The tied knots around my wrist have frayed. Abused relentlessly, counting and counting. It doesn't help anymore, nothing does. The smell of rubbing alcohol is always so pungent in a clinic, it assaults my nose as I step through the door of the hospital. With only, Kat and, Ava along with me I step uneasily to the front desk.
"Chloe Thomas, I'm here. . ." I begin to tell the high pitched woman behind the computer.
"We've been expecting you." She smiles too wide, with a mousy voice, "Just have a seat and you'll be called shortly."
The woman goes back to the busy phone, pressing it between her shoulder and ear. I take her direction as a New York goodbye and turn to look at my seating options. The waiting area is riddled with crying babies, homeless people, and pregnant teens.
"By the window looks promising." Kat points to a corner that hosts three vancant chairs. Hard gray plastic, and uninviting. Nonetheless we sit, with our hand bags safely in our laps, keeping a watching eye on the waiting room guests. Kat takes my sweaty hand, and Ava copies soon after.
"You'd think they'd have a decent selection of magazines." Kat complains, flipping through a three year old tabloid. "I mean, how do they even still have this issue? This story is so old, her kid's a toddler now!" She points to a bulging belly belonging to an actress.
Ava clears her throat, warning Kat with widened eyes to shut up. Everyone walks on egg shells around me now. Paying extra attention to their words.

"It's okay, Ava. Really." I look to the small bump under my jacket. "I'm not ready to talk about it, but it's like an elephant is in the room lately." Ava hugs me tight with one arm around my shoulders, then rests her head gently against mine. Kat follows, wrapping me in a cocoon of well wishes. We fall out of the impromptu group hug sniffling, and forcing smiles.

"Ms. Thomas." An exhausted nurse with orange red curls calls from a scuffed swinging door.
We stand at once, hoisting our purses in unison.
"Only, Ms. Thomas." The nurse groans.
Stopping mid step, and ready to panic. I shoot worried eyes to my friends. Kat grabs my arms with a soft grasp.
"You'll be fine. It'll be over before you know it." She assures me. I want to believe her.

I walk away from my friends with nervous footing, and fidgeting hands. I glance back one more time to see, Ava and, Kat with their thumbs in the air before the door closes between us. I follow the nurse down the cold halls, and passing closed door rooms until she leads me to a room with two hospital beds separated by curtains. Thankfully the other bed is empty. I stand with my arms folded, staring at a large box that reads Rape Kit.
"This is pointless." I breathe, "There's no. . .Fluids left." The words taste awful. The nurse acts as if she doesn't hear me, retrieving the many items from the rape kit box.
"I need you to remove your clothes, and put this on." She holds out a blue hospital gown to me.
I take the gown from her gloved hand, and begin to strip.

I wince as I raise my arms to remove my shirt, and lower my jeans. I fold, Zens jacket with patience and place it in a corner along with my clothes and shoes.
"Socks too." She states without looking away from a huge lense camera.
I pull my socks off and toss them aside, wearing nothing but a gown that I can't close.
We'll do the photos first so go ahead and just remove the gown also. You can put it on as soon as we're done."

At the sight of my trembling, watery eyes, and beaten body the fussy nurse eases her tone. The gown falls to the floor like ribbon around my feet. My body jerks in defense as bright lights flash into my face, and all around me.

"Can you hold your arms out like a bird?"
I spread my arms wide, praying to grow wings and fly away. Tears begin to spill from my chin and down my bruised neck with each camera flash. I close my eyes, imagining what this woman must possibly think, while she zooms in on, Averys perfect set of teeth marks on my hip. Red, scabbed and swollen; she snaps photo after photo of the whip lashes across my back, the yellowing hand print around my throat. I want it to stop.

"Is it over?" I ask.
"I'm afraid not, I need you to lie on the bed now." She sits on a rolling stool, pulling stirrups from the foot of the bed. "You can put the gown on now, but I need you to put your feet in these, and bring your bottom to the edge as far as you can."
I hurry to put the too big gown on, the paper on the bed makes a scratching sound while I place the heels of my feet in the stirrups. I slide down with my bottom half completely exposed.

