Coming To Grips {3}

“I-I was r-r-r…?” I stuttered.
“Yes. You were… raped.” the intern said gently. He was seated in the chair across from me and his eyes were wide and compassionate. I sat in the bed, hunched over with my hands covering my sodden eyes. I quivered, fearing… everything.

”... and I’m… pr-pregnant?” I sobbed.
He just gazed at me. He couldn’t force himself to share with me the awful truth.
“But… I am… I was a virgin.”
He remained silent. His solemn, sympathetic face reassured me that it didn’t matter.

“I was… was a… I’m not a… I lost my… virginity?” I mumbled to myself. As hard as I tried, I could not comprehend that fact. I could not reconcile myself to the fact that it, that night, could never be erased. And more consequential than that even, I was pregnant…

“How can I be p-pregnant? How do you know after just a few hours…?”
His face transformed from simpathetic to distressed. Somethings did not add up…
“H-how long have I been in here?” I asked, terrified to know the answer.

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