I held my t-shirt up fists balled under my breasts. Prone in stirrups, I strained to look down. I was confused and weak but awake. She placed a flat palm on me, halfway between breasts and belly button. One hand on top of another she pressed down once, hard, using her whole body. Her palm neared my belly button. She gave some thought then moved it between my belly button and mons. Pressed down again using more force. I felt a push. I recognized her intent but I wasn't in pain, it felt like indigestion. I felt like farting. Even in my confusion I managed embarrassment. While I was distracted trying not to fart she pressed down again mightily. Now it hurt. Now it felt like my intestines along with my stomach and everything else connected all burst through my vagina. My arms went limp. I was empty save for brains and heart. She examined between my legs. Poked at something with her index finger. She seemed pleased.
"Do you think I will be able to draw again?"
"Will I be able to ride my bike?"
"Yes honey. You will be able to continue to do everything you do now. That is the point."
"Okay. But mom?"
"I love you."
"I love you too honey."
"I want to stay with you."
"I know honey."
"You're not my mom, are you?"
"I know. It's okay. I can stay with you anyways."
"You'll have to honey. You have nowhere else to go."
"I know. It's cool. Mom?"
"Can we play deadhead barbies again like the other day?"
"Sure honey. Now stay still."
"I'm sorry I went off with the officer."
"I know you are."
"I didn't know."
"I know you didn't."
"I hate him."
"Me too honey."
"You're driving me to the brink of extinction."
"What does that mean?"
"Nothing. What is it honey?"
"Mom, this dress is itchy. Can I take it off?"
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Breaking into the Boarding School Infirmary:
by Matthew Dexter
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