The Decision
The unforgettable 90 day diary of a young woman's struggle to decide her fate and that of her unborn child.
Warning!!!!
This story is only meant to be read by adults who are mentally healthy and not suffering from depression.
First 3 pages from The Decision
THE LAST DAY
Elizabeth Fagan stood before the lavishly carved oak door of the Palace Hotel’s grandest suite. Gently she fingered the door’s ornate escutcheon as she unlocked the King’s Chamber. A warm glowing light covered her from the lit alabaster and brass ceiling fixture. Soft haunting sounds of classical piano music escaped as she began pushing the grand door open. She lingered in the hallway for a few minutes longer taking in every rich detail of the Prodigal Son medieval tapestry hanging on the wall.
Once inside the chamber’s large opulent living room, she slid off her tight dress black heels and walked on the highly polished wood floor in her stocking feet.
Today was perfect. Everything went as planned, she said to herself while sitting on the floor watching the cracking fire burning in the corner stone hearth. The flames and the shadows they created on the walls and ceiling all danced to the new sounds of heralding trumpets and violins.
The concierge must have told the housekeeper to put the radio on when she started the fire. Nice touch. But now it was time to do what I came to do.
Elizabeth walked past the open French glass doors that led to the bedroom. She took her suitcase out of the closet and placed it on the elegant four-poster bed’s large overstuffed mattress. From it, she took her diary, a bottle of Frangelica and two plastic containers of pills.
The lingering sent of jasmine and vanilla from the candles she burned last night still lingered in the room. So this is how it feels to wake up like a princess every morning of your life, she had told herself that morning when the bright sunlight shown through the gothic arched windows. This life was not meant for the likes of me, she thought. Elizabeth again looked out the bedroom windows at the Hudson River below and easily saw the New York City skyline to the south. The night is so clear. Just as clear as what I must do.
She walked back into the living room and placed her red embroidered book and the pills on top of the magnificent cherry finished Queen Ann desk that sat by the far wall. Going over to the exquisitely carved cabinet in the corner, she took out a large crystal wine goblet and filled it with the Frangelica. She savored its flavorful sweetness as she sipped. Walking back to the desk, her worn diary looked out of place next to the brown leather folder containing pieces of the hotel’s expensive stationary. Embossed in gold, on the top of each page was a picture of the King’s Chamber. Momentarily she considered using a piece for her suicide note. That’s not the plan. I’ve followed it this long. I’ll stay to it now. Elizabeth freshened her drink and opened the containers of pills. She swallowed each one with sips of her hazelnut drink in between. She took the hotel’s fancy fountain pen from its holder and opened her journal. She began writing on the first page. The page she had intentionally left blank three months ago.
Day 1, Labor Day, September 1
First entry: I am going to kill myself. Oh, how just this simple act of writing these words down has given me hope there will be an end to all my suffering. I have been crying all week. Only now, as I sit here writing have the tears finally stopped. I know that death is the grand finale. There is no coming back. So many people fear it. And yet, for me it is the only way to peace. I have given much thought on suicide as a viable solution. I have heard the cliché that suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem. I have not, nor am I making this decision lightly. That is why I have given myself ninety days before I do it.
Ninety days is a reasonable amount of time to consider something before doing it. I came up with that number because I think I have enough money to support myself for the next three months. Also, I don’t think by that time anyone will really notice that I am pregnant.
I didn’t plan for my life to be this way. I had no control over the turns it made. I love Johnny. It made no difference what my family said about him or how many times they preached and warned me that I’d end up nowhere with him. My parents, my whole family DOESN’T understand love. Real love… the kind of love so unconditional that you love your man no matter what. That’s how deeply I love Johnny and I always will. I wanted to show them and prove them all wrong. Maybe in time I will. That’s also why I have given myself ninety days.
This is all new to Johnny. I shouldn’t have told him I was pregnant during a fight. He always says things he doesn’t mean when we argue. When he calms down, I know he’ll take back the “Get rid of it!” he screamed at me. He always takes all the hurtful words back and makes it up to me. That’s when he’s able to really show me how much he loves me. He brings me flowers, takes me out to eat and makes love to me. But it has never taken him this long before to come to his senses.
I haven’t been able to sleep these last two weeks with all my crying. I have to get control of my life. I have too. I have a baby to think of. This decision affects it as much as me. Because of my lack of sleep, I realize that I have become very forgetful and I am having trouble concentrating. I find myself rambling on in my head with thoughts of every mistake and failure that make up my horrible life. This is why I have decided to write all my thoughts and decisions down. This way I will know that I have made this decision calmly and rationally. This is my plan and the first step is to make a list of everything I know.
WHAT I KNOW:
I am 6 weeks pregnant.
Johnny has left me.
He’s not coming back.
My family will not support me with a baby.
I don’t make enough money to be a single parent.
I think I have enough money to last me for ninety days.
PROOF OF WHAT I KNOW:
6 weeks pregnant: Did 2 EPS urine pregnancy test at work.
Johnny’s gone: He took everything that was his out of our apartment.
No chance he’ll be back: Really don’t know that for sure. He is badmouthing me. But he could always come to his senses.
My family will not help: They have never helped me in the past but this could be different.
I don’t make enough money to be a single parent: I can’t afford this apartment on my salary alone. I’ll have to figure out on paper a budget to see if on my salary if I could raise a child alone.
Enough money to last ninety days: It takes 3 months before you can have your telephone, electric and cable television turned off. This month’s rent is paid. I have enough money in my checking account to pay next month’s rent and for the last month, I can use my security.
WHAT ARE MY OPTIONS:
Have the baby.
Abortion.
Adoption.
My head is hurting too much to go on. It’s too hard to write through the tears. I’ll stop now and continue tomorrow.
