The Woman In Black

Winter, like a heartbroken woman, cried out with the howling of bitter winds against the dark night. Snowflakes were her icy tears. No one would ever hear them unless they stopped to listen. Which I did. I related much to winter. The only sun in her life was lost and left her empty, turning her paradise to waste and her color to grey. It seemed like forever that the snow and the cold dragged on. And the memories were the reason why. Much of the time I could imagine him away; occupy my mind with my paintbrushes and easel while I painted the sky in shades of pink and purple, orange and yellow. Tonight, his memory plagued me. Forget him, I’d tell myself. Forget him! He was an accident anyway... You did this to yourself.

Gazing into the fireplace I looked past the framed ultrasound sitting nearby it. He barely looked human yet, I thought to myself. Many times I considered throwing it into the crackling flames. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. It was all that was left of him... and I didn’t want to kill that too. I was sure I could never forgive myself. Tonight I could not drown out the voices of shame and condemnation in my head.

Finally, I decided to go out. I needed milk and bread anyway so I convinced myself to go. The wind outside had picked up and the snowflakes hit my skin like bits of glass. Their fiery sting would not relent but at last I was sheltered from them in my old red Dodge. I suddenly felt like I wasn’t alone. With a flick of the roof light, it was clear I was indeed alone in the car. Was there someone outside watching me? Surely no one was out in this blizzard.

A ten minute drive felt like an hour through the wind and the blinding flurries. My window was beginning to ice over but I pressed on. I wasn’t sure if it mattered to me to live. The tires beneath me slid but I didn’t swerve. Safe. Still safe. I was on a mission. No one else was in the road. It was foolish to be here in this storm. But still it felt eerie to be alone. And yet, I felt that there was someone following me.

For a moment the storm eased up and I could pick up speed. I relaxed slightly until without a hint of warning, I approached a figure visible through the blizzard. My car nearly hit the woman as I whipped by, only inches from her. My heart was jumping in my chest but I continued driving. The woman paid no mind and walked on unhindered. In my rear view mirror, for only a moment, I could see her. She was wrapped in ragged black clothes and cradling something in her arms. She turned her head to watch me drive off , then turned to follow me. At first I had thought to stop and take her in, but something told me there was reason to be afraid. And I was surely terrified.

Finally, I arrived at the grocery store. I walked through the door to see one cashier lounging in his checkout lane. He was tall and skinny with buzzed orange hair, and tapped vehemently at his phone screen. The young man didn’t seem to notice me.

Unconcerned with him and a bit shaken from the occurrences of my arduous trip, I began to look for something to pass some time. Beginning with a long browse of a vast array of shampoos and body washes, and sniffing their fragrances until I felt dizzy, I found myself adequately distracted from the cares of painful memories. The mournful winds of winter could barely be heard here so I ignored her while I could. But then I noticed how very empty it appeared to be in the store. Not a sound could be heard. I took comfort that the cashier was just over at the counter and kept shopping.

My next focus was the chip aisle. Snacks had become my comfort in many cases since the abortion, and alcohol was a close second. I looked through the selection of salty treats and tossed into the cart anything that sounded appealing. I began to feel compelled to stop by the baby section and pick up some diapers and baby food. I passed it by. But within the aisle was a woman. Dressed in black. Still Clutching that something. She appeared to be choosing a baby blanket. I didn’t look and proceeded to the alcohol. I thought surely I’d need a tall glass of Brut tonight. But as I approached that aisle. I could fee her presence. I stopped. Turning on my heel to hurry to the checkout I could see that the cashier was gone. I went anyway and looked behind the counter. He was gone. I felt the woman approach as fear and remorse felt like a tight rope on my soul. I ran with the cart to the back room calling for someone, anyone to come help me.

Finally, I left the cart alone in the store and ran outside, fumbling for my keys. On the snowy pavement in front of me was the infant I could never face. A happy little boy laughing and wiggling his arms and legs as he smiled at me. I knew he was mine. Suddenly I realized that, covering his knees was the blanket the woman in black had chosen. My heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my head. I dropped my purse and keys into the snow beside me and looked up. Sure as I had imagined, there she stood. A woeful face with tear-stained cheeks, the woman in black was me. It felt as though my heart stopped and I looked into her eyes and asked, “Why?”

