Seren's Story

I went to work, hiding my aching ribs. The first thing I did was to grab my ring from my locker and put it on. I’d left it for safe keeping.

“Seren,” The clerk approached me as I walked out of the staff lounge. “Some guy has been calling for you every night this week. Sounds British or Australian or something like that. I told him you were out sick, and he kind of sounded panicked. I think you aught to call him.” She looked at me for a moment. “Are you okay?”

I stood up straight and smiled forcedly, trying to put my façade back on. “I’m fine. Thanks Kerri.”

I moved slowly, but worked as hard as ever. Only a few people gave me odd looks when a wave of pain would make me gasp for breath.

“Seren, that guy is on the phone again.” Kerri approached me a few hours later.

“Could you transfer it to the lounge for me in a minute?” My heart jumped into my throat, not knowing what Chase would say. I almost felt nauseous.

In the lounge, I answered the phone. “This is Seren.” I said.

“Seren! I have been so worried about you!” I could hear his voice waver slightly.

“I’m okay.” I spoke slowly and quietly. “I miss you.” I felt the burning of tears again.

“I… I read the letter that you left in my bag and… I…” He paused. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Chase, I understand if you don’t…” I couldn’t bring myself to say it.

“Don’t say that, Seren! Don’t even think that! There is nothing that could ever happen, nothing that you could ever do to make me love you less!” He said firmly.

I would have been sobbing if it didn’t hurt so much. My heart swelled when he said that. He still loved me!

“You need to get out of there, Seren. I can’t let him do that to you anymore… Oh my God, why didn’t you tell me sooner?” I could hear him crying now.

“Chase, its okay… I’m okay for now...”

He cut me off. “No, Seren, it’s not okay!” He was almost yelling.

“Chase, calm down.” I said quietly, having to hold the phone an inch from my ear. Suddenly everything seemed a bit clearer. “I have two more months of school, and then I can take my boards and leave.”

“And you’re going to stay… Seren, no!” He begged.

One of my co-workers walked in and I changed the tone of the conversation. “Chase, I can’t talk about this now.” I discreetly dabbed at my eyes with a tissue. “I have to go. I love you, Chase.”

He understood. “I love you, too. I’m sending a package for you to work. I love you, Seren. Hang in there for me, okay. I love you.” I could still hear him crying.

Three days later, there was indeed a small fed ex package waiting for me at the triage desk. I opened it on my break and read the note that lay on top.

Dear Seren, my heart, my love,
I still don’t understand why you won’t leave, but when you’re ready, here’s a plane ticket to Sydney. You can call me reverse charge at any time before you leave or after you arrive. There’s also money for your passport and something to help you through any tough times. If things start getting bad, just remember that I love you more than I can express in words.
I Love You So Much!
Chase

I pulled out the plane ticket, the envelope with the money, and a locket which contained a picture that we’d had taken the day he proposed to me.

My life droned on. By Christmas I had started to feel sick. Certain smells would make me nauseous that hadn’t bothered me before, and I would get dizzy if I stood up too fast. I hadn’t been eating well, and I just felt completely worn out.

I sat in the staff lounge on a snowy Wednesday afternoon in mid March, sipping gingerly at my tea. I gently touched my split bottom lip to see if it was bleeding again. It wasn’t, it just hurt. The freezing weather didn’t make it feel any better, but that’s not what it was from. My father had been hitting me harder lately. I tried to convince myself that it was from the quickly approaching mating season, but I also knew, somewhere in the back of my mind, hidden in the buried parts of my common sense synapses, that it simply wasn’t true.

Nearly one month ago I had passed my state boards and was proud to be a licensed nurse in the ER. I felt I had really accomplished something and maybe; just maybe, someday I would be free again.

I rested my chin on the table and stared sideways at my coffee mug. No matter how hard I tried, no matter how much I wanted to hope, the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach would not subside. My life would never change. I just needed to accept it.

I held the locket that swung from my neck in my hand and thought of Chase. He’d called me last week at work to make sure I was still okay, and to find out when I would be leaving. I told him I was just waiting for my passport to arrive. I thought it would take forever. He told me that he worried about me, that he was scared for me, and offered to come stay with me until I could leave. I told him no. My passport should be back any day. I didn’t tell him that I thought I might be pregnant again.

My nausea had subsided, and I wasn’t quite as fatigued as I had been the past few months, but I hadn’t had a period since before Chase had come to visit. My father was more physical now, and when he did rape me, he used a condom. I suppose he realized that if I had the courage to tell anyone, that he wouldn’t leave any evidence. If I was pregnant, it had to be Chase’s. I smiled when I remembered that first night together four months ago.