The unforgettable 90 day diary of a young woman's struggle to decide her fate and that of her unborn child.
Warning!!!!
This story is only meant to be read by adults who are mentally healthy and not suffering from depression.
First 3 pages from The Decision
THE LAST DAY
Elizabeth Fagan stood before the lavishly carved oak door of the Palace Hotel’s grandest suite. Gently she fingered the door’s ornate escutcheon as she unlocked the King’s Chamber. A warm glowing light covered her from the lit alabaster and brass ceiling fixture. Soft haunting sounds of classical piano music escaped as she began pushing the grand door open. She lingered in the hallway for a few minutes longer taking in every rich detail of the Prodigal Son medieval tapestry hanging on the wall.
Once inside the chamber’s large opulent living room, she slid off her tight dress black heels and walked on the highly polished wood floor in her stocking feet.
Today was perfect. Everything went as planned, she said to herself while sitting on the floor watching the cracking fire burning in the corner stone hearth. The flames and the shadows they created on the walls and ceiling all danced to the new sounds of heralding trumpets and violins.
The concierge must have told the housekeeper to put the radio on when she started the fire. Nice touch. But now it was time to do what I came to do.
Elizabeth walked past the open French glass doors that led to the bedroom. She took her suitcase out of the closet and placed it on the elegant four-poster bed’s large overstuffed mattress. From it, she took her diary, a bottle of Frangelica and two plastic containers of pills.
The lingering sent of jasmine and vanilla from the candles she burned last night still lingered in the room. So this is how it feels to wake up like a princess every morning of your life, she had told herself that morning when the bright sunlight shown through the gothic arched windows. This life was not meant for the likes of me, she thought. Elizabeth again looked out the bedroom windows at the Hudson River below and easily saw the New York City skyline to the south. The night is so clear. Just as clear as what I must do.
She walked back into the living room and placed her red embroidered book and the pills on top of the magnificent cherry finished Queen Ann desk that sat by the far wall. Going over to the exquisitely carved cabinet in the corner, she took out a large crystal wine goblet and filled it with the Frangelica. She savored its flavorful sweetness as she sipped. Walking back to the desk, her worn diary looked out of place next to the brown leather folder containing pieces of the hotel’s expensive stationary. Embossed in gold, on the top of each page was a picture of the King’s Chamber. Momentarily she considered using a piece for her suicide note. That’s not the plan. I’ve followed it this long. I’ll stay to it now. Elizabeth freshened her drink and opened the containers of pills. She swallowed each one with sips of her hazelnut drink in between. She took the hotel’s fancy fountain pen from its holder and opened her journal. She began writing on the first page. The page she had intentionally left blank three months ago.
Day 1, Labor Day, September 1
First entry: I am going to kill myself. Oh, how just this simple act of writing these words down has given me hope there will be an end to all my suffering. I have been crying all week. Only now, as I sit here writing have the tears finally stopped. I know that death is the grand finale. There is no coming back. So many people fear it. And yet, for me it is the only way to peace. I have given much thought on suicide as a viable solution. I have heard the cliché that suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem. I have not, nor am I making this decision lightly. That is why I have given myself ninety days before I do it.
Ninety days is a reasonable amount of time to consider something before doing it. I came up with that number because I think I have enough money to support myself for the next three months. Also, I don’t think by that time anyone will really notice that I am pregnant.
I didn’t plan for my life to be this way. I had no control over the turns it made. I love Johnny. It made no difference what my family said about him or how many times they preached and warned me that I’d end up nowhere with him. My parents, my whole family DOESN’T understand love. Real love… the kind of love so unconditional that you love your man no matter what. That’s how deeply I love Johnny and I always will. I wanted to show them and prove them all wrong. Maybe in time I will. That’s also why I have given myself ninety days.
This is all new to Johnny. I shouldn’t have told him I was pregnant during a fight. He always says things he doesn’t mean when we argue. When he calms down, I know he’ll take back the “Get rid of it!” he screamed at me. He always takes all the hurtful words back and makes it up to me. That’s when he’s able to really show me how much he loves me. He brings me flowers, takes me out to eat and makes love to me. But it has never taken him this long before to come to his senses.
I haven’t been able to sleep these last two weeks with all my crying. I have to get control of my life. I have too. I have a baby to think of. This decision affects it as much as me. Because of my lack of sleep, I realize that I have become very forgetful and I am having trouble concentrating. I find myself rambling on in my head with thoughts of every mistake and failure that make up my horrible life. This is why I have decided to write all my thoughts and decisions down. This way I will know that I have made this decision calmly and rationally. This is my plan and the first step is to make a list of everything I know.
WHAT I KNOW:
I am 6 weeks pregnant.
Johnny has left me.
He’s not coming back.
My family will not support me with a baby.
I don’t make enough money to be a single parent.
I think I have enough money to last me for ninety days.
PROOF OF WHAT I KNOW:
6 weeks pregnant: Did 2 EPS urine pregnancy test at work.
Johnny’s gone: He took everything that was his out of our apartment.
No chance he’ll be back: Really don’t know that for sure. He is badmouthing me. But he could always come to his senses.
My family will not help: They have never helped me in the past but this could be different.
I don’t make enough money to be a single parent: I can’t afford this apartment on my salary alone. I’ll have to figure out on paper a budget to see if on my salary if I could raise a child alone.
Enough money to last ninety days: It takes 3 months before you can have your telephone, electric and cable television turned off. This month’s rent is paid. I have enough money in my checking account to pay next month’s rent and for the last month, I can use my security.
WHAT ARE MY OPTIONS:
Have the baby.
Abortion.
Adoption.
My head is hurting too much to go on. It’s too hard to write through the tears. I’ll stop now and continue tomorrow.
