Page 47 of Depraved Boys

“We removed mud and raw pork ribs from your rectum and vagina.”

Every ounce of blood drained from my face, and I clapped my hand over my mouth. “What?”

“It’s not the first time we’ve found a girl in this state,” the consultant said.

“Who was the other girl?”

“I’m afraid that information is confidential.”

Silence stretched out, and I didn’t dare to raise my head. Salmonella, listeria, staphylococcus, enterococcus, yersinia… I shook my head. Roundworm, tapeworm, the list of hazards from uncooked pork whirled around my mind. Tears gathered in my eyes, blurring my vision.

How could the girls hate me enough to stuff raw meat in the most intimate of places?

Ashley must have been there while they had done it. Had she stood aside, watching impassively the way she did whenever someone insulted me, or had she laughed as she had done when the queens told them Sebastian had played the pull-a-pig game?

I blinked, and two fat tears splattered on the hospital sheet.

“What can you tell us about last night?” asked one of the younger doctors. “Did you ingest anything else?”

I shook my head. “They held me down, pinched my nose, and clamped a hand over my mouth until I passed out. That’s when they must have forced alcohol down my throat. Someone made a joke about foie gras, so they must have used a funnel.”

“They?”

“The girls from my academy.” I raised my head and stared at the wall behind the doctors. “They brought me to an initiation ceremony.”

“You volunteered for this?” asked the Geraldine lookalike.

The consultant gave her a sharp glare. Probably for judging me for my predicament.

“My sister wanted to join the girls. But they dragged me out of bed and brought me along to test whether she would pick them or me.”

The consultant pursed her lips. “Regardless of whether a man or a woman conducted the attack, it’s still sexual assault, which you have the option to report.”

“Do you consent to a forensic medical examination?” asked the doctor on the right.

I inhaled a sharp breath through my nostrils and blinked back my surprise. Right now, my thoughts were so jumbled, I couldn’t think straight.

An ache struck my heart. At times like this, when someone’s comments or actions had caused me pain, Mom would give me a warm hug and tell me that their words and actions reflected on themselves. That happy, balanced people didn’t go around hurting others.

My shoulders curled, and I dipped my head. I wished she was here.

“Willow?”

I exhaled. “If I have the examination, will everybody know?”

“That’s entirely your decision. But we recommend you have the exam within seven days, as it can provide vital evidence if you decide to press charges, and the case goes to court.”

“There’s no pressure,” added the consultant. “You have seven days, but given what was put inside you, I would advise you to proceed straight away.”

I stared up at the trio of doctors, my jaw slackening. “I’m still stuffed with pork ribs?”

“We removed as much of the raw meat as we could to prevent an infection,” said the consultant. “If we removed everything else, there might not be enough evidence to prosecute.”

My lungs tightened, and I forced breaths in and out of my nostrils. My intimate parts were still riddled with mud and raw meat. Was this even standard medical practice? Or were they freaking out because they couldn’t handle a case like mine?

“Why didn’t you conduct this forensic exam while I was unconscious?” I rasped.

“I’m sorry,” said the consultant. “We couldn’t proceed without your consent. You don’t have to involve the police at any stage. The evidence will be stored until you make up your mind.”