We stood there in the dark, staring at each other in the moonlight. The realization of what we were about to do hit us, but it was too late to turn back. Even if I had known then the repercussions of this night, I would still have gone through with it.
He looked me in the eye for a long while. Neither of us was smiling. He removed his shirt and let it gently float to the floor. His muscular chest glistened with sweat in the moonlight. My heart pounded as the sound of his zipper being lowered echoed through the room. His jeans slid to the floor in a heap, followed by a pair of blue bikini underwear.
He stood before me, naked and waiting. "Is this what you want?" he asked.
"Yes," I rasped. He walked toward me, reached out, and caressed my face languidly. We kissed passionately as he unbuttoned my blouse. I could feel his hands against my breasts, pulling me ever deeper into the fantasy. My blouse tumbled onto the pale blue carpet. I stared at it for a moment, eyes glazed as if in a dream. He wrapped his arms around me and unhooked my bra. A sea of pleasure swept over me as he felt and caressed me.
He finished undressing me and knelt at my feet. "Is this what you want?" he asked again. He didn't give me time to answer. He picked me up and carried me to the bed. As he laid me down and positioned himself over me, I saw the animal in his eyes.
I screamed, "Keith!" over and over again as we made love. The feeling is indescribable. I began to float off into the ocean of ecstasy. . . .
"I'm what?!" I screamed at the doctor. Denial flooded my mind. It couldn't happen to me! It felt too good. I couldn't be pregnant. I am a teenager! I am invincible! I am --
"Pregnant," he repeated softly. "You are pregnant."
Oh, joy.
...page...I had lived in denial of my pregnancy for so long, it shouldn't have been such a shock. I was five months pregnant and had gained four pounds before deciding to have a pregnancy test. Talk about not living in reality!
My parents were not very bright. I began to show at four months, and they didn't suspect a thing. By the time I decided to tell them, I was six months along in the pregnancy.
It appalled me how supportive they were! When I broke the news to them, their first reaction was, "And what's the punchline?" So much for support. Once I had convinced them it wasn't a big hoax, they promised they would still love me and respect whatever decision I made. Then they proceeded to tell me my options.
First was abortion. It was a simple, painless (yeah, right!) procedure that could be done at special clinics or most hospitals. But abortion is wrong. It is the ruthless murder of an innocent life. I never could understand why it is legal to murder children when they need their parents most, yet killing a child that could survive on its own is illegal and looked upon as a terrible crime. Besides, if God thinks it is necessary for a baby to be aborted, He will take care of it in His own way. There is no need to, and in fact it is wrong for us to, interfere in His greatest miracle. So, as far as they were concerned, abortion was out of the question.
Second, there was adoption. This would be the easiest on the family and me. So my parents recommended that I go the adoption route.
Third, I could keep the baby. They didn't see how I would be able to handle this option, though.
I told them I would have to think it over, and think it over I did! For hours on end I would sit on my bed and mull over all my choices, make a decision, throw out my decision, and start over. Finally, I decided I would put the baby up for adoption. I stood up and started toward the door to tell my parents of my decision. Then, the baby kicked. From that moment, I knew I would keep that baby no matter what.
I went out to the den where my dad was watching a football game. I told him, "Dad, I've decided I'm going to keep the baby."
He said, "The hell you are." My parents are so supportive.
Later that night, I called Keith. "Keith, there's something important I have to tell you," I began.
"OK," he replied. "Go ahead."
"I am six months pregnant with our baby."
He was silent for awhile. "Correction, Sara," he said finally. "It's your baby, and your problem! You got pregnant, you deal with the damn kid! It's not my problem. And don't even think about talking to me again. As far as I'm concerned, I don't even know you exist!" With that, he slammed the phone down. I dropped my phone and ran to my room, crying and screaming.
I carried that baby to term and gave birth to a healthy boy, Keith David Krantz. Though it was rough, I finished high school and received my diploma. My parents helped out all they could, but in the end it just wasn't enough. I had no choice but to give up my baby. I saw to it that he got a good home, but still I wept all night long. I saw him drive off, and somehow I knew that was the end. I cried again. Three days later, I got word that the car they took him home in had driven off a bridge and plunged into a river. My baby was gone.
I don't cry at all. I walk to my room in silence. For the first time in a long time, my mind is clear and my decision is made. I will leave no note; it will be easier for them. I leave no will; they wouldn't heed it. In my palm I clutch the steel; the cold, hard metal bites my hand. I step into my shower; better to contain the mess. I slice the end of my finger with the butcher knife and write one word on the wall. This word will be my eternal cry and my revenge as well. I remove all my clothes, for it must look good. I lay down in the tub naked. I slice my neck, severing all but my spinal cord. Then I grab my hair with one hand and gently lay the knife between my breasts with the other. It is finished. A psychopathic suicide has been masterfully transformed into the perfect picture of a rape/murder, and, in my last moments, I have written the name of my murderer on the wall. But I, in my innocence, have written the name of my baby on the wall. The perfect combination of revenge and love. Soon I will join my baby. I yank my head, and my spinal cord snaps. Free at last, free at last. Thank God Almighty, I am free at last. And I have left but one memory of me.
"Keith"