☁︎𝑺𝑬𝑹𝑬𝑵𝑬☁︎

Chapter 9️⃣

☁︎𝑆𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑖𝑡𝑦☁︎

They should have just let me kill him. They should have just left the both of us so I would have been able to break majority of his bones and bust some of his fragile internal organs so he could bleed to death.

That boy should be thankful that they pulled me off him, because if not, ehn, I would have put an end to his meaningless life. I was so ready to transfer all the aggression, and what I did wasn't up to half of what I had in mind.

I really don't care if he hated what I said. It was the truth, and I'm willing to say it over and over again just so he can hear it.

The buzz of the clipper running through my hair brings me back to planet earth as clumps of my long hair fall to the floor.

"It's such a shame we're doing this," mutters the nurse who's shaving my hair. "Look at how long this hair is!"

She looks at me through the mirror as if she wants me to reply her, but I'm too lost in thought. Every now and then, I feel the urge to cry, but I don't. Unfortunately, my hands still tremble as the nurse tries to make small talk. I want to tell the nurse that small talk makes me uncomfortable, but my mouth won't just open and speak the words my brain has formed.

I've been in this hospital for about five hours. I remember when I finally woke up and the first thing I saw was the blurry image of a man approaching me. Straight away, I jumped up from my hospital bed and started screaming for help, thinking that I was about to relive last night.

"Hey, hey," he whispered, "stop screaming. I'm here to help you, okay?"

He got so close to me and attempted to place his warm hand on my shoulder, but I slapped it away before he could even get the chance.

"I said I'm here to help," he repeated. "See?" he held his stethoscope in the air and drew it close to my heaving chest. "I'm a doctor." And with that, I calmed down, giving him the opportunity to press the stethoscope against my chest. He gave me a warm smile after that, probably thinking that it would help me calm down.

It didn't.

The minute he placed his hand on my shoulder again, I jerked away with my hands trembling and my body shaking. He was looking so deep into my eyes that I didn't like it. It made my stomach twist and turn. He kept inching towards me, telling me to just stay calm so he and the other doctors could run series of medical tests on me, so they could stitch the deep cut on my scalp. The nearer he got, the more my stomach turned. The pain got to its climax and I couldn't hold it anymore. In the twinkling of an eye, all the food I had eaten the night before came speeding up my throat and with one grunt, gushed out of my mouth like a strong waterfall.

I heard the doctor refused to treat me after that, so they brought in a female doctor.

In a nutshell, the day is moving fast, and I want it to remain that way. Maybe if that happens, the great pain between my legs would disappear, and so would the pain in my heart along with memories of yesterday.

I feel so dirty that I wish it is possible for me to scrub at my insides with a tough iron sponge. I wish there's a machine that can suck out whatever that man released inside me.

"We're done!" The nurse informs, her lips drawn into a a big smile.

The temptation to ask her what she's smiling for nudges me but I swiftly ignore it. I don't say anything to the woman, rather, I study my reflection in the mirror.

There's not a strand of hair on my head, and even without Vaseline, the surface gleams under the light bulb. When I was younger, mother told me that hair is a woman's pride, and if she cuts all her hair, she is shameless, because a woman without hair looks shameful.