Abortion but not on demand continued
A day later at ten o'clock on a sunny morning, Teresa stood at Jane's door dressed in a dress with a checker board pattern on it. She was also wearing black high heels. For a moment, Jane could imagine they were both going out together on some outing. Then she flopped herself down on her bed. She was wearing jeans and an old faded pink blouse.
Teresa sat on the bed and pulled out a thin new razor blade. "It'll hurt a little love," she whispered. "So get ready." Then she expertly slashed Jane's right wrist and then her left wrist. Then she dropped the razor blade on she bed right beside Jane and scuttled out of the room. "I'm off to use the pay phone outside," were her parting words.
Jane started to scream. Pain dug into both her wrists. Blood gushed out onto the bed and soaked the gray bedspread. "Help me! Oh help me!" Jane cried out again and again. Ten minutes later, ambulance men burst through the doorway and into her room. They took her downstairs on a stretcher. The vehicle tore through a warren of London's curving streets to stop at a local hospital. By this time, Jane didn't know where she was.
She had passed out. When she woke up she was in a hospital bed. Now she had to prepare herself for a few interviews. I"d better do well, she thought. Otherwise I won't get an abortion.
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