Beginning 6
AN: Was a little worried that I might not have put enough information into the previous chapter (beginning 5) to explain. The idea was that Emma was at the rock festival she described in 'Shock of the New' aged five. Hope it makes more sense now!
The doctor was an odd man, a pinched face and cold, cold hands. Or perhaps it was just that she had been more sensitive to the cold recently. She hadn't wanted to go and see him, sure that what she had was simply a tummy bug - or so she had assured her mother and father repeatedly. But they had brought her here all the same, because they were worried, they said whilst sharing glances that made Shalimar worry. What were they keeping from her that they would go against her wishes after so long of agreeing to avoid the doctors at her request. She shuddered at the touch of the man's hand on her wrist and he looked at her with one eyebrow raised as if asking a question. Had he asked a question? She hadn't been paying attention she realised. She'd been doing that a lot, not paying attention. Her parents had allowed her time off school, not pushing her, leaving her to sit around indoors. When she had snapped at them her father had been annoyed, but her mother had pushed him away and sat with her, just sat. She had liked that. The silence. Things were getting louder, she was sure and the light outside was too bright for her eyes.
The doctor tutted and shook his head, she felt like growling at him. She didn't want to be here, why should she be here? She would stand up and throw off their concerned hands, resting on her shoulders as she sat before the strange man, she would leap out of the window and find a place where she could hide from the bright lights until morning.
"You're pregnant, Shalimar. Do you understand what that means?" She looked at him blankly. Was he making fun of her? She snorted in laughter and his face became more pinched as the hands on her shoulders began to shake. "You're not taking me seriously, Shalimar. And this is a very serious matter."
She was going to have a child. There was something growing inside of her as she thought of it. It was her own, part of her. It grew through her. It made her ill, but it wasn't too bad when she thought of the end result. A child. Her own child. She wondered why she wasn't scared. She hadn't listened to much of what the doctor had told her after it had sunk in that he was telling her the truth. She had heard enough to know that she was very young to have a child, but she yearned for the danger of such an undertaking. She would survive, and the child would help her survive beyond that.
She was going to see another doctor, they told her. A different doctor. She would stay with this doctor for a while and he would make things all better. She wondered when her mother had resorted to talking to her in child's language. Things like this didn't just get 'all better'. She was going to have a child and somehow that made up for all of the pain. It made up for Kurt and that night, just the thought of holding a smaller Shalimar in her arms.
They had taken it from her.
She was alone again.
Without hope.
Empty.
She cried.