Force of a Father

There is a line, even for abortionists. I crossed that line, and I feel remorse. Boy, do I feel remorse. But, on the other hand, I need the money. I look out for myself.

This afternoon I had an appointment with a very young girl. I say young both in age, and in naivete. Accompanying her was her father. For an abortion clinic, it's very rare for a parent to accompany his child. The pamphlet says "Your little secret," after all.
"She was raped. She needs an abortion. End of story."
The girl named "Irrelevant" (as was her name filled out in the papers) was silent. Apparently, her thoughts were irrelevant to the father, and myself. I just want to be paid.

I took her to my office and performed my daily rituals.

Now, some of you may be wondering how I perform my services so quickly. For my own legal safety, I am not allowed to delve into detail. However, I am at liberty to explain that my methods are of the most unconventional while at the same time they remain safe...at least for those actually alive. Sorry. That was uncalled for...
Wait. What am I apologizing for? I'm an abortionist.

When I was finished, she figured there was no point in holding it in any longer.
"I wanted the baby. I was raped. At least, I think I was. But is it rape if I wanted the baby? I didn't want...that....but I wanted the baby..."
Her voice trailed off, her dad finished the rest of the forms and they both just left. I looked on the front desk to find a stack of cash with a sticky note that read "tip."
Tips for abortions? Now I've seen everything.

Now that I've seen everything, I get to think about everything. My line of work helps people. I guess there are cases where it ruins people. Does it ruin people often even though those people have the mindset that they're being helped?

I stare at my earnings again.
That should get me through my date tonight. She's a real special lady.