“I…” I thought back, trying to remember everything. The last thing I remembered was being in bed and crying over Eli and the future we would never have. My actions were necessary. If I hadn’t done what I’d done, he never would have left this town. As the months passed and the deadline grew nearer, it was harder to lie to Eli, even harder when we made love.
Eli would go to college and I still hadn’t figured out a way to tell him I was staying behind. It would break his heart, but better he have a broken heart than a broken soul. He’d find someone better than me anyway. Someone worthier.
Which is why I’d done what I’d done. I frowned at the thought, remembering the previous night. I’d gone to bed, tears in my eyes, and…
Blood.
Horror filled my features.
“What happened to me?” I asked Mama, my words barely above a whisper. “Why was there so much blood?” She let go of my hand and leaned back in her chair. Fear filled her features once more. Again the ghost haunted us. Apparently whatever had happened to me was something Daddy did not approve of. That was a long list in and of itself, so it didn’t help narrow down the prospects.
Mama and I sat in silence, the only sound the beeping of the monitors. I stared across at the blue wall for a while, trying to think of what could have caused me to bleed so much. I cursed the fact that we had no internet in our house. I cursed the fact that my homeschooling was really home-brainwashing. If it wasn’t for Eli, I’d have been completely dumb.
I imagine most people in my situation would know exactly what had happened to them. Me, though, I had no idea. My “anatomy” class had entailed Daddy telling me which parts of my body were unclean. It wasn’t until Eli that I learned about the internet and through that I learned about the brain and bones. Still, I had no idea what was happening to me.
If Daddy had let them take me to a hospital, it must have been serious. If Daddy refused to see me, it must have meant I was unclean.
“Gracie,” Mama whispered. “Are you awake?”
“Yes,” I replied, eyes closed.
“I got you this.” A light weight landed on my abdomen, which shouldn’t have hurt but did. I didn’t want to think about what was wrong with me. If I was dying, so be it. Not like I had much to live for anyway. I flinched, opening my eyes to see what had injured me.
“The Handmaid’s Tale,” I said aloud. By Margaret Atwood. I inspected the book like I always did. Every book Mama gave me was magic. I never knew what it would be or when she was going to give me one. How she got them was just as mysterious. I reached out to hug her, but cringed in pain. Mama patted my hand with affection and then stood up, as if to leave.
“Where are you going?” I looked around the unfamiliar sterile environment with fear.
“I gotta go home for a few hours, check up on Daddy, but you’ll be okay for a bit right?”
I nodded, not believing my own nod for a minute.
I stayed up all night reading the book. Mama didn’t come back to the hospital that night and she wasn’t there the next morning when the doctors came into talk to me.
I learned that I’d already been in the hospital for a day and had slept that entire day. Apparently I’d lost a lot of blood—like a lot of blood—and nearly died. I thought they wanted me to be more scared or something, because they kept telling me how much blood I had
lost. Death didn’t scare me though. Death meant freedom.
I thought The Handmaid’s Tale might be my favorite book. I’d never said that before, never actually chosen a favorite book, because in choosing a favorite book it’s like choosing a favorite child. The Handmaid’s Tale, though, was different than the rest.
While the other books transported me away from my circumstances and allowed me to forget where I was, The Handmaid’s Tale made me aware. It made me aware of just how different I was and how wrong my situation was, but it didn’t make me feel bad for it. I wasn’t sure what to do with the information, but it sat in my belly like a fire and I knew that fire would never burn out.
I knew I needed to learn to control the fire.
The Handmaid’s Tale rested on the nightstand next to my hospital bed. There was a knock on the door and I almost wanted it to be Daddy. I wanted Daddy to come in and see the book because right then I was begging for a fight, but I knew it wouldn’t be him, because Daddy never knocked. It was the doctor, along with three other doctorly looking people. I shrugged deeper into the bed, trying to prepare myself for bad news.
“This is a teaching hospital, Ms. Wall.” Dr. McClintock, who I’d come to know as my doctor, gestured to three submissive looking people behind her. “The three behind me are students and I would like for them to sit in while we discuss, so they can learn. You can elect not to have them here, if that makes you more comfortable.”
I was only wearing the papier-mâché feeling gown and they were all dressed in nice pants with white coats. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d showered and the fact that they were standing over me was not lost on my psyche. Still, I wasn’t sure removing the three awkward looking students was going to help much.
“It’s fine,” I muttered.
“Very good.” Dr. McClintock pulled up a chair and took a seat next to me. “Do you know why you’re here, Ms. Wall?”
“I don’t,” I whispered.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Wall, I didn’t catch that.”
“No,” I said a little more loudly.