Inhaling the smell of chlorine, she turned her head from the window to be faced with an overwhelming scent of latex and cleaning chemicals, in response, Abhira tapped her fingers on the armrest beside her and jiggled her right knee that led across her left.
She didn't fit in here. She'd never fit in here.
She wasn't clean, she'd never be clean.
She'd always be what she'd always been; a dirty little secret.
Though it made little sense, she felt so much more bare in a Doctor's waiting room than she did on the streets with bruises and welts as the only covering of her body.
Eyes never lied and that's why hers hadn't met anyone else's. If they saw within what she tried to keep from escaping out, she'd never live it down, she'd never be welcomed here when it was so clear she did not belong.
It was a death sentence if anyone found out where she came from, what she did and what she'd do when she walked out the door.
Shame would still her joints, marr her skin and rip away anything she had left of dignity. It would sour her name on tongues that were forced into her mouth and sour those speaking insults that disgusted her just the same.
"Miss Sharma" a kind voice snapped her from her haze. "Your results are ready if you'd just like to follow me" a gentle hand guided her from behind.
Her stick clattered noisily around her as she figured her way around the desk and into a separate room.
"Would you like to sit?"
She shook her head in the negative, she wasn't one to get too comfortable, it allowed for relaxation and the cost of relaxation was unpreparedness- that, she could not afford.
"Okay" the voice seemed more distant now. A shuffle then it seemed like she had sat down herself. "Miss Sharma, are you sexually active?"
Abhira blanched. A thick weight bobbed in her throat at the notion. "Suppose" she kept her eyes downcast, her voice only a whisper.
"Fortunately, your results have come back clear, no STD's, no pregnancy".
The relief encapsulates her form, allowing it to ease just a little of the tightness.
"But you won't always be this lucky" her voice is still kind, but the warning is clear. "You have to use protection, to protect yourself".
She scoffs at that. As if she could ever protect herself, as if she could ever have a choice in what happens to her.
Before she could respond, a loud knock bounds on the door, sharp and unrelenting, much like the feeling in her gut ever since she'd arrived here.
"Nurse" a warm, honey like voice speaks.
Masculine, she denotes.
"I need to speak to your patient" his voice is husky, a baritone that soothes though his words do anything but.
Wetting her lips, Abhira turns slowly, all fearless and brave as she feels the heat of the man's gaze upon her. "What can I do to help you..." she leads off waiting for him to fill in the gap.
He doesn't.
Surprise, surprise.
Armaan eyes her carefully. She stands with an air of unease, her smile tight and her eyes downcast. "Your name?"
She shrugs. He wouldn't be able to find out without a warrant and she isn't stupid enough to give him a reason to get one.
He laughs dryly. "That how we're playing, huh?"
YOU ARE READING
VII
Fanfiction*VII* is a gripping and emotionally charged story about survival, betrayal, and the blurred lines between justice and exploitation. At its heart is Abhira, a woman whose life has been consumed by violence since the murder of her mother when she was...
