Page 9 of My Little Doe
“Seven weeks or so,” I said.
“Oh, okay,” she said.
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
“Yes, as far as I can tell. You’re too early to hear the baby anytime soon. Your pulse and blood pressure are a little higher than I’d like, but it’s probably due to—” she looked around the cell, “—the situation.”
“I don’t know what that means…” I said.
“It means it needs to be lowered, or complications can happen for you or the baby,” she said.
“How can I lower it?” I asked. I didn't have control over much, but if there was something I could do, I was going to do it.
“I’m not sure if you will be—”
“How?” I cut her off.
“High blood pressure can be from a lot of things. Given the circumstances, I’d say it’s probably due to the stress. I don’t know how to tell you to relax more in here,” she said.
“Oh,” I said, defeated.
“But I’ll talk with Ravik and see if I can convince him of anything. Do you like to color? Watch television?”
“Yeah,” I answered.
“Which one?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at me.
“I colored with my sister, or I watched TV, but we only had a few VHS tapes.”
“Anything else you liked to do for fun?”
“I don’t know,” I said.
Part of me didn’t want to share more about me than was needed, and the other part didn’t know. I used to party for fun, and that changed. My brother and I often invited friends over and spent our evenings either drinking or smoking pot. Everything had changed that week. My mindset shifted, and I went quiet on everyone. I hadn’t invited anyone over and kept to myself.
“Okay,” she said. She grabbed her things up, putting a couple of things in her pocket and the rest in the canvas bag draped over her shoulder.
I remained on the thin mattress on the floor, staring at her. She looked back at me with the same eyes she’d given me earlier. It was like she wanted to help me, wanted to save me, but she couldn’t. There was no saving me. She’d made that clear.
I was Ravik’s prisoner, and everyone in this town was loyal to him. I always knew that our small town had corruption. It was often about who you knew and what you knew, but I was naive and didn’t know there was one person who had major control. I’d never heard his name until now.
I knew that I couldn’t run away. Someone was always standing outside of my cell; if it wasn’t Quinnlyn, it was someone else. Someone who didn’t answer me, who ignored everything I said. That was how I knew when it wasn’t Quinnlyn.
The midwife left, and I was alone again. The chattering outside faded, but I knew someone was still there. I refused to accept this as my fate. I couldn't. But every minute in here took something from me I wasn't sure I'd get back.
I needed to fight for Aspen. For the baby that was within me. For myself. I had to come up with a plan to get out of here, but I didn’t know what. Quinnlyn seemed to enter when I was sleeping,when I was vulnerable. Not to mention, I was sure he could take me down. Whoever the other guard was, they never entered, only standing outside the door.
I looked around the room, focusing on everything, on anything that could help me. The only thing that was hard in this room was the toilet. I knew from removing the toilet bowl lid at home that it wasn’t lightweight and would also be noisy, bringing attention to myself. I had to figure this out. It was clear that even if I were to make it to delivery, I’d be left here to rot, and they would take the baby.
I’d been sitting there for a long while, tears streaming down my face, falling onto my shirt. The door opened, and Quinnlyn walked in with two full plastic bags. He walked over to the floor bed and set them down.
“What is this?” I asked.
“The midwife said you needed some clothing and things to calm you,” he said.
“Yeah, because it’s going to take away that I’m being held against my will,” I said.
I moved to stand up, and he took a step back. I reached down and grabbed the cotton clothing out of the bag and held it up.