The woman glared hatefully at me.

“Who are you?!” I screamed, pleading.

“I am guilt! I am the guilt you wrapped your heart in the day you laid on that table and sucked the life out of your womb. I am the woman you became when you murdered your unborn child! And I am the woman you cannot forgive for the things you cannot forget.”

I dropped to my knees, cradled my child and wept. Longing for things to have been different.

“I didn’t know what else to do! I swear I thought what I did was right! But once it was done I couldn’t forget. I knew I was wrong. I knew it! And now I cannot forgive myself.”

The woman looked down at me with compassion now but said nothing. When I wondered why she did not reply I looked to find that I cradled just an empty blanket in my arms. The boy was gone. Vanished from my loving arms and my heart rent again in two.

“Then make the right choice tomorrow,” she said with a gentle tone.

Confused, I looked on as she backed away, leaving me with the empty blanket. Soft snowflakes gracefully tumbled around me now, starkly different from the biting cold ones of earlier.

“Ma’am?” the cashier calls, waking me from my thoughts.

“Ma’am, are you alright? Do you need help?”

I stood but didn’t answer right away.

“I’m fine.... thank you.”

“Do you still need me to help you check out?”

I paused. Then shook my head. And carried the blanket away to my car, still cradling it tenderly.

The ride home was less distressing. But now my mind was awhirl. The tiny blanket sat empty on the passenger seat and I considered all the events that had occurred. I wondered if it was real. Even after I arrived home I wondered if everything was real. It felt so intense. But I couldn’t be sure. it felt like a dream; The walls with their faded colors and the stars that were now visible through my window as I laid down to sleep. The drifting clouds that seemed to vanish into nothingness now that I was home. Still, I managed to sleep. My heavy eyes didn’t want to open.

As usual, the sun rose in the morning and darkness dissipated. I was still asleep when the alarm went off at 7:30. My head was splitting and I remembered how I had actually spent my night; downing a bottle of Rosé with my best friend Amber. The woman and the blizzard and the baby was only a dream. It was still springtime. The sun was hot but the breeze cool. It was beautiful. But I still felt heartbroken. I did not even yet look pregnant. And I wondered... if I still was. And then the phone rang. Startled by the ringtone, I grabbed the phone to stop it ringing. It was Stewart. What could he be calling for at 7:34am?

“Stewart, what’s going on? Is everything okay?”

“It will be if you consider what I have to say. ... Listen, Allie... I just wanted to say, you don’t have to go through with this. I know you scared what your parents will say when they find out and you can’t afford this right now but... I got a job. I’ll marry you and I’ll make this right. I’ll do all I can to provide for us as a family. Please. Just don’t go through with this. I can’t bear the thought of aborting our own son—“

Then I remembered; I had not yet aborted.  I had not yet broken my own heart. My appointment was in two hours. I had a decision to make. And this was the moment.

“Allie? You still there?”

“Y-yes. Sorry. Uhm...”

I thought a moment. Though drunk out of my mind the night before, my conscience was still hard at work trying to decide what was the right thing to do about the life in my womb, and ultimately the life in my soul. I had a glimpse of what I would be without the child I had formed such a quiet and strong bond with. And a snapshot of who I would become without if I were to abort the child I helped create: a mourning, broken soul, cradling the lifeless infant in her memory, forever hating the choice I made, never forgiving myself. And I remembered the words my guilty conscience had told me. I knew what I needed to do.

“Stewart?”

“Yes Allie?”

“We will keep our child. And I will marry you.”

As I said the words I found peace within me that I didn’t know I’d ever feel again. Yes, I was scared about how we’d afford everything. And I was afraid of what my parents would say when they found out about, but there was a quietness in me that knew my child would see the sun. To enjoy the love and the beauty in this world. I would marry my best friend too, and we would move any mountain ... as a family.