There was a young man who lived an active and fulfulling life. He was friendly, worked hard and people liked him. He lived in a simple house and took good care of it. He was usually careful to keep his house protected and to lock the doors at night.
One evening he forgot to lock the door, it just slipped his mind, a simple accident.
When he noticed the next day, he was worried, but decided that there had been no real harm done. He made a note to be extra careful in the future and tried not to worry about what could have happened.
That evening he was relaxing, watching tv. Sinking into his armchair he started to drift off, the soft glow from the set on his face. His heavy eyes moved across the room.
He sat bolt upright, heart pounding, a cold dampness breaking out on his face.
He had just noticed the stranger in the corner.
The stranger was just sitting there on the floor, hunched over, arms wrapped around her knees, long black hair falling down to the floor. Her eyes seemed to be closed and her body was gently rising and falling with her breath.
A young woman, but where had she come from?
The man realised with shock that he had not been so careful after all. This stranger must have snuck in the night the door had been left unlocked.
Getting up from his armchair, he walked slowly over to take a closer look at the stranger. As he got closer the stranger looked up and opened her eyes. Her face was calm, expressionless. She gazed around her, wide blue eyes sweeping the room as if only seeing it for the first time.
“Who are you?, What are you doing in my house? You are going to have to leave.”
The blue eyes flinched and locked with the mans.
“I don’t know who I am. I just found myself here. I can’t leave, at least not yet.”
The strangers voice was soft, almost childlike, naive, innocent, ignorant.
“Did you come in the other evening when I left the door unlocked”
The young woman began to look frightened.
“I don’t know. I…can’t remember.
I can’t remember…anything”
“This is my house, my property, I say who can and who can’t stay here and I didn’t invite you in. You being here is an accident, you must leave. Do you understand?”
A confused look crept across the strangers face.
“No, I can’t. I cant leave yet.”
“I don’t know…I just know Im not ready. Won’t you let me stay until I’m ready”
The man went quiet for a few minutes, thinking.
“No this is my house! I’m not ready for someone else to be here. If I want someone in my house, it’ll be when I decide, I have that right. This can’t happen now. For a start I can’t afford another person in the house and you hardly seem to have a source of income. I want you gone”
Walking over to the stranger he grabbed her by the arm and began to pull. He stopped immediately as the stranger screamed in agony.
The man looked down and gasped in horror. Two thin lines of blood seeped from her eyes and down her pale perfect skin.
“You hurt me! You’re hurting me! I can’t leave, I don’t have a choice. I’m not ready, I need to stay here a lot longer”
“I’m sorry but this is my house and I do have a choice. This is my life. You are not welcome. You were not invited. Your presence was not planned. You being here is an accident. If you stay you are going to ruin my life. I can’t deal with another person here right now. As this is my house I have the right to deal with you as I see fit. Your life is in my hands. I have no need for your life”
The man walked over to a locked metal cabinet above a table. Reaching into his jacket he pulled out a key. Inserting the key in the lock, he turned it and opened the cabinet door. Inside on a shelf was a revolver and a box of ammunition.
“What are you doing? What is that thing?”
“I’m sorry, I’d rather not do this”
The man reached in and took the gun and he took a single bullet from the box. He set them on the table below and looked at them.
“Can’t I just stay until I’m ready? I could leave straight away”
“No, this is my house, my life. You have no rights here”
Picking up the gun the man popped open the cylinder and rolled it gently between his fingers. He looked at the stranger and inserted the bullet.
“What is that? What are you doing?”
“You really don’t know what this is?”
“I don’t know what anything is. Everything around me seems new. All I know is that I feel safe here”
The man snapped the gun shut and cocked the hammer.
“Are you 100% certain you can’t just leave now?”
“I can’t go, I’m not ready, I have to stay for now”
“I’m sorry but that’s not good enough, I have my life to live”
The man quickly walked over to the young woman and put the gun to her head. She looked straight back at him, unaware of the significance of what he was doing.
“This is not my fault, it was only once”
He pulled the trigger, blowing the strangers brains out onto the floor.
“My home, my choice, my right”
(The above is kinda how the idea of lifestyle abortions or abortions of convenience makes me feel. I feel differently about other situations to varying degrees. The story came to me while out for a run.)