Weird um rape story thing? :(

Grasping furiously at the directions on brilliant white sheet, the small and delicate digits of the infant flexed and stretched. Testing boundaries like a fly tests its ability to fly away from a spider‘s web. Too late, child. You’re on your way to development, to growth, you’ll soon be in as wretched a place as I, thought Milaenie viciously. The soft, forgiving baby grabbed her hand comfortingly. She slapped the hand away. The baby scrunched up its pudgy face and wrapped its tiny fingers around Milaenie‘s larger one. She grabbed the babies hand and squeezed, crushing the glass bones. The baby screamed in terror and pain.

Shut up, Milaenie commanded fiercely in her mind. She didn’t open her mouth, though. She preferred using her actions to get her way; she slapped the baby’s warm face. The baby cried harder. She’d read posters before about kids who shook babies, and they ended up disabled. She decided she ought to give it a try. She knew it would shut the kid up for a moment, at least. Grabbing the baby angrily by the shoulders, the tips of her thin fingers digging into its squishy flesh, she shook the kid as hard as she could. The baby’s head violently shook forward and back. There was a crack as the baby’s tiny neck broke. Milaenie sighed. Wasted use of a body, she complained silently as she tossed the body to the corner of the dirty tile floor, into a pile of used old needles.

Walking to the kitchen drawer, she searched for a sharp object. Didn’t these people own any scissors? Finally, she found an exact-o-knife beside a few butter knives. She pulled off the cap and put the blade to her own smooth skin. She used to care where she cut, not wanting anyone to find the scars, but it didn’t matter anymore. Who would care?

Yes she felt remorse. She cut once, shallow. She didn’t want the kid to die! She cut again, deep. It was better than the life the kid would have had. She dug the sharp blade far into her wrist. She loved the kid, damnit! She loved her baby, she wanted a good life for her baby, and what better life than none at all! She cut a last time, almost into her muscle, twisting the blade into her skin. Stumbling over to the kitchen’s medicine cabinet, blood pouring from her arm, she found a bottle or two of acetaminophen, some ibuprofen, other unnamed drugs. She poured them all down her throat, swallowing dry, letting them stick uncomfortably in her throat. At least 40 pills. She walked to the corner and carefully picked up the discarded body, her own blood staining the innocent kid’s sweet, pale skin. She stumbled out of the small apartment, fell to her knees, crawled in the grass. Had to find a destination, had to find a place to die. Fell to her face. Baby crushed beneath her. White, then black, then blank. So tired. She was blind. Oh, the release…



Everything was white. Ceiling, walls, white. Her head was pounding like it never had before. Was she still alive? God forbid. Was she in hell? Better than life. Anything was. But no. As days, weeks, time passed on, waves of movement and sound crashed upon her consciousness, sliding away before anything could register. Voices casually discussed her survival chances, monitors beeped. So she must be alive.

How? How? Oh God, how? Who would pay for her medical bills? She sure as hell wouldn’t. She knew she had to grip herself. She had to find consciousness. She had to wake up.

Wake up.

Wake up!

She forced her eyes open, slowly. A nurse (white, wearing white, light hair, where were the shadows in her pale face, in the pale room?) was tending to her. Her light eyes looked surprised to see a conscious Milaenie. She quickly bustled out of the room. Yes. Leave. I’m awake, now it’s okay to leave. Vicious, of course. It all was, everything in her head.

The nurse came back with a white doctor. Dear God, what she’d have done for a crack of colour, for a shadow, for a fucking rainbow! He walked over to her. Shined bright light in her eyes. Milaenie’s heart raced, she winced like hell, she flipped herself over and shoved her face in one pillow, put the other over her head, hid. What the hell had he done while she was asleep! Imprints from the many fingers that had caressed her over the weeks of coma and near-consciousness angrily shoved into her mind. She shivered and held herself for comfort for a moment. Let go. She wasn’t exactly gold-star companion.

She could hear the white doctor talking to her. Could hear, understand his words, but it took conscious effort. It had never taken effort to understand before. She was so detached, she couldn’t comprehend without thinking. The white doctor stood beside the white nurse, sat down comfortingly on the white bed, rubbed his hand comfortingly on her white, white back. She slapped his hand away, pushed him away, flailed, screamed a wordless note. Get your white ass away from me! She was screaming inside. Shrieked outside. Gasping. Fearing. Oh God, not again, not again.

The doctor must have been a little bit stunned. The obvious didn’t occur to him. Before the more intuitive nurse could stop him, his white hand reached again for Milaenie as he asked her name. Milaenie thrashed and shivered and shook and flailed and screamed without words. Get away, get away!
The nurse whispered something to the doctor. Milaenie didn’t see him nod, didn’t see him leave the room, heard him. The door was closed. Footsteps, close, someone was still inside. White nurse inside, get away! Men were bad, but women were guilty too. Everyone, god damned humanity was guilty! Headache.

Nurse sat down, far end of the room, kept her distance. Good. She’d better. Quietly talked about counselling offered by the hospital for rape victims. Rape. Rape. Rape. Rape. Get the damn word out of my head! My fault. Naïve. I’m naïve. I trusted, I was naïve. Didn’t talk, was raped so many times, wanted out. Offered help. Taken to a new country. Raped there, too. Prostitute. Oh God, oh God, why didn’t I die? I want to die! Let me die!

The white nurse noticed the lack of response. Walked over, looked her in the eye. Milaenie retreated into her pillows again. Here to help, help, help, said the nurse. Here to help, help, help, the man had said. Then he sold her as a fucking slave. She didn’t need help from anyone. She just wanted to caress her baby. Leave with her baby.

Oh shit. The fucking baby. Her fucking baby. She killed her fucking baby! Wail, wail, she let out a wail like a baby herself. White jumps back. Baby, baby, where were the babies?

Where was she? Did they find the baby? In her arms, found, of course. Who brought her here? Why? Normal hospital? In a prison?

Where am I?