Thoughts From A Baby By Frank J.

02 Dec, 2004 by John Hawkins

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My nerves can’t take this anymore; I need to get out of here. It so deceptively warm and comfortable in the womb… like they want me to fall asleep. But I can’t sleep… that’s when they come for me. I’m sure that a couple of time I felt some poking and prodding was them preparing the vacuum… sure of it! They were just waiting for me to go to sleep… but I was on to them! You won’t get me without a fight!

I’m so tired, though. I can’t keep alert like this forever. I can’t go on with this constant threat of death. Has it been nine months, yet? I want out! It’s felt like years…

Yes! It has been nine months! I can see the light! I’m getting out…

Wait! This could be one of those partial birth abortions! They’re going to suck my brains out, those b@stards! Get your dirty hands off me!

No, I’m going out head first. They only do those feet first, I think. There, I’m partially out, but I got to get all out so they can’t kill me. Come on feet…

Yes! I’m born! You can’t kill me now, you @%$# b@stards! I have legal protections now. I’m a person, you @%$# psychos! And…

No… is that Dutch they’re speaking? No, Lord, no. I’ve been born in the @%$# Netherlands! What does that doctor have in his hands? Is it something to euthanize me with?

When will the Sword of Damocles ever be removed from above my head?!

If you enjoyed this satire by Frank J., you can read more of his work at IMAO.