Lucy Camden she sat in a dingy hospital room, talking to a slender young woman with blue eyes and rosy cheeks. Lucy was rocking a tiny blue-eyed baby girl in her arms.
* * *
I can't wait to be married to Kevin. Not for the reasons you might think, though. I'm not stupid. I can see how he treats me. How he belittles me, condescends, doesn't respect me. I'm not blind. If I stay with him long enough, he will destroy me. What little of the Lucy Camden there is in me will disappear. The first time I saw him, I could feel what kind of person he was. I knew he would hurt me, diminish me.
I knew I needed him.
God had sent him to me, to carry out justice.
You see, I've always believed in justice. That God would reward good and punish evil and that in the end it would work out equal. I always tried to do my best to make life fair—I protested the oppression of women by the Taliban, built houses, and always tried to be a good person and not harm anyone. But I faltered often, because I am human. I lost a friend because I condoned her irresponsibility. I was humiliated by Matt's sex talk video because I foolishly tried to disobey God's mandate about pre-marital sex.
Life was about balance. And it made sense.
That's why I wanted to be a minister. I wanted to help people. Of course I wanted God to reward me for my goodness. But I also wanted to help others reap His goodness and to be an instrument for His rewards. Like my father, I wanted to help people suffering injustices.
Bad things should not happen to the innocent. Bad things only happen to those who deserve it. When I studied religions—so long ago—I almost converted to Buddhism, simply because the idea of karma appealed to me that much. You reap what you sow, and all those other clichés. But I never could get past the idea of not having a soul—it seemed so much like it diminished individuality. If one person was interchangeable with the next, then why did anything matter?
And things do matter. People matter. Some more than others. Like you—you matter. Kevin? A mere machine to me. But you are everything.
* * *
The young woman just looked at Lucy, her face impassive. Lucy felt her eyes tear up, and looked away in shame. She continued her story.
* * *
So, what did I do to have Kevin happen to me?
You know. You more than anyone must understand this deserved punishment.
My life ended the day you were created. I don't know the date. There is no way for me to tell, there are too many possibilities. So I count by a different marker. The day I first learned of your existence.
Why did I sleep with him before we were married? Everything came from that. I now understand why my parents strove to keep us from making that mistake. It ruined everything. I wasn't strong enough.
I was almost two months late, which was unusual for me. I usually could set my watch by my menstrual cycle. I had been trying to give any other reason…Maybe the stress of school and being away from home for the first time was getting to me, maybe it was guilt. But finally, I couldn't deny it anymore. I had to take the test.
I took it early one Saturday morning. Jeremy held me in the chalky, pre-dawn light while we waited.
Whatever happens Luce, it'll be okay. I love you; my parents will help us. Whatever happens we're in this together. I'm here for you.
Three minutes never felt so long before.
And at the end, there was no more denial.
We told Jeremy's parents. They were so good, and understanding. For the first time of my life I understood what true compassion and mercy were, what it really meant to be a Christian. His mother hugged me, didn't condemn.
I wish you were my mother, I found myself thinking.
But we could only think of one thing to do. There was no way to tell my parents. No way at all. I imagined the looks of severe disappointment and anger on their faces.
Not that anger and condemnation weren't what I deserved. But I was the good daughter; I never screwed up like Mary, never rebelled against their wishes like Ruthie had with football.
I was afraid.
A month later, Jeremy and I sat in the clinic, waiting. I had felt like I should be alone and had tried to stop him from coming, but he had insisted. He'd come to every doctor's appointment. We're in this together. Secretly, I was grateful.
I sat in the waiting room, hugging myself. Imagine, Lucy Camden, sitting in a clinic full of murderers, ready to become one myself. I looked at the women around me, and some of them were just girls. Almost all of them looked just as confused and frightened and guilty and angry as I did.
Why hadn't I ever helped people like this back in Glen Oak? Why had I believed the lies? They weren't murderers. They weren't heartlessly throwing away their children like I had been told. No. They were scared, like me. I briefly wondered how many were here because they were too ashamed to tell their parents, because they knew they would be met with scorn.
The nurse called my name and I could barely get out of my chair.
Jeremy stood up. Lucy, he said, You don't have to do this. We'll manage somehow and I know what this means to you. I love you.
I know. And I follow the nurse into the back.
Afterward, I felt empty. Like a killer.
It went on for weeks. I couldn't get out of bed, couldn't stop crying, couldn't accept the hugs and sympathy Jeremy and his family poured on me. I didn't deserve this kind of support. Please, I would sob. Just give me time.
Finally, the three of them came into the bedroom and suggested I see a counselor. But I couldn't. No one in the Camden family ever needed counseling for depression, for any mental illness. We were supposed to be perfect. They'd find out, and then they'd want to know why. I cried as I tried to explain it. Jeremy reached down to rub my back and comfort me, and it was all I could do to keep from screaming at the gentleness of it.
I left because I couldn't stand the undeserved tenderness of his touch. I didn't deserve it. I couldn't show you, my own child, this kind of tenderness, how could I deserve it?
So I returned home, with a failed engagement behind me. I couldn't very well give the real reason why I'd left New York, so I lied. It killed me to blame Jeremy's parents, to paint them in such a horrible light, when they'd been nothing but kind to me. But it follows the pattern. I'll do anything to avoid shame. Even lie, even kill. All the things God hates.
And somehow, I think they still knew. At least Mom knew something was wrong. I could tell, because she was so casual about my return. Not like when Mary came home at all. I realized I was a lost cause. I stopped caring. And I don't regret anything anymore.
No, that's a lie. I regret losing you. Sometimes, I wish…I just think of what my life would be now, if I'd stayed with Jeremy and we'd kept you. You would have been a beautiful, laughing blue-eyed girl, round, with sweet rosy cheeks. I just know it, because that's how I see you in my dreams. And you grow up to be a beautiful woman with plans and goals and we'd go to lunch together and shopping and you'd love me. Jeremy and I would be married and God would still love me.
That is why God sent me Kevin. He's the way I will make amends. Life with him will be my penance.
I hope it's enough. How much suffering does it take to balance out a human life? Because I want forgiveness. I want your forgiveness.
* * *
The woman's laughter, harsh and cold, interrupted Lucy. She looked up to see the young woman standing. She slapped Lucy. Lucy's eyes widened with shock as the woman—her daughter—spit in her face and walked away without a word.
The baby in Lucy's arms—also her daughter—started to cry with hunger. Lucy quickly went to a bathroom and unbuttoned her blouse, but only poison came from her breasts. What kind of mother was she? She couldn't take care of her baby. No, she was losing her… The baby turned to dust in her arms... No!
* * *
Lucy awoke, in tears. She hated these dreams, but she figured they were more punishment from God, just like Kevin. What made it even worse was that she always lost the child twice in the dreams…she had lost the baby, and she had lost the beautiful adult that the baby would have become.
She pressed hard on the bruise Kevin had given her on her arm. He was already hitting her once and a while, but it wasn't enough yet. The dream had shown her that. But it would get worse. She'd studied domestic abuses in one of her classes to be a minister, and abuse always got worse over time. She looked at the calendar and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that she had just a week to go until the wedding. One week until her penance really began.
* * *
Author's Note: This is not an anti-abortion treatise. Rather, I was exploring what would happen to someone who had been raised in such a rigid and uncompassionate environment such as the Camden household if she did get an abortion. I have a feeling that the guilt would consume them because of lack of support and understanding from their family. The Camdens are very uncompassionate and not very understanding and tend to see things only in terms of black and white.
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I don't own any of the characters used here, or Seventh Heaven. These belong to Brenda Hampton, Thank God.