I’d had the pregnancy test sitting in my purse for the past two days. I was too nervous to do it. Three weeks later, it still sat there waiting for me.

On the first Tuesday of April, I walked into work and checked my mail folder. My heart leapt and cheered when I opened the single envelope that lie in there, and out slid my passport! I let out a little laugh and tears welled in my eyes.

By that time, even without taking the test, there was no denying that I was pregnant. I still hadn’t told Chase. I hadn’t really told anybody. My father knew, I suspected, because he would take his belt to me frequently, but I hardly spoke to him anymore.

I posted a letter to Chase that afternoon telling him that the next flight to Sydney left on Saturday morning and that I would call him from the airport before I left. I didn’t think that the rest of the week could go fast enough.

Finally Friday came, and I sat on my bed very quietly, looking around my room. I felt my baby hiccup and gently rubbed my distended belly. I tried to think of what I should take with me. I heard my father and his friends belching downstairs. I knew he would call for me soon enough. The more I pondered my clothes, my shoes, everything that I had, I realized I didn’t want it. Instead I started to ponder how I would get out of the house. I estimated that my father would be passed out in the recliner by 1am. If I left at 3am, I would have time to stop by the hospital and pick up the ticket, my passport, my necklace and my ring from my locker. I curled up one last time under my thick comforter and slept for the last time in my bed.

“Shh…” A hand was clapped over my mouth and somebody crawled in bed with me. It wasn’t my father. “Your father wanted me to wait, but I need you, baby…” I recognized Gary’s voice. “I just need to put it in…” he paused as he straddled my hips and maneuvered me onto my back. “Ooh, pregnant again…” His voice had a sick hunger behind it. “That makes me so horny.” He pulled his penis up and started to rub it on my belly. “Oh yeah…” he moaned, his hand still covering my mouth. He let go of his penis, and still rubbing it, leaned in and placed his mouth over mine, thrusting his tongue in hard as he forced my hands together over my head and gripped them tight. A tear slid down my face as he inserted himself bare. He moved in and out slowly, enjoying himself, moaning quietly. He slid his knees under my thighs and sat up as he continued pushing, silencing me by holding my own hands over my mouth with one hand, caressing my pregnant stomach with the other. “Your father won’t let us do this anymore…” he whispered as I could tell he was about to peak. “You feel so good.” His face contorted and twisted wickedly as he ejaculated and slowly pulled out.

My insides felt like a brick, my stomach in knots, and my bladder about to burst. He pulled out, but kept me pinned down. “Not a word…”he whispered as he nibbled at my ear.

I nodded as well as I could, and he slowly released my hands and left the room. I lay still for maybe 20 minutes before I had the courage to look at the clock. 11.23pm, it read. Time seemed to creep by for the next couple of hours, and by 2am, I couldn’t stay anymore! I very quietly opened my bedroom door and listened before I stepped out. The house was quiet except for my father’s heavy breathing as he slept. The lights were all dark, and I tip-toed down the stairs, carefully avoiding the one that I knew to squeak. I slid myself silently along the wall towards the front door. His breathing quieted behind the wall that separated the front entryway from the living room. I relaxed and smiled as I put my hand on the front door and opened it oh so quietly. I was so close to freedom!

Without even realizing what hit me, I flew across the tiny room and hit the corner of the archway. I felt my ribs crack again where they’d healed months ago. I grabbed the side of my chest and gasped in pain.

“Where are you going?” My father’s voice snarled in the dark.

“W-work…” I stuttered. “I’m working a half shift tonight before my shift this morning.” I cringed at the searing pain that ate at my ribs.

I heard a brief ‘whoosh’ and felt the wrought iron fire poker impact my collarbone. “LIAR!” He screamed, dropping the fire poker and shoving the back of his hand across my head.

“I’m not lying!” I cried. “I have to work! They’re expecting me!” Tears streamed down my face. A porch light had come on at one of the houses across the street, and through the half-open door I saw our neighbor poke his head out, hearing the shouts.

My father pulled me up and grabbed my chin. “You better be home by 3pm or I will find you, and I swear to God, I will kill you!” With that, he shoved me out the door, slamming it behind me.

I almost wanted to let out a small cheer, but I knew better. So many things could happen between home and the airport. An hour later, I walked through the emergency room doors and rushed to my locker, fumbling with my things. I put on the necklace, and my engagement ring; I stuffed my passport and plane ticket in my shoulder bag as fast as I could, ignoring those around me.

I walked to the desk as fast as I could without seeming thoroughly panicked, and I called for a cab.

