Remember me?

Remember me?

By: Barbara DeYoung

I remember my family saying that they’d “had it” with me but I don’t remember  what I did to make them so angry. The next thing I knew, they threw me out. I walked for awhile and then I started to cross the highway and that’s when it happened. Blam! A car, or was it a pick-up, slammed into me. I was thrown ion the air.

All I could think of was my babies. My unborn babies. I dragged myself to the edge of the road across from the Macedonia Church and then the pain ca,e… blinding pain in my leg and hip. I couldn’t tell if my babies were still alive within me. I could only feel the awful pain.

I sort of slid myself under a park bench and waited… surely my family will come and get me, take me home, care for me. And then the doubts came tumbling in.

Hours pasted and then a car stopped. A lady and a little girl peered at me. “Please help me” I cried, but they drove off. Soon they returned with another car and two more people. A nice man picked me up and wrapped me gently in the little girl’s coat. I could see kindness in their eyes.

They took me to the Shelter made me as comfortable as they could but the pain was so bad I kept crying out. I couldn’t help it. Then I was back in the car again.

We went to the doctor’s and he x-rayed me. Somehow I knew the way he shook his head that things were bad. There was some talking and then the doctor has a syringe in his hand.

There is no more pain now. My babies and I are dead.

I can’t help wondering, if my family didn’t want me, why didn’t they take me to the Shelter? We’d be alive now, my babies and I, and those folks would have found homes for us… real, loving homes.