Chapter 15 - Restless Dreams
March 10, 2008
The Summit, Galdren Bedroom - 9:00 am
Heather woke up with a start, she was naked and curled up against Jason's right side with her leg stretched across his legs as usual. Fear and pain had awoken her, and upon waking the pain in her stomach quickly began fading away leaving only the memory of phantom hands all over her body. Then there were also faces. Faces of black men she didn't know, a little older than her floating in front, behind her, or above of her. Telling her how sexy she was as they fucked her. Telling her how naughty and perverted she was, of what a slut she was, and how they were going to fuck her good and knock her up...
When she sat up, then pain, fear, humiliation and all of the faces and the names they called disappeared and she was left only with the memory of Amos. Of how he had held her, how he had bathed her, and how he had brought her home, and then there was her Daddy. Her beloved daddy, whom she loved so much and the father of her child...
"Huuaaaawk...Huaaaawwwwhhhh" Came the sound of puking from the bathroom.
Looking over Jason, she realized Charlene was missing. Hearing another, "Huaaawwwhhhh," she knew where and what her mother was doing, and it was making her feel like puking herself. Suddenly she felt...green! Her mouth started watering, and she knew...she better run!
Jumping up, she scrambled to the bathroom. Charlene was monopolizing the toilet, so she rushed to the bathtub just in time to retch loudly, and for the next ten minutes their mother daughter bonding was spent puking...
"Mom," She whispered hoarsely once her belly was somewhat settled enough that she braved getting up and stumbling to the sink to wash her hands, teeth, and mouth, "Mom, I need to go to urgent care or the emergency room."
"What? Why? What's wrong Honey," Charlene asked as she pushed herself up and flushed the toilet and turned on the shower before she came over to brush her teeth.
"I'm not sure," She answered, with a shaky voice, "but, I think I might have miscarried."
"What?" Charlene asked, her voice rising in concern, "Of course we will go to the ER first thing!"
She nodded, and they both worked together to clean up the shower before they both got in...
A half hour later, Charlene knocked on Donald's door. When he came to the door and opened it, his eyes locked on to hers and Heather's breasts, and didn't manage to look up to their eyes. She and Heather had quickly put on only tight running shorts that conformed to their hips and bottoms and white t-shirts that were only slightly small on them. It also didn't help that she and Heather both had the habit of pulling the front of the shirt under their breasts to help with sweating, but to any ignorant observer it only enhanced how large their breasts were. To complete their ensembles they wore socks with sneakers. Forgoing makeup and hair styling, Charlene braided Heather's hair while Heather had returned the favor. She didn't have time to wait on Donald to focus and quickly whispered, "Donald can you take us to a clinic or the ER?"
That got his attention and he looked up sharply, "Yes, of course," He answered and held out a finger for her to wait a minute while he went back into his room and dressed. Charlene heard him talking to Mildred, explaining what was happening, and when he returned he led them out and down to the car. It was only once they were in the car and on their way that he asked, "Is everything okay?"
"Heather is feeling ill," She answered discreetly, "She may have gotten too much sun yesterday, or eaten something contaminated, we're not sure, but she feels bad enough to ask to go to the ER."
"Oh," He answered simply and kept driving.
It was a long drive from the beach to the hospital, and once they arrived, it took an hour to be admitted, and it took another hour to be seen by the Doctor. When she finally made her appearance, Heather explained that she was pregnant and she was sexually active, and that she had spent almost the whole day in the sun, and then as she cast furtive glances at her mother, she decided to keep silent about being drugged and having sex with twenty-four guys.
Flashes of Joan raping her made her feel sick, and the shame and humiliation felt remarkably similar to how she felt now. In both instances she was incapacitated and the fucked mercilessly. 'Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me,' She thought bitterly. This was the second time she was raped in a year, and this time, it was her fault. She would have to live with that, but to hell if she was going to broadcast her shame for all to know and judge her by. She would live with this and survive just as she had before. Tears welled up, and ran down her cheeks while her heart dealt with the pain of her rape.
Outwardly, she wiped her tears away and explained that by the end of the day she felt very ill and passed out. That she had been taken to lay down, and when she awoke she puked several times and felt like she urinated herself. When she looked down there was blood. The Doctor listened to her whole story. Asked several pointed questions, and then called an Obstetrician. It took another hour before that Doctor arrived and they started running tests.
Following the Doctor out into the hallway when she left to call the Obstetrician, Charlene stopped her and asked in a whisper, "Excuse me, I'm not on any contraceptive, and I have been um...very sexually active lately. Is there any way I could get a plan-b pill?"
The Doctor gave her a deadpan stare as shelooked her up and down in blatant judgement, and Charlene was struck with the feeling that the woman knew every tawdry detail of her sexlife, of her contract, her prostitution, and everything she had done yesterday. The Doctor spent a long time taking in Charlene's outfit and stared blatantly at her breasts before finally looking up into Charlene's eyes, sighed as if exasperated, and answered, "Yes, we could give you a plan-b pill, but first we must admit you and administer a pregnancy test, and if you're pregnant then you will have to seek an abortion somewhere else."
"I don't want an abortion," Charlene retorted, firmly confident, "I'm not pregnant."
"When was your last period," The Doctor asked, her voice telegraphing that she was unconvinced.
Charlene blinked at the unexpected question, "My last period started on the fifteenth and ended on the eighteenth of February."
"Mmm-hmm," The Doctor hummed and nodded, "And how sexually active have you been since?"
Charlene felt shocked at how personal and antagonistic the Doctor was, but she answered anyway, "I have been sexually active everyday since."
