She could still remember that day, twenty years ago, too well. The sun was so bright, his rays somehow trying to penetrate her soul and burn her feelings. That hot, sweaty sensation, that sense of faint, that petrifying fear; they all whispered only one thing: not to do it. She could still feel the pressure on her left arm, while being dragged up the hospital’s stairs. It was the other woman’s fault, the one who kept forcing her to go inside the hospital. She didn’t want to give up the life who was growing inside of her. Or did she?
Clara. Her name was Clara and she could hear it louder and louder in her head, like a constant buzzing, with each step she took, with each rhythmic blink. Clara felt dead. She knew death was suppose to be numb and that was exactly how her limbs felt like. She looked at the woman who was now behind her, pushing her gently towards the big waiting room. Who was that woman? Clara wondered if her brain died too, if the woman behind her was truly someone she loved, trusted, cared for.
” No, I can’t be dead. Fear stops existing after death.”, she thought taking the woman’s hand in hers as a sign of surrender to a destiny chosen for her.
The waiting room was decorated with filthy tiles and filled with other women just like her. All waiting for their turn to stop a life from existing. Clara sat down and squeezed the hand wrapped around hers tighter.
“I know you are scared”, said the woman, “but this is for the best. You know that right? Don’t look at them, they are not you. They don’t have your story.”
“They are all murderers”, Clara whispered, ” and I am one too.”
“That’s a stupid thing to say. No one here is a murderer. They all have feelings, regrets, families.”
“They’re smiling, can’t you see that? They don’t care. It’s like taking out a tumor for them. You either take it out or it kills you. Right mom? ”
“Stop talking like that. That’s fear talking not you. There is no right or wrong here; there’s only what’s best for you and your future. Hush now. It’s all going to be fine, you will see.”
Clara looked at her mother talking. She looked at all the other women in the waiting room, smiling and telling stories to each other. She looked at the door in front of her that was suppose to show her a little piece of hell in the next half an hour. She looked at her hands, painfully white, trembling and moving up and down her leg. And finally she looked passed the pain, judgement and fear. She was naked. She was alone.
The door opened and an expressionless face looked straight into her eyes, piercing her soul.
“Clara? We are ready for you now.”