ABORTION
1374 Words
SELENA'S POV
I groan as my phone vibrates again.
Ugh… can I just have one peaceful morning?
I snap my eyes open and squint at the ceiling, my head still heavy from yesterday, my body feeling like I didn't sleep at all. Damn alarm. I forgot to turn it off. This used to be the time I woke up every day without fail, cooking breakfast, smiling like the perfect wife, acting like my life was exactly how it should be.
My stomach growls loudly. Great. I didn't eat yesterday.
I roll out of bed slowly, rubbing my face with both hands, trying to wake myself up. Breakfast. I need breakfast before I pass out.
I grab the landline and dial room service, my voice still rough from sleep. "Toast, avocado, tea… anything fast," I mutter, then hang up and drag myself into the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face again and again until my skin stings, hoping it will wash away the tight feeling that's been sitting in my chest since last night.
The door chimes. My food. Finally.
I open the door, take the tray, and mutter, "Thanks," before closing it again without even looking up. The smell hits me immediately, and I don't even bother sitting properly before shoving toast into my mouth.
Ahhh… heaven.
I chew fast, almost too fast, like my body is afraid the food will disappear if I slow down. I rub my stomach without thinking. It's still flat. Nothing looks different, but it feels weird, heavy, not painful, just strange. Like something is already there even if I can't see it yet.
No.
I pull my hand away quickly. I can't form an attachment with this baby. I won't let anyone control my life again.
Snap out of it, Selena,I hiss under my breath, shaking my head like I can throw the thought away.
My phone rings. I glance at the screen. The agent… oh, I totally forgot.
I swallow the last bite and answer. "Hello?"
"Miss Selena, I found a place you can check out. Comfortable. Affordable," he says quickly, like he's been waiting for me to pick up.
"Thanks… I'll let you know when I can," I reply, not in the mood for details, and hang up before he starts talking again.
Sigh.
My life is starting over from zero. The house already ate most of my savings, and next is job hunting. I take a deep breath and lean back in the chair, staring at the wall for a second. One thing at a time. Today first.
I glance at the clock. Past eight. My hospital appointment is at ten, and my chest tightens a little at the thought.
I walk to my bag and pull out a loose shirt and a pair of comfy jeans, nothing tight, nothing fancy, just something that doesn't make me feel like I'm trying too hard. I tie my hair into a ponytail, swipe a little gloss on my lips, and look at myself in the mirror.
I look normal. Like my life isn't falling apart. Like I'm not about to get rid of a baby I never planned to have. Good.
Uber ordered. My heart starts beating a little faster than I like while I wait, so I grab my bag and leave the room before I can think too much.
*****************
The hospital is smaller than the one yesterday, not fancy, not rich, but clean and quiet. Exactly what I wanted. No drama.
I pay the driver, step out, and adjust my bag on my shoulder before walking inside. The smell of antiseptic hits me immediately. I look around, scanning for directions, trying to remember what the agent told me.
"You must be Miss Selena Gidotti." A calm voice pulls me out of my thoughts. I turn and see a man in a white coat walking toward me, glasses resting low on his nose, his expression polite but observant.
"Hello, Dr. Morphy," I reply, forcing a small smile.
We exchange a few polite words, nothing important, just enough to make this feel like a normal appointment instead of what it really is. He gestures toward the chair and I sit, trying to calm my breathing. But his eyes don't leave me, pressing and questioning, like he can see straight through my skin and into my head.
"Miss Selena… are you sure about this?" he asks again, voice gentle but serious.
I bite my lip, looking down at my hands for a second before nodding. "I'm certain."
He studies me for another moment, then sighs softly and reaches for the papers. Consent forms. He slides them toward me and my palms are already sweaty. I wipe them on my jeans before taking the pen.
Just sign. Just sign and it's over.
I take a deep breath and write my name. The moment the last letter is done, my chest feels tight, like something inside me just closed a door I can't open again.
"Okay," he says quietly. "We can start."
A nurse appears and guides me to the procedure room. The light is too bright, too white, too cold. I change into the hospital gown and lie down on the bed, staring at the ceiling while my fingers grip the sheet without me noticing. My stomach twists with nerves and fear and something else I don't want to name.
The doctor comes back in, mask on, syringe in hand. I nod. Let's just finish this.
He injects the drip. Cold spreads through my arm slowly, and I close my eyes.
The door slams open.
I freeze.
"Stop!"
The voice cuts through the room like a blade. The nurse jumps forward, trying to block him. "Sir, you can't—" He pushes her aside like she weighs nothing and steps in, slowly, angry, controlled.
My heart starts hammering so hard it hurts. How the hell did he find me? Panic climbs up my chest, choking me.
"I swear to God… if you touch my child, I will bring this hospital down." His voice is calm, too calm, deadly calm.
The doctor frowns, confused, then his phone rings. He answers, and his face changes instantly, eyes widening, color draining. He lowers the phone and almost drops it before dropping to his knees.
"Mr. Blackwood… I swear… I didn't know she's your wife."
I blink. Wife?
"I'm not his wife!" I yell, my voice cracking from shock and anger. I turn back to the doctor, my head spinning slightly from the drip. "Can we just get on with the procedure?" I demand.
Mr. Blackwood steps closer, too close, his face inches from mine. I can feel his breath, and my heart skips like it forgot how to beat.
"You will not get rid of my child," he says quietly, eyes locked on mine. "You wanted my attention. Now you have it. Get up. Let's go."
Disgust coils in my stomach. "I don't f*****g need your permission," I snap. "My body. My decision. Who needs your attention? Go to hell."
Surprise flashes in his eyes for just a second, then rage sharpens them.
"I message you. But you ignored it," he says.
Wait. A text from an unknown number. I didn't read it, I thought it was my parents again.
"That's my child," he snaps. "You will not touch my child."
Anger explodes inside me. "You will not tell me what to do!" I shout.
Before I can react, his hand is at my waist and I gasp. "What are you doing?" I stutter.
"Don't get the wrong idea," he says coldly, then lifts me onto his shoulder like I weigh nothing.
"What.. hey! Drop me! Drop me now!"
I bang my fists against his back and kick my legs, but he doesn't even slow down. It's like hitting a wall. The sedative starts kicking in stronger and dizziness crashes over me, my vision blurring at the edges.
"No… no… put me down…" I mumble, my voice already weak. My heart is still racing but my body feels heavy, too heavy. The world spins. I feel his arm holding me tight as my eyelids drop no matter how hard I try to keep them open.
Everything fades.
And then… nothing.
- Writer
