【悬疑】Mirror Mirror（Prologue）Erica
My eyes flutter open, and I wake. Squinting my eyes, I look away from the fluorescent light on the ceiling. White curtains surround me on all three sides. A clock peaking from the top of the rail reads 3:08 PM. I roll to the right, push one elbow into the bed, and get into a sitting position.
For a couple of seconds, everything feels like a blur. Then I remember. I am in the hospital, waiting to be seen for a terrible cramp.
It started sort of like the cramp I usually got during a period, only TEN times worse. I am a tough cookie, so normal menstrual cramps never bother me. But holy hell this time it hurt like someone was trying to kill me by wringing my guts dry like a towel, then changed his mind and stabbed me in the stomach using a knife with saw teeth. That was the last thing I remembered before I passed out in the chair.
I lick my dry lips, and notice a metallic taste in my mouth. Oh, I think I’ve bitten the inside of my lips in the process too.
But it seems like the murderer has finally decided to leave me alone. Seeing I am the sole occupant in this “room”, so has Chase.
I am pretty sure he was with me in the waiting room after he took me here. He’d better not left me here by myself after what he did to me. What kind of jerk would do this to a girl, a girl who gave him her V card only six weeks ago!
Now I am officially pissed. I want to murder him. If I can’t get hold of any surgical knives, at the very least I need to kick him in the nuts. I snigger at the thought of Chase rubbing his groin in pain while I start snapping pictures.
The curtains slides open with a swoosh. Chase slips inside, and closes the curtains swiftly. His face lights up at the sight of me sitting on the bed. He rushes towards me, relieve written all over his face.
“Thank goodness you are okay! Are you feeling okay, Abby? Gosh, you scared the hell out of me! Wait, let me get the nurse.”
30 seconds later he’s back, sitting down on a chair beside the bed like a kid caught eating cookie dough.
“How are you feeling?” He inquires.
“Pissed!” I shout with my inside voice, not wanting to draw attention but needing to let off the steam that’d been building up in my chest before he shows up.
“Sorry, I just went to fill out some check-in forms.” He offers apologetically.
Okay. That makes sense.
“I don’t care. I am still pissed.” I glare at him, “I gave you six weeks to study on this one subject and you couldn’t even nail down the missionary position! Have you studied the porns I sent you? Or were you too busy jerking off to those ‘ladies’ to pay attention?"
“No!” Chase protests.
“No you haven’t studied porn, or no you were too busy jerking off?” I push.
“Wait, is this a trick question?” Chase frowns, rightfully confused.
“Yes, and I hate you!” Frustrated, I throw my hands in the air, “I couldn’t be doing anything wrong! I was just lying there like a starfish. It had to be you, ‘genius’!”
“But it didn’t work too well the first time when we followed the porn, remember? I figured this time maybe I should just let nature take over...” Chase responds sheepishly.
“Well, it didn’t work too well this time either, did it? I was expecting an orgasm, not excruciating pain! How would you feel if your guts get turned upside down when someone sticks his dick in your ass?" I fume.
"No, it was a different entrance..." He argues.
"I don't care! We already have a late start, now how are we supposed to move on? I am not going back to giving you BJ's, not after this. The line has been crossed!"
Before I have a chance to add more, a doctor walks in, a chart in his hands. He looks young, and a lot like Mr. Ferris, our sex ed teacher. I don’t care about his age, of course. But the fact that I am about to be grilled and maybe even physically examined by someone who looks like my sex ed teacher make me cringe. I wish I can get a female doctor. But this is not a time to be choosy. I need a doctor to tell me that it’s just a one time thing and will never happen again.
The doctor introduces himself as “Dr. Morris” before he greets me with a question, “how are you feeling, Abigail?”
Great, their names rhyme too.
“Much better now.” I tell him honestly.
“What about the pain?” Dr. Morris glances at the chart, and begins writing.
“It’s gone now," I frown as I recall the cramp, "Is there something wrong with me? It hurt really bad.”
“We don’t know yet,” he replies politely, and resumes the cross-examination, “Are you on your menstrual period, or have any bleeding?”
“No.” I say quickly. This wouldn’t have happened if I were, I silently add.
“Have you had similar cramps before?”
“No,” I shake my head to emphasize, “my cramps are pretty mild.”
“Um.” Dr. Morris ponders, his pen knocking on the chart board like a ticking bomb before it goes off.
I watch him nervously, and notice Chase’s expression mirrors my own.
“Have you felt any pain in your lower back lately?” He looks up from the board and gazes intently into my eyes, as if the answer to this question would solve the mystery.
Okay...I think for a moment, not sure what this has to do with my cramp, but answer anyway, “yes, I’ve been having some back pain for a couple of days. From the yoga class I am taking, I suppose.”
Dr. Morris nods, and pops another unexpected question, “are you sexually active?”
Caught off guard, my face heats up immediately like a tomato dropped into a pot of boiling water. Averting my gaze, I stutter, “I, I, um...”
Chase comes to my rescue, “Ugh...we’ve ...had sex twice,” sounding uncertain, he adds, “Um... I am not sure if this one counts, because we just started. ”
Dr. Morris nods again. “You said this was the second time. Did you use any contraceptive the first time?”
“No,” Chase responds slowly, as if he doesn’t quite understand the word “contraceptive” outside the textbooks.
Dr. Morris pauses, and writes some more on the chart. After he's finished, he drops the bomb, "You may be having a miscarriage. A ‘missed miscarriage', if you haven't been bleeding."
It doesn’t register in my head for a moment. I am simply stunned, not sure about what to do with this information.
"How is this possible? He pulled out before he shot his load!" I protest, turning towards Chase for backup.
Chase bobs his head furiously. I bet he’d flag the stained sheet to show the doctor the mess we made that day, if I haven’t washed it.
"Well, when was the last time you had your period?" Dr. Morris remains calm as a cucumber.
I consult my trusted MC tracking app from the phone in my jacket, and shove the screen into Dr. Mooris' face, "See? Two weeks ago!"
Pushing my phone away from his face, Dr. Morris persists in the same confident tone, “Was the flow similar to your regular period?”
“Um...it WAS lighter than usual.” My voice starts to tremble a little.
"If you were indeed pregnant, that could be spotting, which is not uncommon in this early stage." He explains.
My heart sinks to the bottom of my stomach, making me want to throw up. I remind myself that if I did, that’d just be another proof of my condition.
“Cramping, lower back pain and spotting,” Dr. Morris points with his pen to the chart I can’t see, “are all signs of miscarriage, and a missed miscarriage wouldn’t show any symptoms at all. But, like I said, we don’t know yet until we confirm it with some test results.”
He gives me a small smile that offers no comfort for my panic, then slips out of the curtains.
A couple minutes later, a nurse barges in to prick my finger and hands me a white stick.
“The blood test is more accurate, but the result of a urine test comes back faster. Do you know how to use a pregnancy test stick?” She asks as if this were a pop quiz in my sex ed class.
With a sudden urge to prove the doctor wrong, I rise to her challenge, “yes, I do,” then hop off the bed to the restroom, my phone in hand.
It turns out peeing in a stick is not as easy as it sounds. But after couple YouTube videos, I walk out of the restroom to the waiting Chase with a wide grin on my face, not caring if I hurt some muscles in the process.
“It’s ne-ga-tive!” Dragging every syllable, I deliver the news with my best “raise the roof” move, and give him a loud smack on the cheek.
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