Diary

I went to the clinic today. I saw a girl contemplating getting an abortion. The whole “Anti-Abortion” team was outside with picket signs and panthlets. I’m too far along for an abortion, and even if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t have the money.

I was forced, by Dr. Michaels, to come and have the baby checked up on. I don’t have money or insurance, so here goes another bill.

Anyway, I saw this young lady making this terrible decision. Its terrible because no young girl should have to make a decision like this. It’s her life, though, and she can do what she wants. Her name is Reagan, like the actor/president.

She had long black hair, almost like Roxy’s, and big, green eyes. She looked like a lady bug. She said she’s 12 weeks, her boyfriend dumped her, she’s only 15 and her parents are forcing her to do this. I couldn’t help but ask her why not give her baby up for adoption.

She gave me a look as if I had solved all her problems. She jumped up, smiling, “Thank you, man!”

And she left.

I haven’t been called ‘man’ since 9th grade.

I was happy to help that kid, I guess, even though I just suggested something to her.

Then, I started really thinking about it. What if she fell in love with her baby? What if she acts like you did? Those big, doe eyes mesmerized by tiny baby feet, soft bottoms, and little wails of half your blood. What if she got attached?

What if I got attached?

I couldn’t get attached, I didn’t want to. I would fight it. I had to. Raising another kid would be to hard for me. I’m taking the easy way out, just like you did.