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My eyes snap open, and I struggle to make sense of my surroundings. The room is a sterile, cold cream color that sends chills down my spine. With each movement, pain lances through my body, causing me to cry out in agony.
A doctor bursts into the room, his face a mask of concern. “My name is Doctor Brevin,” he announces. “You were brought in as a Jane Doe. You're lucky to be alive.”
I grit my teeth and force myself to sit up despite the searing pain. “Give it to me straight, Dr. Brevin. I’m studying to be a doctor. I can handle it.”
His brows furrow in disbelief. “Very well then.” He takes a deep breath before delivering his diagnosis.
“You have multiple contusions, anal tearing, and a knife wound on your abdomen that required emergency surgery and resulted in significant blood loss,” he says grimly.
I try to process the information, but before I can say anything, he drops the bombshell. "Unfortunately, we couldn't save the baby."
My heart shatters into a million pieces at his words. I fight back tears and force myself to maintain a composed expression.
"Due to the excessive blood loss," he adds with a sympathetic frown.
A hollow ache settles in my chest as I try to process his words. “I understand,” I say hoarsely, forcing a fake smile onto my trembling lips.
Physically, I may appear calm and collected. However, on the inside, my mind is racing. I had planned to obtain the morning-after pill but failed to follow through due to being consumed by my studies. If I had taken a pregnancy test and found out I was pregnant, I would’ve chosen to keep my child.
A fire burns inside of me, fueled by anger and pain.
That crazy bitch killed my baby. After Dr. Brevin tells me about the morphine pain drip, he leaves the room.
I’m left alone with my thoughts, feeling a deep sense of emptiness and despair.
Deep down, I am consumed with grief and anger at the loss of my child.
My throat feels raw and scratchy as I reach for the pink container of water on the bedside table. But then my eyes fall upon a letter hidden underneath it. With trembling hands, I open it and read the words over and over again.
Dear Kinsley,
It's time to start anew at Yale. Your tuition has been paid for.
Pursue your dream of becoming a doctor and leave this all behind you.
Signed,
A fresh start.