Standing out in the ambulance bay, smoking a cigarette, Dr. Wilson stopped me as I walked out. “Seren, you look like hell.”

I couldn’t speak for a moment. “I’m okay, just… just a bad night.” I tried to be discreet about favoring my arm and my ribs.

“How far along are you?” She asked, referring to my pregnancy.

“I’m… I don’t know.” I looked at the ground. “I think about 5 months… best I can tell.”

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” She was very subtle. “When’s your cab getting here?”

“Yes, I am leaving.” My heart leapt when I said the words. “Should be about five minutes.”

“Well, good luck.” She stomped out the last of her cigarette and turned to shake my hand. “I’m glad you’re getting out.”

I watched her walk back into the ER, wondering if she knew.

“Oh, yeah, Seren!” She turned around and walked back to me. “This is for you. It’s from everybody.” She slung a black duffel bag over my arm and gave me a gentle hug. “You should know how brave you are. We’ll miss you.”

I was astounded. Speech failed me, and I hugged her back as well as I could.

The cab arrived a few minutes later and took me to the airport.

First thing I did, after arranging the flight was to call Chase and let him know that I was coming. For the next two hours I sat in the terminal, waiting for boarding to begin.

I rummaged through the bag that Dr. Wilson had given me. There were a few medical supplies, an ace wrap, Tylenol, some pacifiers, baby blankets and teething rings. There were crossword puzzles, and a couple of lighthearted novels, some money, maternity clothes and a letter.

Dear Seren,
Your fiancé called a couple days ago and told us about the engagement, and that you’re going to go be with him in the land down under, and that you had nothing to bring. Using our own judgment and observations, we put this together to get you off to a good start. (He didn’t mention that you were pregnant, so nobody mentioned that to him.) It’s hard to imagine the ER without you… it’ll take some getting used to… but call or send a letter sometime and let us know how you’re doing. We all hope that you’re happier down there!

With Love,
The ER Staff

P.S. Seren, the ace wrap and Tylenol is from me. Take care of those ribs.
–Dr. C-

I went to the bathroom and actually got to see myself for the first time in ages. I’d looked in the bathroom mirror before, but never really noticed the bruised and cuts, or my sunken, sad eyes. All things considered, I didn’t look terribly bad. There was a darkening red bruise on my cheekbone where my father had struck me that morning, and a rather large bloody cut on my collarbone. I gently poked at it and gasped as a searing pain shot through it. I changed into one of the outfits that my co-workers had given me, and went back out to the gate area and fell asleep.

“Miss… Miss…” I opened my eyes to see a gate attendant gently shaking me. “First class is boarding now.”

“Okay.” I yawned. “But I’m in coach.”

“Oh, no, dearie. Your ticket is first class, come on.” She smiled warmly. “Are you sure you’re all right to fly, though, being so pregnant?”

“I’ll be fine.” I followed her, somewhat baffled as she led me to a seat in first class.

I slept through most of the flight, barely waking up for the stopover in Hawaii, or for meals.

I was roused by the change in the engines as we began to make our decent into Sydney. When the announcement came overhead, my heart filled with elation! I would be with Chase soon!

The disembarking process seemed to take forever, and I could feel the baby doing summersaults as I tried to be patient at the customs counter. The moment I walked out of the arrivals gate, I saw him running towards me. Tears were in his eyes as he threw his arms around me and cried into my hair. “I was so worried about you!”

I didn’t say anything; I couldn’t say anything because I was crying so hard. My heart finally felt whole and free. I just held onto him, stroking his hair as he stroked mine, and cried.

After several minutes, he finally pulled me back and looked at me. Without a word, he ran his thumb over the now blue mark near my left eye, and softly turned my head, looking for any other marks. He ran his hands softly down my neck, still searching, over my shoulders, and I gasped slightly when he barely touched my collarbone. He gently pulled the neckline of my top down an inch or so to see the cut. With every mark he found, I could see his eyes grow sadder and his face would fall.

Eventually his hands made their way down to my waist and stopped short, noticing the firm, distended belly. His eyes snapped up and met mine, filled with realization, hope, and possibly disbelief. I fidgeted a little bit and he nodded in understanding. He picked up my bags, took my hand and led me to a waiting car.

I sat next to him in the back seat of the chauffeured car, my head resting on his shoulder, his arm around me, rubbing my arm gently, and he finally asked. “Is it his?” I could hear the hurt, and at the same time hope, in his voice.

“No, Chase.” I said quietly, breathing slowly, my eyes closed. “It’s yours.”

His arm tightened around me a bit more. I could feel his heart jump, and I could feel him smile as he kissed the top of my head.