Group: Verifiable Organisms
Member No.: 976
Joined: 25-February 13
Writers Note: For Mature Audiences Only
By StupidDialUp and PrettiPiggi
“Twy, You better get your ass to that damn p#$$y doctor today! I ain’t raisin’ no bleedin’ whore with no damn babies! You go get dem pills and I don’t want no God damn boys callin’ dis house no more, you unda’stan’?”
“Alright paw, I’m going, shit, get off my back!”
“Who da hell you think you are…”
Twyla raced through the mobile home door before she could no longer stomach hearing whatever her father had to say. She was already fuming about her dad finding out a boy from her high school called her last night while he was out doing what he always does. And she was angry and betrayed by her weak mother who always seemed to roll her under the bus when he would jump on her for whatever angered him at the moment. Normally it never bothered her since she understood that she was the strong one in the family and felt pity and love for her mother. But this betrayal, knowing how possessive and simple-minded her father is, seemed to cut a little deeper than most.
Being thirteen and living as poor trailer park trash in a school that always rejects her type was hard for Twyla. She didn’t have many friends in this small, southern town as their way of life was in constant contrast to her life. Numerous piercings, homemade tattoos, ever changing colored hair, and an obnoxiously dark and brooding wardrobe was not the most attractive of traits in a very religious and sports-driven small town, despite her ethereal face and velvety, fair skin. The only boys she seemed to attract were troubled ones like her or jocks who thought she was easy enough. Not all of their judgments were wrong.
Twyla was genuinely kind and courteous to those who treated her respectfully and her appearance was strategically chosen to help limit her friendships so they didn’t have the chance to be around her and her parents. She understood what her parents were and felt the less people mingled with them the better the world would be for it. And it was this understanding of the type of parents she had that she did fairly well in school; as well as a child reared by two illiterate parents can be. Her motivation has always been a scholarship for college since she knew that could be her only chance of escape. For now however, her temporary escape was with the attention from the boys at school. She was becoming a woman and the boys started to notice, more and more.
“Hey Twyla, what are you doing tonight?” asked Rickey, a senior offensive lineman on the school’s varsity team who was also the boy that called looking for her the night before.
“I gotta go to the gyno after school but after I don’t have any plans, Rickey. Don’t you have practice or something?” replied Twyla.
“Girl, football season is over! You can be kinda dumb sometimes, huh? But you know I can always come by your trailer and practice with you if you want?” Rickey halfheartedly joked. “Lady doc eh? That gotta be the best or nastiest job in da’ world! He a man doctor? Oh no, I don’t like no man lookin’ you over like that!”
“Oh shut up about the doctor. And sure you can come over, if you don’t mind being shot by my paw.”
“I ain’t worried about yo’ drunk ole man…maybe I swing by and surprise you tonight, yeah?”
Twyla rolled her eyes and gave an unimpressed smirk and walked away. She had often skipped school with Rickey and escaped to her trailer since it was only a couple blocks away from the school, but it was only when she knew her parents were not going to be home. But to suggest coming over at night was the absolute worst idea. She looked back to see if Rickey was still there and caught him staring at her inappropriately. She quickened her step and headed to her last class of the day hoping to give off the signal that his advances were not welcomed.
As the final bell rung she dreaded, as she always did, that she had to meet her mother at the front of the school with that old ‘85 station wagon. Her classmates always laughed and pointed at this monstrosity of a vehicle and all of them seem to make sure they reminded her that they saw it. It was just another humiliation brought on by her parents despite her pleas to pick her up a block away from the school. Her mother was always aloof from her medications to really care. “At least,” Twyla thought to herself, “she remembered to pick me up for the gynecologist today.”
These car rides became less and less talkative over the last year. When Twyla would broach the subject of her father’s drinking and subsequent abusive behavior, her mother would just make excuses that her father was “under a lot of pressure at work” and “a complicated and needy man” and that it was their responsibility to respect him or they would be homeless and starving. This would only infuriate Twyla to the point where silence was the only real option anymore. Despite her mother being overtly nervous and anxious today, the car was as quiet as a tomb…except for the constant screeching of the fan belt under the hood.
The doctor’s office couldn’t have been bigger than a barbershop. There was a small waiting room, an office manager/nurse behind a glass window, and two doors besides it. As her mother went to check her in for her first visit, she couldn’t help but notice how clean the pearly white waiting room was. She also couldn’t help but notice the several dozen photos of whom she presumed was the doctor with some of his female patients. The pictures were gathered and positioned in a way she imagined grandparents would litter their living room walls with pictures of their grandchildren and other loved ones. Only problem with these pictures were that none of the girls seemed happy to take the picture…not the way he seemed to be, with a smile that was big and bright with teeth that were possibly capped. This collage of girls, all seemed to be around her age, looked more like a poor attempt at grandeur as one of the only real doctors in town rather than testimonials of satisfied customers.
“Here, fill this shit out. You know I don’t wear my glasses no more,” her mother insisted as she forced the clipboard into Twyla’s belly. Twyla always had to do paperwork since she realized several years earlier she was the only one able to read in her house. As she read through the checklist for her medical history, she started to get a little panicked. She didn’t know what 90% of the words on this document meant nevertheless know whether she ever had any of these diseases. So she answered the ones that she could: marital status-single; alcohol use-yes, 3 times per week; tobacco use-yes, one pack per week for one year, sexually active…she decided to leave this one blank for now as she didn’t feel it was any of their business.
