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Birmingham, 1916
"Lay her on her stomach and secure her." The nurses and doctors got to work, strapping the screaming girl to the table.
Isabella, who hadn't said a word since she was forced into the car by Arthur Sr., had started to scream her lungs out after she had seen the scary looking room she was being dragged into. She had been screaming but no one seemed to care, everyone carried on doing their job as if this was usual.
The girl hated being so small. There wasn't any use in trying to fight off the hands dragging her. She wasn't strong enough to fight them. When she first tried to resist the hands, they easily picked her up from the ground and carried her small screaming body towards the table.
"Mr. Shelby, if you wish, you would be most welcome to stay and watch the treatment." Doctor Rohaug informed Arthur Sr. who stood watching the scene unfold from the doorway.
"No, thank you. When should I come to pick her up?"
"The treatments usually take three hours, sometimes they last longer. Margaret at the reception will give you any further information, I'll walk you to her."
"Have her strapped down by the time I'm back."
Isabella kept screaming for help, for them to stop, for her father to help her. No one did anything. The doctors held her body down while the nurses secured the straps around her arms, legs, feet, back and neck.
Isabella felt the straps dig into her body and she knew they would bruise. She tried moving but the straps prevented all her movements. She was stuck on the table.
She stopped screaming once she realized she was stuck. And no one were going to help her. She was terrified, more than when she was on her knees reading bible verses while being felt up by the priest. She knew what the priest would do, she knew he only touched her. She didn't know what the doctors and nurses were going to do, they had different machines and equipment laid out. Nothing looked friendly.
"Is she secure?" Doctor Rohaug questioned as he stepped back into the room.
"Yes Doctor."
"Hello Isabella. I'm Doctor Collin Rohaug, it's nice to make your acquaintance." He introduced himself as he bent down so Isabella could see him, since she was laid on the table on her stomach with her head turned to the side.
"Fuck you."
"Ah. What language you have, young lady. Don't worry, you're allowed to use whatever language you wish when you are here. Now, do you know why you're here?" Doctor Rohaug questioned. Isabella, no matter how smart, had no idea why she was there. "Since it seems you don't know, I'll explain it to you. Your father and Father Pittman have informed me of your disease. And as with most diseases and sicknesses, there's a cure."
