphones but nothing worked. She was haunting me for what I had done. That baby could've been so many things, things I'll never get a chance to find out. It turns out, I wanted this little girl more than I thought.

     The echoing sounds of guilt hollowed out my head; it was the only thing I could think about. I went in my dresser, grabbed my sleeping pills and took some. I needed rest.

      The room got fuzzy and as a yawn escaped my mouth, I got under my covers and prepared for this well overdue nap. As I closed my eyes the baby's cry was fading out in the background, finally. My room went black. I was asleep.

     In my dream, I found myself in the clinic, watching as they killed that living baby inside of me. I was laying on a table, and the doctors were scraping her from inside of me, I regret it. I wanted more than anything to be with her and to hold her, I never even got to name her. As the nurse pulled the baby out of me, she walked over to me and handed me the little blob of blood. "Look at what you did," she says. I screamed and tried to wake up, but I couldn't. The blood was all over me. I was holding my biggest fear, right in my own hands.

I looked down and the blood was gone, there lay a beautiful baby girl, with blue eyes, little brown hairs, and a perfect little button nose. She looked up at me and smiled. As if she forgave me, like it was all okay. Knowing that she was okay, and that she was going to be alright without me I tried waking up, but yet again failed to do so.

      That's when I realized I wasn't dreaming. I was dead. I was finally with my baby girl, Lydia.