| Broken
Is there really such a thing as whole? Evanelise Pool thought.
It was difficult to get up the next morning. Muscles she hadn't known she had ached. She winced as she moved her thighs. The hospital bed was a bit too firm and it hurt to lie down on her raw, red back peeking through the back of her hospital gown. She peeked around the room, confused. When had she gotten here and…what happened, exactly, for her to end up here?
It was surprisingly quiet here. Eva had always anticipated hospitals to be noisy and loud, with rushing feet and hushed whispers and pagers and phones beeping and babies crying and shouting. But there was only an occasional sound outside her door, usually consisting of hushed, slippered feet on the cold linoleum and soft whispered words.
She could see the silhouette of her mother behind the frosted glass window in her door. Her hair was pulled back in a severe ponytail, her nose long and beaky and sticking out as she nodded her head curtly to the doctor. Dr. Graham's voice was smooth and cool, as a doctor's should be.
“She'll be sore for a few weeks but...to be honest, I'm more concerned with her mental health. Victims of—”
“Evangeline is fine. She's a strong girl,” Carla interrupted rudely.
“Evanelise, Mrs. Pool.”
“Ms.”
“Ms. Pool, then.” The doctor's voice was still smooth but far cooler than before, near icy from Eva's mother's unconcerned nature. Eva's mouth curled up in an awkward smile. She realized she could only lift one corner of her mouth and even that was painful as hell.
“So, how long till I can get her home?” The tone in her voice made it clear that Carla just wanted to get home herself.
“She’ll have to stay here for another week. We have to run tests, make sure she didn’t get…infected with anything. She broke quite a few bones, Ms. Pool. And there are…even more complications.”
What were they talking about?
“What kind of complications?” her mother growled.
“We need to be sure she isn’t pregnant,” Dr. Graham said.
Pregnant?
Pregnant…pregnant…pregnant.
The word whispered in her mind. Pregnant? Me, pregnant? Pregnant! A baby, inside me. A baby? A baby! For god’s sakes, pregnant!
Her hands pressed against her stomach. Flat, smooth…in pain from bruises, but no bumps, no extra heartbeat or kicking, nothing. Of course, if she was pregnant, of course she wouldn’t be showing signs yet! But…pregnant?
And how? How did…
Memories rushing, rushing, rushing back into her skull, pressing thickly against her brain, hard and harsh. Eva cried out and buried her face in her hands and began to sob.
Raped, she thought, tears glittering on her lashes. I was raped.
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