Daddy's Precious Little Girl

New School

Ashlynn's POV

The next week passed in a blur. I was released from the hospital and taken to a large, unfamiliar building. Mr. Alex and Mrs. Emma stayed with me the entire time, making sure I wasn't alone. The first person we met was a tall woman with bright pink hair that instantly caught my eye. I liked her. There was something warm about her presence. She introduced herself as Amelia, but quickly added that I could call her Mia. I appreciated that—it felt less formal, more approachable. Mia asked me a lot of questions, though some of them made me sad, especially the ones about my mother. She was gentle, though, and told me I didn't have to answer if I didn't want to. I answered what I could, but left some things unsaid. Then she asked about my likes—things I enjoyed doing—but I couldn't respond to most of them. I didn't know what I liked. No one had ever given me the chance to choose before.

After the questions, Mia led me into another room. This one felt strange, unfamiliar, with a tall, narrow table against the wall. It kind of looked like a couch, but without arms, and on one end, there was a roll of paper hanging off. Mia calmly pulled the paper over the table and told me to hop on. I hesitated but did as she said, feeling the stiff, uncomfortable cushion beneath the paper. I didn't like it. The room was cold, and the silence made it feel even colder. I sat there waiting, my legs dangling, and shivered as the air felt like it was getting sharper. The door creaked open, and I jumped, but it was only Mrs. Emma and Mr. Alex. I felt a little better until another person entered behind them. He was tall—maybe not quite as tall as Mr. Alex, but still towering above me, even while I sat on the high table. He gave me a friendly smile, but something about his size made me instinctively shrink back. Mrs. Emma gently placed her hand on my knee, reassuring me, but I still felt a knot of nervousness growing in my chest.

"It's okay, Ashlynn. This is Dr. Abrams. He's here to make sure you're all ready for school," Mrs. Emma explained, her voice soft and reassuring as she rubbed my back. I trusted her and Mr. Alex, but as soon as the doctor started speaking, my body tensed. His questions felt like too much, and I couldn't answer. Every word stuck in my throat. Mrs. Emma, sensing my unease, stepped in, answering for me with calm efficiency. When it was time for the examination, she stayed close, sitting right next to me.

Dr. Abrams didn't do much, but it felt like everything. He looked into my eyes with a bright light that made me squint, checked my ears, and then pulled out this cold metal thing he pressed against my chest and back. It was attached to his ears, and every time it touched my skin, I shivered. My breaths came faster, each one harder to control, but Mrs. Emma held my hand tightly, grounding me. She was a safe place in the middle of the discomfort. Thankfully, the exam was over quickly, but it had still felt like forever.

"Okay, Miss Ashlynn, all done with that. You were so brave," Dr. Abrams said with a warm smile. I managed a small grin in response, feeling a little proud despite the nerves. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all. But then, his next words hit me like a ton of bricks. "Okay, I'm going to send in the nurse to get some blood work and administer the classification shot."

Wait—shot? I felt all the air rush out of me, and my stomach twisted. No, I was definitely wrong. He was bad. My body started trembling, fear wrapping around me like a cold blanket. "No, shot," I whispered desperately to Mrs. Emma, hoping she could stop it. Her face softened with a sad, knowing look before she turned to Mr. Alex.

"It's okay, Ashlynn," Mr. Alex reassured me, his voice steady as he sat beside me. "You need the shot to tell your body it's okay to show us your classification." He reached out, and I wanted to trust him, but the fear was too big, too loud.

I was still shaking when the door opened again. This time, a stern-looking older woman walked in. She wasn't tall, but there was something about her that made me feel like she wasn't here to play around. Before I could fully process what was happening, Mr. Alex gently but firmly held my arm in place, and the old lady moved quickly. The long needle she carried pierced my skin before I had a chance to stop it. I screamed, panic bubbling up as I tried to yank my arm free, but Mr. Alex's grip was strong. I couldn't escape.