Oreila took a deep breath. Paused. Breathed out. Took another breath. A few more breaths. Stepped towards the automatic purple-tinted sliding glass door. Took 2 steps back as the door opened in response to her presence at the sensor.
Purple-tinted door. Laminate professionally carved with shapes, waves, which seemed to make up some sort of a picture. Oreila took 2 more steps back. A couple passed her, laughing & chatting, and walked into the entrance of the glass door. When the door slided back into position, she finally saw the picture.
A pathway. Pebbled pathway. Kind of reminded her of the brick road she imagined in Wizard of Oz. “How apt… This might be my pathway to regrets for the rest of my life. Or at least for the next few years. Pathway to life, also lies the pathway to death.”
She felt a nudging in her soul. A nudge to just step right in to find freedom. No more worries forever. No more stigma as she grows larger by the day.
As she was about to take a step, another swirl of indignation churns in her guts. As if to counter the earlier nudge. It was like a final yell for mercy, for good conscience, for a chance.
That was all the little one wanted: a chance at life. A chance to know freedom where choices can be made. Freedom to live & dream. Freedom… to life.
Oreila stared at the path on the door. A path to death. A path to life. A path to freedom.
Freedom from guilt of deciding for another life, freedom from regrets, freedom from wondering about what-could’ve-beens.
Oreila chooses freedom.