MADMAN'S HAVEN

33

Sunday, January 12th

I walked back and forth over my living room floor as I waited for the strong morphine dose to completely paralyze every single cell of my body. My chest moved in heavy motions from my frantic breathing, and all I was longing for was to get this all over with.

I bit my tongue so hard that I could taste the blood in my mouth, but I didn't care as I did everything in my power right now to get rid of the cumbersome anxiety. The knowledge of what was about to happen only within minutes made me nauseous, and since the painful emotions were no longer bearable, I decided to open up a bottle of wine to drain my inside and get even deeper into the haze.

I dragged my nails over the itching bend of my arm as I leaned my head backwards and slowly stepped into the world of obliviousness.

The moment I had been waiting for had now arrived, and I began to walk my way into the already-prepared bathroom.

I sat down on the towel on the floor, took a couple of deep breaths and grabbed the metal hanger in front of me. I started to bend it back to get it into shape, which was more of a challenge than I expected.

After one last look at the sharp tool I just created for my procedure, I grabbed the bottle of clean liquor beside me. I drained the hanger along with my shaking hands to sterilize it from bacteria, and then moved the bottle up to my mouth to take one last shot in hope of easing the upcoming pain.

The tears were now streaming down my face, and I was frustrated about the morphine not doing its job good enough. I caressed my hand over the lower part of my belly, just to comfort myself with one last goodbye. This was a hard decision, especially since it was Brandon's baby that I was carrying inside of me. But still, I knew that this was for the best.

It was an unwanted miracle. The beauty of being impregnated by Brandon made me feeble with pain, but the reality of bringing his child to life just wasn't bearable.

I leaned my back against the cold wall, and pulled up my skirt to expose myself in front of the mirror that was placed before me on the floor. Then I spread my legs, and slowly adjusted my position to get steady enough. The band of my robe was now placed between my teeth, and I closed my eyes one last time to gather every ounce of strength left inside of me.

Slowly, I started to move the sharp tool against my core, and I let a bit of the cold, pointy tip get inside of me without much pain. When I reached the very top, I shivered and closed my eyes out of discomfort and sickness. My whole stomach knotted from the pinch, and I bit the rope so hard in my mouth.

This was actually happening, I was about to do this to myself just within seconds. But I couldn't distract myself with those thoughts right now, I couldn't risk changing my mind from being a coward.

Then, without further hesitation, I forced my arms to make a stabbing motion, and the spike of the tool penetrated my inside all the way up to reach my uterus and scrape every sign of life out of me. The torturing pain spread through my whole body like a strike and I screamed louder than I ever thought my lungs were able to. My whole body twitched and arched on the floor, and the sweat started to drip down my already wet face.

My whole stomach pounded in pain as I felt the metal move inside of me over and over again.

I closed my eyes and cried out loudly with every further motion as I twisted the tool around to make sure that this whole procedure was done properly. I needed to be sure that it was gone, this was not just like a toss of dice, I needed to be one hundred percent sure that it worked out and that I was really rid of the living lump when I was done.

With heavy breaths of panic, I looked in the mirror in front of me again, and I witnessed the blood that was now slowly flowing out of me. The blue towel was no longer bright in colour, it was covered in a big stain of dark thick fluid, and my tile floor was speckled with the same. It all looked like a crime scene.

A string of saliva hung down my spread dry lips, and by now I could only cry out with a raspy sound of deep pain as I stared into the disastrous mess in front of me.

My weakness started to reach me as the trembling became more intense and the fever crawled up on me. I was now freezing cold in sweat, and I knew that I had to finish this before I would turn unconscious from the pain.

Slowly I grabbed my hand around the tool that was still placed between my legs, and I started to pull the murder weapon out of me again.

The metal hanger all covered in my blood dropped from my hands and landed on the floor with a sonorous sound way too happy from what it had just caused.

I grinned in misery at the cheering, humiliating sound as I realized the destruction of life that I was living. It was hilarious, and laughable, but not funny at all.

Once again my expression died from weakness, and I remained on the cold, wet floor to allow my body to recuperate.

Finally this was all over. Now all that was left was a bloody, tragic mess along with my destroyed, bleeding body on the floor of my bathroom. No sign of strength was present, but the relief of finally being rid of this traumatic, painful situation was the thing keeping me alive. There was no turning back now, no regret, and that reality was pleasing to me.

Because I didn't regret anything.