My Short Story, "The Lunatic Girl," --- Part 3...

One of the orderlies approached me, a male orderly. He seemed to be leering. He grabbed my upper arm, led me away, down the long room to a bed with a screen behind it. "Get behind the screen and strip," he said. "NO!," I answered. "You will," he almost growled. "I WON"T!" He dragged me behind the screen. "I know why you're here," he said. "You're loose." "WHAT? How do you know such things? And, I am not loose!" He smiled, such a creepy smile. "Oh, anyone here, any of us medical persons, can look at the records. I saw you come in. When Ira went away I read the entry book. It said you have female hysteria and you're pregnant. You're unwed. You're pretty. Pretty girls are rare here." "You're filthy! Get away from me!" I screamed once more. Why weren't my screams bringing help, or at least attracting a bit of some sort of attention? He held my wrists with his powerful fingers. I struggled. He would rape me. I felt faint, perhaps, partly due to my condition, and, of course, the fright. He stood over me. He had dropped my wrists. I felt so, so sick and very faint. I was on my hands and knees, my mouth open, panting. A little drool fell from my lips. My stays felt like an iron band around my middle. I woke on the bed, face down on my belly. A dark haired woman was standing next to the bed, her arms folded across her chest. She looked down at me blankly. There was something wrong with her mouth. It looked swollen.

Then, the woman rushed off. I closed my eyes. I felt very, very sick, so shakey and ill. I heaved up the contents of my belly, over the edge of the bed. I closed my eyes again. I might have slept a bit, or fainted once more. A loud, harsh female voice woke me. Lucille!" She was standing next to the bed, a huge woman, her muscular arms ending in large clenched fists. "LUCILLE!" "Yes...," I answered, weakly. "You vomited, you pig! It will have to be cleaned up! You're clothes are a disgrace! You need to bathe and dress yourself neatly." She pointed to a small pile of clothing at the foot of the bed. "Pick those up and follow me." I did as she asked. We walked down the long room, empty eyes looking at us, the hollow-looking eyes of the inmates of this horrid place. We went throught a door to another big room. This was obviously the washroom. Metal bathtubs lined the walls and there were tables with yellow bars of soap and raggedy towels. The woman filled a tub half full with barely warm water. "Take a bath!," she ordered. I did as I was told, extremely embarrassed, as she watched me. I dried myself, put on the clothes. a shapeless gray cotton dress and a pair of long, rough wool stockings. "Follow me," the woman said. "The clothes you came in will be burned. That soap is very strong. It should have killed any lice. I hope your hair was not as infested as the hair of most of our patients. But, it will be shorn, just in case." "NO!," I said, touching my still damp locks. "Humph!," the woman snorted. "It will be, for cleanliness." --- Copyright 2023, by Antoinette Beard. (To read parts 1 & 2 check the "Search Box".)