Teresa Burrell
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Preface
The
fourteen-year-old girl struggled to break free from the bindings on
her hands and feet. One woman on each arm held her as she fought. Her
feet were in stirrups, and the unbearable pain shot through her
abdomen. Her blonde hair was wet with sweat. She yanked her right arm
away but the heavy-set woman holding her arm threw her body across
the teenager, pinning her down on the hospital bed.
“No,”
the teen screamed. “No! Don’t take my baby.”
“Push,”
the body-blocker said. “Just push.”
The
tall, thin woman holding the teen’s left arm spoke calmly. “You
need to stop fighting and breathe. Your baby is coming. You need to
push.”
The
girl looked around the small, dirty room for help, but all she saw
was a man wearing a surgical mask sitting at the end of the bed
between her legs, waiting for her to give birth. He would be no help.
After all, she had agreed to this. The candles flickered around her,
casting soft shadows around the room. The oak tree painted on the
wall and the circle around her bed would protect her, or so she was
told. But she hurt so badly and no one seemed to care.
The
heavy-set woman was face to face with her. The girl could feel her
breathing and smell her garlicky lunch. “Just push,” she said
again.
The
girl screamed.
“This
is your child’s fate. Your baby must be sacrificed. Are you a
believer?”
The
girl wanted to say no. She didn’t know what to believe, but fear
won out. “Yes,” she said.
“Yes,
what?”
“Yes,
I believe. I believe in the power of the oak. I believe in the power
of the oak.” She was chanting now and the two women joined her.
“I
believe in the power of the oak. I believe in the power of the oak.”
The young girl screamed again as another contraction shot through
her. She pushed as hard as she could, then stopped.
“Again!”
the man at her feet yelled. “Push!”
She
pushed and screamed in agony until she felt the mass exit her womb.
Her body lay limp on the bed as she heard the baby cry. The heavy-set
woman continued to hold her in place while the tall woman took the
baby to the back of the room and out of sight. The baby’s cries
still filled the room.
Then,
silence.
A
few minutes later the woman returned without the child.
The
girl turned her head away and closed her eyes. What have I done?
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