Read Online Anything but Normal by Melody Carlson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Melody Carlson
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out.”
Carrie Anne stuck out her hand. “Deal.”
Sophie shook it halfheartedly. “Yeah, whatever.”
The other three began talking about what they would wear, and Sophie stood. “Later,” she said quickly. “I have to get something from my locker.” She hurried on her way. She hoped she could make it to the restroom near the locker bay. It was usually the least busy. But before she could round the corner to get there, she knew it was too late. Fortunately there was a trash can handy. She grabbed hold of it and promptly lost her lunch.
“Nasty!” A girl nearby made a disgusted face.
“That’s one way to lose a couple pounds,” her friend said. “Nice shot, babe.” Naturally this came from a jock. Then he plugged his nose as he hurried past.
Sophie ignored them and continued on to the bathroom, where she rinsed out her mouth, splashed her face with water, and fished a box of breath mints out of her bag. She popped two in her mouth and headed for class.
As she walked by a bulletin board, she stopped. There, right next to a flyer about homecoming queen elections, was a totally different sort of flyer.
Unwanted pregnancy?
• Your body, your choice
• A woman’s right to decide
• You have questions, we have answers
• Don’t wait until it’s too late
She stared at the bold slug lines. These people were not beating around the bush. She looked at the very bottom of the poster to see, in a much smaller font, the address and phone number of the free family planning clinic.
Sophie turned away and sighed. She knew exactly where that particular clinic was located. She’d gone there numerous times with Carrie Anne and her family. They would gather on the sidewalk in front to pray and to protest against the abortions performed. She had even carried a sign with a colored photograph of an unborn baby while picketing there. She’d tried to talk young women out of going inside that terrible place. She’d tried to make them understand that just because a baby was unborn didn’t mean that it wasn’t a living human being.
But she wasn’t so sure anymore. Not about anything. Mostly she was confused and frightened. And she was beginning to understand why a woman would even consider such a horrendous act. Not that she was considering it herself. Not really.
Sophie honestly did not remember driving there. She didn’t even remember leaving school, getting into her car, driving across town, and finally pulling up into the parking lot in back. But as she got out of her car, she knew exactly where she was. And as she went through the back door and down a dimly lit corridor, she knew exactly what she was doing. At least, that was what she told herself.
Her hands shook as she filled out the form. But it was like a part of her had shut down. She wasn’t sure whether it was her head or her heart, or perhaps it was both. She filled out the lines in a mechanical way, as if she was on some kind of automatic pilot. Or as if she was dead.
Maybe she was dead. If she was, then what she was about to do could not be considered murder. Because you couldn’t kill something that wasn’t even alive. Right?
Like a robot she went to the counter and slid the clipboard to the receptionist. The woman smiled, but it was a sad smile, a knowing smile—a smile that had probably given up a long time (and a lot of babies) ago.
“You might want to read these while you wait to see the counselor,” the woman said as she slid a couple of pamphlets toward Sophie.
Sophie nodded. “Thanks.” Then, still moving on autopilot, she made her way back to the seating area, which thankfully was empty. She sat down and attempted to focus her eyes on the material in her hand, but it seemed to jump out at her in blips and spurts. “Half of all pregnancies are unplanned . . . one in three women have had abortions . . . morning-after pill . . . aspiration . . . vacuum . . .”
Sophie set the pamphlets on the coffee table next to a bunch of
Carrie Anne stuck out her hand. “Deal.”
Sophie shook it halfheartedly. “Yeah, whatever.”
The other three began talking about what they would wear, and Sophie stood. “Later,” she said quickly. “I have to get something from my locker.” She hurried on her way. She hoped she could make it to the restroom near the locker bay. It was usually the least busy. But before she could round the corner to get there, she knew it was too late. Fortunately there was a trash can handy. She grabbed hold of it and promptly lost her lunch.
“Nasty!” A girl nearby made a disgusted face.
“That’s one way to lose a couple pounds,” her friend said. “Nice shot, babe.” Naturally this came from a jock. Then he plugged his nose as he hurried past.
Sophie ignored them and continued on to the bathroom, where she rinsed out her mouth, splashed her face with water, and fished a box of breath mints out of her bag. She popped two in her mouth and headed for class.
As she walked by a bulletin board, she stopped. There, right next to a flyer about homecoming queen elections, was a totally different sort of flyer.
Unwanted pregnancy?
• Your body, your choice
• A woman’s right to decide
• You have questions, we have answers
• Don’t wait until it’s too late
She stared at the bold slug lines. These people were not beating around the bush. She looked at the very bottom of the poster to see, in a much smaller font, the address and phone number of the free family planning clinic.
Sophie turned away and sighed. She knew exactly where that particular clinic was located. She’d gone there numerous times with Carrie Anne and her family. They would gather on the sidewalk in front to pray and to protest against the abortions performed. She had even carried a sign with a colored photograph of an unborn baby while picketing there. She’d tried to talk young women out of going inside that terrible place. She’d tried to make them understand that just because a baby was unborn didn’t mean that it wasn’t a living human being.
But she wasn’t so sure anymore. Not about anything. Mostly she was confused and frightened. And she was beginning to understand why a woman would even consider such a horrendous act. Not that she was considering it herself. Not really.
Sophie honestly did not remember driving there. She didn’t even remember leaving school, getting into her car, driving across town, and finally pulling up into the parking lot in back. But as she got out of her car, she knew exactly where she was. And as she went through the back door and down a dimly lit corridor, she knew exactly what she was doing. At least, that was what she told herself.
Her hands shook as she filled out the form. But it was like a part of her had shut down. She wasn’t sure whether it was her head or her heart, or perhaps it was both. She filled out the lines in a mechanical way, as if she was on some kind of automatic pilot. Or as if she was dead.
Maybe she was dead. If she was, then what she was about to do could not be considered murder. Because you couldn’t kill something that wasn’t even alive. Right?
Like a robot she went to the counter and slid the clipboard to the receptionist. The woman smiled, but it was a sad smile, a knowing smile—a smile that had probably given up a long time (and a lot of babies) ago.
“You might want to read these while you wait to see the counselor,” the woman said as she slid a couple of pamphlets toward Sophie.
Sophie nodded. “Thanks.” Then, still moving on autopilot, she made her way back to the seating area, which thankfully was empty. She sat down and attempted to focus her eyes on the material in her hand, but it seemed to jump out at her in blips and spurts. “Half of all pregnancies are unplanned . . . one in three women have had abortions . . . morning-after pill . . . aspiration . . . vacuum . . .”
Sophie set the pamphlets on the coffee table next to a bunch of
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