Something icey assaults me all over again. I press my eyes shut, "Please hurry!" I cry through gritted teeth. The nurses brows furrow. With a swift flick, something sends a needle sharp pain into me, and then it's gone. I wimper like a pathetic child, holding my hands over my face. The nurses hands are cold as the back of her hand brushes against my skin. She raises the gown to my waist, and pulls a rolling monitor closer to the exam bed.
"Your pregnant? It says here that you're pregnant." She flips pages over from a file in her hand.
"Yes." I nod. She puts the folder back on a counter that houses a single sink, plain white cabinets, and transparent cannisters containing cotton swabs, and tonger surpressors.

"This is going to be cold." She warns before squirting a half warmed goo under my belly button. She punches buttons on a machine, while massaging a hand held instrument into my skin, spreading to goo. I forcefully stare at square ceiling tiles, not allowing myself to peek at the screen. I can't look at it. Seeing it would make it real.
"There you are." The nurse whispers. A pulsing tone blares from tiny speakers on the machine.
"What's that sound?" I squeeze my eyes closed.
"That's the heartbeat." She bops more buttons.

My eyes burst wide, the table-like bed shakes while I pull myself to sit up. I glance to the screen. There it is. Like a bean surrounded by a black void, a baby. No limbs have formed, no features have grown on its face, but it's a baby. A real baby. . .With a heartbeat. My lungs seem to seize and refuse to work. I fall on my back, I can't breathe.

"Okay, honey." The nurse tries to calm me, helping me sit back up by holding my hand. I rise in vampire-from-a coffin-fashion. Stiff and on a razors edge, my body shakes. I pull my hand away attempting to coil away from the woman who just violated me, but she refuses to let go. Instead she holds my hand firm and tugs toward her with a warm smile smeared on her lips under watery eyes.

"I am so sorry." She pats my hand. Now that I'm cose enough to really see her, I notice she's much older than I had thought. Wrinkles sink deeply around her hooded eyes, although her smile is pretty her teeth have began to yellow with age. The hands that encase mine show signs of age spots, and webbed veins.

"I've done this more times than I'd like to count. It's always so hard, but there's something about you." She goes on, "Your wounds have started to heal, but I know how they probably looked when they were fresh. The extent of your injuries is heart breaking. I, like everyone else in the city has seen the news. Knows what's going on. There've been a lot of girls come into this room, claiming to have been raped by a rich man to get his money. But I want you to know that I believe you."

The nurse, I now know is called Sharon by the laminated badge that hangs from her pale blue scrubs, believes me. She leaves me without words, without expression. Just a blank mannequin-like stare at her weaving badge. I want to speak, I want to hug her, but the rape kit has left me numb. I weakly pull my head to eye level, and manage a smile: a miniature turn of the mouth before a burst of air passes my lips. Sharon, a stranger, wraps her arms around me. I soak her shoulder while she pats my now tangled hair. She shushes me, and reminds me of my grandmother.

She gives me a final farewell with a smile, and a nod at my clothes on the floor before leaving me to dress. Her encouraging words, they've lifted me like a string pulling me from the top of my head to stand a little taller.

I leave the clinic with my friends and a new found confidence. Ava and, Kat go on about how ugly a trial could be in the cab ride back to campus. My scars are deep and ugly. They make you want to either turn away in disgust, or stare like I'm a train wreck. It took a matter of minutes to convince a complete stranger of the truth.
"I can do it." I interrupt their chatter, gazing at the passing street signs from the breath fogged car window. I turn my attention to their shocked faces.
"I can handle the trial. I can't let him get away with this." I look to, Ava, "You shouldn't either."
Avas face falls to her lap, "I just can't, Chloe." She whispers, eyeing the cabby to see if he's listening in. "What happend to us...It's. . .Unthinkable. I haven't slept through the night in over a year. If I come forward now. . .I live alone, Chloe. He'll kill me."

Kat sits like a the monkey in the middle, her thin hair barely brushes her chin but in this moment it covers her eyes. She rubs her thumbs across each other. The taxi makes its stop in front of Lavas as directed, and we slide out to the sidewalk, and rush into the coffee house to beat the cold.

