The VIRGIN STRIPPER

41

**** Lisa Michaels****
I clicked my key in place and then slowly opened the door and let all my stuff fall on the floor by the door before I walked in.

The week had been pretty hard on me. One because I was all alone since my boyfriend had travelled for a team thingie with the rest of the team and Ella was just not on the right side  of the emotional scale with her menses and all.

And I really felt like crap thanks to the several hours I volunteered at the museum. Just really great with all the dusty documents I had to review and translate. At this rate I think I was going to end up losing my mind.

Just like tonight, I had a bunch of old French copies that I was still reviewing and if I was being honest, even the least bit with myself then I was losing my mind over just one word.

Mal... It had been in one of the documents a couple of times and by a couple of times it meant a whole lot of the freaking document and between my exhaustion and lack of motivation I was just about done thinking of it.

The context of each scenario was different and I'd tried using 'evil' because hell, almost all my classes had translated mal as evil in English but then I had this French colleague at work, Vincente, who'd enlightened Me on the fact that it could also be translated as pain.

You'd think that made it easier but it actually made it a lot hard now because I had to reread the whole freaking document and retranslate it using both possibilities and it was a long document written in the unintelligent era of world war one or something.

I hated the world war one and the documents that were written in  that era— that's until I could translate this one.

While I was on with my mental silking I heard some noise in the bathroom and I groaned.

That girl was really sick and she really needed to see a doctor. But put it past her to threaten to shave you bald if you ever as much as mention the idea again  and you'd probably regret the decision.

Sighing a little, I placed my keys on the counter and rushed to the bathroom.

"You look like shit. I really need to call a doctor," I informed her while I piled up her hair away from her face and sat down on the floor as I let her haul her insides out in the toilet.

Seriously, who had menses this hard? I mean the girl couldn't even get out of the bed let alone eat any amount of food. Not even a spoonful.

The painkillers she'd taken this morning before I left were clearly no use and neither was my condoning her stupid demand of not calling a doctor or taking her to be checked by one.

"I'-m, fine!" She breathed and I sighed, letting go of her hair as she sat up against the toilet.

"You're not," I told her with a stern voice and sighed. There was no point with arguing with a drained Ella, she was just as bad as a fully healthy one if not worse. "Let's get you to bed. We'll go to the hospital tomorrow and I'm not taking any protests from you." I warned just strictly enough to have her groan but nothing more to it.

Just as we were about to make it to the bedroom with her leaning on me and wincing with every step she took, the doorbell rang.

I let Ella settle on the bed before walking down to open the front door.

When I got to the door, I slightly pushed the documents that had spilled over by the entry corridor with my foot and reached for the handle.

"One minute!" Were the first words that came from his mouth and I eyed him. He looked tired. And dishevelled. Almost like he had not slept for a while and the way he stood and swayed on his feet I think he was drunk or something.