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Bethany had marketable looks that could almost make her famous – blonde hair, pouty lips, long legs – but instead they got her pregnant when she was only 17 and still stupid enough to think she had a future.
She opted for an abortion. The decision came after a lot of reflection, sleepless nights, prayer and journal entries. She got a lift to the local clinic from her friend. She went to one in the next county over, in case she ran in to someone she knew.
She had expected more drama, more protesters, more something. She had secretly longed for the controversy, hoping it would lend the procedure a gravity that she thought such an important decision deserved. Instead she found a drab waiting room with a coffee table littered with dated magazines.
The abortion went without incident. What Bethany did not realize is that she was pregnant with Jesus, God’s son. Bethany’s first birth was going to realize the prophecy foretold in the Bible. It was going to be His second coming.
The fetus, still a lump of misshapen cells in the first trimester, was placed in a fluorescent bio-hazard medical waste bag and disposed of in a baby incinerator in a small town near the county line. Bethany visited church the Sunday after next. She felt too consumed with guilt to go that first Sunday, the egocentric cunt. She lit a candle, closed her eyes and inhaled the smoke like it was a mystical apparition, and soundlessly wept.
Bethany had a miscarriage three-years later with her husband, Tad, a real earnest fucking ass hole who knew nothing about the abortion. Bethany thought her baby died because God was angry with her for the abortion. She was wrong. It was just because she had excess antiphospholid antibodies that caused blood clotting and damaged her placenta. Religion and all that God stuff didn’t matter anymore because Bethany killed Jesus.
Date Written: June 03, 2004
Author: scoop
Average Vote: 4.5