The Bet (Lesbian Story)

Chapter 7

{Manuel Cabral - André Bankoff}

Amy's POV

As soon as we entered the waiting room I felt my whole body shiver. I hated hospitals, I always have. The smell of cleaning products mixed with alcohol and medicine made me sick.
It's funny how I'd never felt like this in Vet clinics, maybe it was a psychological thing. I looked around observing the other people waiting in the room. A couple of scratches, colds and one broken arm for all I could see.

Nurses and doctors rushed in and out of the room as if their lives depended on that, always giving me the impression that something huge was going on on the other side of those walls. Manuel noticed my apprehension and gently patted my shoulder. I glared at him for making me come to this horrid place. My wounds weren't that bad compared to what I've had before.

I held the tiny little white paper that had the number 78 written on it. I looked up at the screen in the middle of the room that showed the number 67, we'd have to wait a long time until they called us.
I shook my head and sat down in one of the chairs that were placed in rows filling the room. I was careful enough not to let my bruised back touch the back of the chair, a while later Manuel came and sat by my side.

"You really should tell someone." He said in a low voice, I almost felt like smirking but I knew that'd be rude.

"I can't." I simply said. He breathed deeply.

"Why?" He insisted and I sighed.

"Look, if I tell someone the police would get involved, my father would be thrown into jail and that wouldn't be good, because he is often in debt with some real nasty people, and if he doesn't pay, I'll have too and I don't have the money. I don't even want to imagine what they'd do to me if I don't pay. If for a miracle they don't kill me I would probably fall into the system until I turn 18, the age in which they'd throw me out and I'd be all alone. Meanwhile, I would have lost my scholarship because the school I go to does not want a bad reputation, and having an abused child studying there definitely wouldn't be good for their image... If I tell someone, I'll loose everything." I said matter-of-factly and he stood there quiet, knowing I had a point.

"Still, it has to be a way to make him stop." I shook my head, I didn't want to talk about that.

I hated talking about my father. It hurt. I didn't love him. I was pretty sure of that, but still, he was my father. I always wondered how'd it be if we actually had a good relationship. I dreamed of things being different.

"I don't want to talk about it ok?" I said once I saw he was about to say something else. He stopped and we stayed in silence waiting for my number to be called.

As usual the minutes dragged by slowly as I watched people being called in and nurses rushing around. The whole time neither me or Manuel said a thing. Finally my number was called out. I got up and went to the small booth near the screen. A young receptionist with a bored look pointed me towards a door and said while looking at her phone.

"Room 112." Her voice was dragged and she didn't look at me the entire time. I just shrugged and walked to the door.

I ended up in a big hall with various doors numbered from 100 to 118.
I walked to the door that read 112 and knocked gently. Manuel was behind me the entire time but still hadn't said a word.

"Come in." I heard a woman's voice from behind the door. I looked at Manuel who gave me a reassuring smile before I got in.

The room was bright with a small hospital bed and a desk with a computer. Two chairs were placed in front of the desk and the doctor was sitting behind the desk. I took her in. She was beautiful, pretty young for a doctor. She had brown hair and deep green eyes. Her face was decorated with a warm smile.