Freestyle with my ukulele. A story of child abuse.
She leaned forward on the edge of her seat. She felt the sweat drip down the back of her legs. She was nervous the seat would be wet when she stood. Then everyone would be able to see how the heat and hidden nerves were affecting her. Pretty, skinny girls aren’t suppose to sweat, at least that’s what society had told her. She tore her skin from the leather bench in the waiting room. She regretted wearing the shorts that had exposed the skin that stuck to the seat. Every moment only intensified the nerves and fear. The doctor stared at her with a disapproving smile as she slowly inched towards him. She knew the way the world looked at a girl who should look innocent, but covered it up with piercings, tattoos, and revealing clothes. The skin exposed that she’s supposed to be ashamed of. The doctor greeted her with a “this shouldn’t take long.” She hadn’t even considered it taking long. She didn’t know how long it took to see if you had an STD or as they say it, an unplanned pregnancy. She wasn’t sure what was wrong with her. Or.. What wasn’t wrong with her. She felt sick. All the time. Ever since he had touched her. Maybe it was all in her mind or maybe his “love” had infected her. The doctor lead her to an entirely white room or supposed-to-be white room. He quickly told her, “the nurse will be with you in a moment, get undressed.” She found herself shaking after hearing his words. Why is getting undressed so scary? She hardly had any clothes on anyways, but it frightened her. She felt exposed and vulnerable. She didn’t feel like her body was her own, but rather an object awaiting manipulation and examination. The nurse yanked the door open, making her jump. “I’m going to take some blood,” she said blandly.
Interested? I’ll add more to the story every couple of days!(: