Chapter 1: Girl You'll Be a Woman Soon

Amelia Jones was restlessly leafing through a magazine from about three weeks ago, not at all taking the time to read what it was about, haphazardly peering over the top every time a noise reached her ears. There were three other women present, two sisters (lovers? Mother and daughter?) and a middle-aged lady accompanied by a very sleepy husband. Their dimly-lit faces only read boredom; they had been here before. This was only a routine check-up. Most likely nothing to worry about. They would probably be having coffee and cake afterwards.

Amelia nervously squirmed about in her chair, unconsciously squeezing her thighs tightly together. She had never really liked going to the hospital. Well, technically this wasn't a hospital, but it still felt like one. Ugly greenish walls, posters about health care, a nurse typing away on her computer behind the counter. A clock ticking away the last few minutes of female dignity—after today, everything would be different.

Nonsense, she chastised herself, determined frown pulling down her brow. Don't be a baby about this, Ames! Every woman goes to the gynaecologist at least once in her life. It's not a big deal!

At least she knew this one was a woman herself. Amelia would die of shame if she had to spread her legs in front of a man. Feel his prying eyes upon her. Into her.

A shudder travelled down her spine, and the girl brought down the magazine (21 Ways to Improve Your Garden!) to protectively cover up her jeans-clad crotch. She never should have come here. It had all been her aunt's idea. "You're a woman now, Mellie," shortly after her twenty-first birthday. "You should at least get yourself checked. Just to make sure everything's working like it's supposed to." Exactly the birthday gift every girl dreamt of, especially coming from their auntie-dearest!

Of course, stubborn as she was, Amelia had refused to let the woman accompany her. She was named after Amelia Earhart, one of the bravest women to ever have existed. She wasn't going to let a measly visit to the gynaecologist frighten her! (Nor was she going to face the shame of her aunt finding out every little intimate detail about her, hence the prohibition of her being here to support her beloved niece.) No, she could do this!

"Amelia Jones?"

The blonde made a weird squawking noise of surprise, head snapping up to look at the nurse who had spoken her name, magazine all but crumbling in her grip. "Y-yes?" she asked softly, scraping her throat before trying again. "That's me."

The nurse nodded and gave a gentle smile, pointing her pen at the now opened door to her right. "You may go in now."

Oh. It was her turn. Already?

Putting the magazine aside and nervously rising from her chair, Amelia gripped her jacket tighter in her arms and swallowed, nodding. Her legs felt wooden as she forced them to bring her to that opened door, not yet revealing the office that lay beyond. None of the other patients spared her a single glance—she wouldn't be getting any support from them. They were strangers, and had nothing to do with her fate. Amelia was alone in this.

With beating heart she reached out, steadying her hand before placing it firmly against the flat of the door. The girl pushed the obstacle out of her way, quickly stepping in and closing it behind her in one single movement. Turned towards the door, Amelia swallowed a final time, breathed in, and put on a big smile before whirling around to face the doctor.

The first thing she noticed about the woman was her hair. It was unlike any colour she had ever seen. Ashen blonde with an almost pure silver hue, certain to light up in a moonlit lake, as if she had stepped straight out of a snowy fairy tale of some sorts. It was also very long; bound together in a ponytail on her back at the moment, but swiftly disappearing out of sight behind, making Amelia believe it could touch the ground. Amelia unconsciously reached back to her own knot, quickly put together to make herself look older, more experienced. The blonde had also considered putting on her old glasses, but one: she hadn't needed them in centuries, and two: certainly she would have made a fool of herself had anyone noticed the lenses were missing.

The woman was writing something down with elegant well-manicured hands, her good hand-hygiene somehow putting Amelia at ease for at least one moment. After all, a gynaecologist who didn't have dirty hands was a thousand times better than one who had their hands covered in grease and oil. (Not that she knew of any doctors who ever had their hands bathing in such substances.)

Amelia remained standing at the door, like a frightened little chickadee, playing with her jacket as she contemplated what to do. Speak up and disrupt the woman's concentration? Simply sit down and wait? Start singing an aria from West Side Story? Okay, maybe not that last one.

Finally, the writing stopped, and an expensive fountain pen was put down. The gynaecologist looked up with a friendly smile, sending another ripple of shock through Amelia's intestines. Those eyes—were they purple? They certainly looked that way, at least in this light! But no, when the woman averted her gaze for just a moment, they seemed just a strange kind of blue. Was it a mere play of shadows?

"Amelia Jones?" the other spoke, and Amelia could instantly pinpoint her slight accent as Slavic. Images of horror hospitals flashed before her inner eye, but she impatiently chased them away. Now wasn't the time for silly prejudice and stereotypes, now that this woman was going to have her hands up Amelia's…

"Y-yeah, that's me," the girl finally said, after realising the woman had been staring at her, waiting for a response, any reaction at all, one eyebrow quirked, yet that same smile still in place. Amelia forced herself to move forward, shyly shuffling towards the chair, draping her jacket over it and sitting down after the doctor had gestured for her to do so.

"I am Doctor Braginskaya," the woman casually informed her, reaching down and pulling out some new papers, which she placed carefully onto her desk. "I understand this is your first time here?" She read the papers—Amelia's papers, the quick survey she had had to fill in at the counter out front. Female, twenty-one years old, and so on. While Amelia had originally considered the question of sex to be redundant, seeing as this was a gynaecologist, she supposed there must be good reasons to have it present on the form.

"It is," Amelia said with a shaky laugh, quickly tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear to busy herself. Her blue eyes shot through the room (a vase of sunflowers by the window, pictures of family on the shelf behind the woman, and one single bed, the kind she'd only seen in the movies, where she would have to lie down upon and spread her legs wide).

Doctor Braginskaya nodded, looking back up. "Routine check-up, or are there any problems you would like to discuss? I remind you that anything you say will remain within these four walls; you are free to speak." Then, seeing how skittish the other represented herself, she leant over and added in a conspiratory tone, "I promise I won't bite."

Amelia barked out a laugh before she could stop herself, then slapped a hand over her mouth, pink rising to her freckled cheeks. The other had mirth in her gaze as she sat back, waiting for Amelia to speak up.

"Oh, yes. Just a check-up. My aunt thought it'd be for the best."

Stupid! Who talked about their older family members when going to the doctor's? She was no longer a child. In fact, she was an official adult everywhere in the world now.

Her gynaecologist seemed unfazed, however, nodding. "All right. I am going to ask you a few questions for your file, just so we don't have to ask them again every time you come here. I request you to answer them truthfully, as it will help us keep you a healthy woman." Even though she was simply saying the lines she had probably learnt by heart by now, the doctor seemed to truly care about Amelia's well-being.

And then there was that…woman. Not girl. "Girl You'll Be a Woman Soon" from that movie, Pulp Fiction, began playing in her head, even though it was false. She already was a woman, after all! Doctor Braginskaya had confirmed it just now.

Feeling slightly empowered, she nodded, placing her hands on her knees. "Okay. Hit me up."

The other smiled again, before once more grabbing her beloved fountain pen, and turning to the papers, switching over to Professional Mode. "When was your last menstruation?"

Amelia bit her lip, slightly leaning forward. "Um, about fifteen days ago."

"All right…and you have a constant cycle?" A fine eyebrow was quirked.

Amelia nodded, some more tension leaving her shoulders. These questions she could answer. Especially when asked in that tone, as if this really were just a routine exam (which it was, incidentally). "Yup, it's been pretty much the same amount of days since my sixteenth."

"Lucky," the doctor said in minor admiration. Something was scribbled down. "Are you on the Pill?"

A shake of the head this time. Negative.

"Have you ever had sexual contact with another person before?"

All right, scratch that. All nerves came flooding back full-force. Amelia looked down into her lap, where she was folding and unfolding her hands. "Um, nope."

A small pause, and for a moment she expected to be laughed at—really? In this day and age? A twenty-one-year-old virgin? Ridiculous!

None of that, however. All she got was a hum of contemplation, some shuffling of papers, and a mumbled "Then I can skip these next few questions. Now, I would like to ask you about your family's medical history."

Amelia blinked and looked back up, owlishly disbelieving. Dr. Braginskaya chuckled at seeing her perplexed expression. "Do not look so surprised, devushka. I am not here to judge women on their sexual activity, I am merely here to help."

Another blink, before finally, the rest of the tension flew away (for now). A lot more enthusiastically, the girl answered the questions about her family, if she ever had any trouble with her periods, and did some weighing and measuring (even though she did try to flatten her stomach while standing on the measuring scale). After all that, she had almost forgotten all about the main act of the day, even starting up a small conversation about her twin sister with the friendly woman (who had fully introduced herself as Anya Braginskaya, middle sister of three, but that was the most she was going to give away for now, lest they lose their professional relationship). She felt a lot more at ease than she ever could have hoped, free laughter genuine as she told a silly anecdote of how one time she had to go on a serious mission to get Maddie some chocolate at an hour where almost all stores were closed but the need to get some sugar into her system outweighed all reason.

And then she was handed a paper gown and directed towards a small dressing room in the back. "You can change now and then go lie down on the table, so I can start the physical exam," Anya informed her, finishing up the last of her notes.

Amelia looked down at the thin piece of paper, then followed the pointing finger towards the door. Right. She was going to have to lie there practically naked. And have another woman feel her up. Well, okay, not exactly, but still! She was going to be touched down there, so that was basically the same.

"Um, can we do this another time?" Amelia squeaked, feeling herself become smaller when the other sent her a gentle yet stern look.

"It is not routine check-up unless I can check you," Doctor Braginskaya explained, "I promise it will not hurt. I simply do a quick examination of your breasts and pelvic area, nothing harmful, and then you are free to go. I understand it may be…creepy, especially since you are a virgin, but I promise that no woman has ever filed any complaints against me."

She told it like a joke, yet it made the little hairs in Amelia's neck stand on edge. No one ever filed complaints against her…because she had ties with the mafia?!

It was a silly thought, of course. Anya Braginskaya seemed far too sweet to be part of the Russian mafia. Yet, as soon as that intrusive thought wormed itself into the girl's mind, other thoughts began accompanying it, only adding fire to the nerves in her gut. She could clearly see the other turning into a witch the moment she showed herself at her most vulnerable, attacking with knives and scalpels, damaging her where it hurt most. Or worse, she'd call in three buff guys who'd rape her all at the same time, or she'd be zapped to another dimension where no one wore clothes, or Anya was really a succubus who only wanted to—!

"Miss Jones? Amelia?"

The blonde jerked back when a hand waved back and forth in front of her eyes. Anya no longer looked as stern as concerned, though a hint of scepticism was added to the mix. "I promise it will not hurt. Plenty of other woman have undergone the exact same exam. Now please, go undress, I have other patients after you."

Amelia stared at her, heart beating in her throat, eyes wide with fear. No more Amelia the Brave for today.

The blonde suddenly jerked up, jacket clawed to her chest. "O-oh!" she said with a fake laugh. "I just feel…yeah, my periods have started! Sorry, can't go through with the exam!" At least that was one test she wouldn't have to fail.

The sceptical look intensified, and once more that purple hue became clearer in the doctor's gaze. "Right now?" she asked, obviously disbelieving.

Amelia nodded fervently, head bobbing up and down so fast she swore she could hear her neck protest. "Yup! Sorry, we'll have to do the physical exam some other time, gotta run!"

And without saying another word she whirled around and fled the office, only making a pit stop at the counter to grab her bills before forever fleeing the office. She never noticed how Anya Braginskaya stepped outside her office with a bewildered yet somehow slightly intrigued expression, curiously peering down the hallway with narrowed eyes, both annoyed and mildly impressed by Amelia's successful escape. Now that was something that didn't happen in her small office every day.

Outside, Amelia was already on the bus, knees pulled up to her chest as she tried to even out her breathing, silent screams smothered into her jacket.

Well then.

That was yet another place she could never return to, after that one McDonald's a few towns over and the entire state of Texas.

Too bad, actually. Since Anya had truly seemed like a nice woman. Too bad she had to have been an evil mafia witch as well.