She'd been imprisoned in every way. She couldn't even think to take a step out of place. She had disappeared into the furthest shadow of her mind to escape and conceded to the man who had ruined her.
Submission had been forced onto her until she...
Morning light pours in through the space in my drapes. I watch as the color turns from scarlet to gold. It's nice having a window, it gives me something to watch when my nausea is so fierce I can't move. It gives me stars to count when nightmares steal my rest.
As all things do, my nausea finally passes. The mornings have been coming easier the last few days. I don't feel quite so awful and laying still can ward off the sickness. Breuer can finally give me something other than broth and bread. I've managed to work up to oatmeal. Still, even the idea of coffee makes me sweat.
I swing my legs off over the bed and push to my feet. Straightening up I feel a terrible ache in my lower back. I place the heels of my palms into my skin and stretch hoping to crack away a poor night's rest. Even still it lingers. It resonates from deep under my flesh. The bones and tendons themselves whine at me. I sigh choosing to accept it, pain has practically become a friend.
I go to my wardrobe. It's full of gifts from Grimm, making me hate all the delicate fabrics. I wish I could have something of my own but, I suppose I chose my fate at that awful ball. I pick out one of the same few less extravagant gowns I cycle through. It makes me feel a twinge of satisfaction to not wear the ones he spent thousands on. It's the small revenge I take against him even though I know none of this meant anything to him.
I strip out of yesterday's clothes. They fall loosely off of me in a small heap. I've been gaining weight lately but, not enough to fill out any kind of clothing. Still, I'm happy for any I can manage, it's not easy with my newfound good sensitivities.
I pull on the new clothes. Satin hangs on jutting collarbones and jagged shoulders. The dark violet no longer looks garish. It no longer highlights fading bruises and a pallid complexion. The long fabric helps to cover what he did to me; I am grateful for it. If I had it my way I'd never look at it all again.
I pick up the discarded clothing to put in a basket and notice splotches of red in my undergarments. It's an odd thing to see. I haven't had my time since I came here. I smile knowing I'm finally regaining some health. My prevalent bones don't feel quite as such.
A knock sounds and the door opens behind me and I turn to see Breuer in the frame with a hand over his eyes.
"Are you decent?", He asks. I giggle at him surprising both of us. He takes away his hand and gives me his usual goofy grin. My heart swells a bit a the sight of him.
"What's got you in such a good mood?", he asks.
"It's nothing", I say, "but, do you think you could do me a favor?".
"Of course, what do you need?", He asks.
I feel my cheeks heat a bit as I ask, "do you think you could get me some feminine hygiene products?".
"Why do you need those?".
"I just started and I don't have any", I tell him. Immediately his playful demeanor drops.
"What do you mean you started?", I flinch a bit at the sudden change in tone. My happiness starts to wither.
"It's nothing", I whisper. He comes closer and puts his hands on my shoulders.
"No, it's not", he says, "what's going on". I look down at the clothes still in my arms. He follows my gaze to the blood-stained panties and curses.
"Sweetheart, I need you to tell me when this started", I hear his words the way I would from the bottom of a pool. He looks down at me as I'm settling beneath the waves watching the dancing fragments of light and reality as it drifts farther away.
"Come on sweetheart", he pleads. What does it matter? Of all the blood I've bled what's a few more drops?
He pulls me up into his arms and runs from the room. I watch as the lighting changes from the warmth of the golden sun to the harshness of the infirmary. Men in white poke and prod and I watch them do it. I stand beside them and watch my useless body laying on the table. They spread something cold over my stomach but, I hardly notice.
Breuer paces the room worriedly cursing. Occasionally he comes to hold my hand or look at the colorless monitor next to me. The picture changes slightly as the man prods other areas. None of this means anything to me.
Only one thing manages to slip through my cracks. Bile burns my throat threatening to spill out and I shake like I never have before. Awful words I'd never wanted to hear, never like this.
"Congratulations, it's a girl".
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