By Payton Kuhn

The November chill stung my cheeks into a rosy pink,
outside of Chicago’s Mercy Hospital and Medical Center
where I had just finished a back-aching shift. But he
was the one who sent the shiver down my spine when he
appeared in that lot asking for the ring back. But he
didn’t really come for the ring. The glare of the gun
caught my eye and he
pulled the trigger and now it’s my blood
that stained the pavement, and now it’s my breath
that has slowed to a halt just because I
cut off our wedding.
My name was Dr. Tamara O’Neal.

The car rumbled into the driveway
dropping off my baby girl from class.
But he wasn’t just there for the errand.
The venom lacing his voice and
the darkness clouding his eyes told me that.
All I waited for, wanted for, was a divorce,
but he couldn’t handle it.
The knife was an extension of his hand,
pulsing in and out of my skin, my organs, my muscles.
Our daughters watched their momma’s blood
spatter and mingle with the dirt on the driveway
until he ran off and left me
to die.
My name was Aisha Fraser Mason.

Past the subway stop, his voice
shouted through the night air, ringing in my ears.
My lips remained shut but that only fueled the fire
within him to follow me into the parking garage.
But still, I refused to talk.
My family car became the place
where I was violated and strangled,
the breath squeezed from my throat
just because I was afraid to use it in your direction.
I was an honors student, future physical therapist
at the University of Illinois.
But he broke me before I ever had the chance
to heal a single person.
My name was Ruth George.

I am asked why I say “no” with a smile or lighthearted laugh.
I am asked why an apology is included.
For it’s my right, right? The right to choose
what I want to do with my body?
So, then it should be a given that what I say is the final answer, right?
That I wouldn’t feel the need to sugarcoat the decision
of what I want my body
to do or not, right?
Wrong.
The rejection killings of
Dr. Tamara O’Neal
Aisha Fraser Mason
Ruth George
have taught me that some men refuse to hear the “no”.
So, the firmness is replaced with a suggestion,
the frown is replaced with a smile,
and the anger is replaced with kindness
because in the end, it is not always
“my body, my choice”
but instead,
“my body, your choice”

Payton Kuhn is a sophomore majoring in forensic biology and minoring in creative writing. She likes to read, travel, and meet new people. Her favorite tv show is “Friends,” and she loves finding new places to go hiking. It’s on her bucket list to go hike Mount Nittany this summer!