thump.
thump.
thump.it's loud.
clear.
apparent.a heartbeat.
its heart is beating.
it beats rapidly.carelessly.
free.
alive.my heart lunges.
my chest tightens.
my body trembles.it's real, it's here.
a beating heart.
i look at my mom.i can't bear to look.
this thing inside me,
it shouldn't be here.the obgyn gazes at mom.
"would you like me to
print the sonograms?""no, thank you."
she says with a huff.
lingered with distaste."are you sure? it
won't cost anything."
a worried expression grows."i said no. we
don't need anything."
mom closes her eyes."okay, then that's it
for today. i'll see you
guys in a couple weeks."mom turns to me.
clenched jaw.
red face.the anger is present.
it's never going away.
like a heavy wave crashing down.if looks could kill, i would
have been dead days ago.
she signs, rubbing her temple."make sure to check
with the receptionist. we have
information about other options."the nurse looks at me.
she really looks at me.
she is covered with pity.a soft smile appears.
nodding her head.
"well, congrats margo."i pull my shirt down.
embarrassed by the skin.
another eight months of this.i gaze at my feet.
feeling the shame.
it suffocates me.i had hope.
this was only a dream
i would wake soon.this shouldn't be how a
sixteen year old girl spends
her last year of school.this shouldn't be how all
my dreams are shattered
before they've even started.this shouldn't be how i spend
the rest of my life with a
reminder of the day i shattered.but oh, how a broken girl can dream.
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YOU ARE READING
The Thorns of a Rose
General Fictionin which a victim is learning to cope with the aftermath of her assault. |▪︎✧ 3rd place in the ink awards ✧▪︎|