The bell above the door jingles to alert Jack a costumer has entered, but Jack doesn't hear it. I could crawl under a rock and die a horrible, painful death and it still wouldn't be as brutal as the glaring herd of loyal, Avery followers staring me down. A quick silence washes over the crowd. We stand barely into the coffee house door, frozen. Kat gulps beside me, and as sudden as the quiet came, it went. I follow closely to, Kats hand holding mine as a guard and guide into the twisting faces. Glass clinking into glass, giggles, and whispers sound from the pack of Omega Brothers and pledges while we breeze by to a secluded booth away from the stares.
"Whore!" A purposely husky voice says from the thick of the Brothers. A bellow of laughter begins from the center and erupts like fire within them. My friends squeeze in tighter creating a huddle of protection around me.

An Omega I recognize but can't name throws a rolled ball of paper at me. It lands into my head with no force or weight, but the action carries more mass than I can handle. I whoosh my head around and stand firm, locking eyes with him, and burn into them.
"Have you any idea what he done to me!?" My voice is as sharp as icey wind, my fists clench in balls at my sides. "You call me a whore? I was a virgin." My tone turns more harsh as I step slowly in the direction of the ball throwing Brother.
"He raped me." I hiss, I now have the attention of the room. Not a single sound falls behind my voice. The faces of the Omega Brothers vary. Most can't remove their smirk and utter amusement at my breaking point. But a few, their faces tell another story.

I scan the room, searching for a face I've seen before. I find a girl covering her mouth, looking back and forth between myself and a now standing team of Omegas.

Ava pulls at my arm, "Let's just go, Chloe. Come on." She says pulling me away. I look to the bar to find, Jack but he's not here. I search the room for his face, looking past the pack of Brothers. Jack slams the kitchen door and walks to the center of the room. His jaw muscles contract behind his skin, he chargers to the bullying Brother with his nostrels flared above pressed line lips.
"Get. Out. Now." Jack growls just inches from the guys face. The Brothers teeth flash whitest white while he nudges, and scoffs at a pledge.
"Defending the whore?" He leans into, Jacks face with more arrogance than his beloved leader, Avery. "She's a nobody, Jacky." He laughs, "She probably tricked my boy into screwing her so she could get pregnant. It's probably not even his!" He yell's to the crowd.

The crushing thud of, Jacks raging fist makes the sweetest sound as it crashes like a ton of bricks into the guys nose. He falls to the ground in a daze, the impact of, Jacks punch causes the pack to take a few steps back. Maybe it's the hate filled look in his eyes, or their missing leader; but fear falls on the crowd.
"Zack, get up. Kick his ass!" An unseen voice yells out. Zack, sits up, propping himself on an elbow. He wipes at his nose, and pulls his hand back bloody and wet.

Jack towers above a bleeding, Zack. Willing him to stand and take another blow. Zack stands, his nose crooks to the left obviously broken, and trickling blood around his mouth. Despite the pain he smiles, steps to, Jack, "You'll pay for this." He spits.
"You know where to find me, tough guy." Jack warns standing his ground.

The Omegas file out of the coffee house like a bunch of swollen red faced beasts. I stride to, Jack. "Thank you." I squeeze his arm from behind. I watch his shoulders release their tension as he turns to face me. "Anytime." He smiles and begins to lead me to the kitchen. Kat, and, Ava follow closely behind.

"I wish you could stay." Jack sighs as we enter the back room, "I'm sorry this is happening to you. You think you know someone." He trails off, caressing his fingertips along the raised lines of my painting. His fingers trail along the rising and falling waves while the three of us stare at his obsession.

"Wait..." Ava takes a step toward the canvas, "This is yours?" She asks over her shoulder, walking to the painting.
"Yeah." I sigh sitting on the edge of, Jacks couch, "It was my scholarship piece. I can't seem to paint anything anymore." My palms sweat watching other people look over my work. It fills me with an nerving paranoia that they'll notice every flaw.
"It's amazing." Kat whispers. The television light behind the paint makes the water dance, the sails seem to ruffle in the wind. I suddenly envy the passengers of the ship while they sail off into the sunset, leaving their problems behind them.

Lost in thought and daydreaming my hands find their way to my belly. I've always had a tiny frame; lean legs after years of riding bikes with, Zen, toned arms, with little fat on its mass. My mid-section has begun to lose its flat surface. A cupped handful sized lump buldges from my naval. I hold the bump in my hand, Who are you, kid? I wonder.