“Twyla, I’m leaving. I hate doctor’s offices. I’ll come back when you are done. Don’t go nowhere after, stay out front and I’ll get you when I get you.”
“Figures. Just don’t forget me like you always do.”
Twyla’s mother rapidly left the building, leaving her alone and scared as she always seemed to do these days. She was thankful that no one else was in the waiting room because she hates for people to see her cry. Crying has been a pretty regular activity for her, especially more so since she started to bleed. She remembered reading in one of her school books that when girls hit puberty their hormones can get out of control. This must have been the cause, she thought to herself. She knew she was stronger than her mother and her mother always cries, so there could be no other explanation in her opinion.
“Hello Ms. Twyla, I am Doctor Mason Justice. You can call me Doctor M.J. if you would like,” the doctor introduced himself as he put out his hand to shake.
“Why don’t you come with me back to the examination room. Patty, my nurse, will be in shortly to get a little more information. This is your first time with us?”
“Well welcome, it’s always good to meet blossoming young women in our fine town!”
Patty, a 30-something lady who seemed more pre-occupied with what was going on with her phone than doing her job, came into the room with a folded robe and a clipboard. Patty demanded Twyla to undress out of her school uniform shirt and skirt, told her how to correctly put on the robe and to sit on the table then quickly left the room. Twyla couldn’t decide whether Patty was being rude and unprofessional or purposely rushing out to do something else and just unintentionally avoided eye contact. Whatever the reason, it made her uncomfortable and she quickly decided to not like the nurse.
When Patty returned she ran through a long list of embarrassing questions in a manner that seemed like she already knew the answers. Her judgment oozed out of her eyes with contempt or disbelief with every answer Twyla gave. Twyla knew these looks and sounds all too well. Distinguishing pre-conceived notions is one of the talents bequeathed to the town’s weirdo. The door abruptly swung open and the doctor briskly walked in. Twyla thought to herself that this was probably perfect timing since she started to fantasize about shoving the pen Patty was holding into one of the holes in Patty’s head.
“Are we just about ready here?” the doctor asked.
“Here is her questionnaire,” Patty said as she handed the clipboard to the doctor while slicing a disapproving glance at Twyla. “Doc, do you mind if I leave early. She is the last appointment on the books and I have a bunch of stuff to do.
“Well Patty, that depends on if Twyla gives approval for me to examine her without a nurse present. You know the rules.”
As much as Twyla wanted to mess up this pitiful woman’s day, she couldn’t stand the thought of her watching whatever it was the doctor was going to have to do. She already felt humiliated enough. “No, please, let her go. You aren’t going to molest me right?”
“Oh wow, what would make you say such a thing! Of course not. You don’t stay in business as long as I have doing those horrible things!” the doctor smugly replied.
“Ok, Patty, finish the chart on the last patient and be gone.” Patty quickly left the room.
“Your nurse is a bitch.”
“Harsh language there young lady…though filled with truth as it is…still harsh language,” the doctor said with a smirk. “I’m assuming this is your first time to a gynecologist?”
“And it says here you want to start on birth control? I usually do not recommend someone this young start on birth control.”
“Save your judgment doc. My parents said I have to get it and I don’t want to hear any shit from them for not getting it, so just give me the pills.”
“I’m sorry Twyla, I was not passing judgment. Before I can prescribe any medication we need to do an initial examination. Are you familiar with the steps of these examinations?”
“You are going to look at my vagina right?”
“Well yes, I’m going to examine the outside and inside of your vagina but first I am going to conduct a breast exam to check for any abnormalities. You are young so I do not expect to find anything but we must be thorough. After that I am going to ask you to lie back on the table and put your feet into these stirrups at which point I will drape a blanket over your knees and slide my stool over to get a better look. You will feel me examining your labia and when that is done I will be inserting this speculum. It may hurt a bit but it will mostly be uncomfortable. You will hear a few cranks as I open your vagina and I will be inserting this swab and rubbing against your vaginal wall so we can get a test sample. I will then remove the speculum and gently insert 2 fingers and push on your lower stomach. Finally I will do a rectal exam that consists of more pushing and an inserted finger and then we will be done.”
“I thought you said you weren’t going to molest me?” Twyla joked semi-seriously.
“It is invasive but it is in the best interest of your health. I’ll be gentle and quick. Are you ready?”
“Not really but let’s get this over with.”
“Great, now please undo the top of your gown and expose your breasts.”
Twyla started to feel apprehensive at this point, as any young woman her age would. As she slowly pulled down her gown she tried her best to not make eye contact with the doctor. The doctor’s hand was cold as he placed it on her left breast first. He started to push against the cushion of her breasts in a circular motion. She noticed him staring briefly, presumably to locate something during the examination.
As he moved to her right breast she felt an accidental brush of her nipple that was now erect due to his cold hands. As he finished the examination she thought to herself that this whole process seemed unnecessary and uncomfortable, but what did she know about these sorts of things.
“Great, everything feels very wonderfully normal. Now please lie back on the table and place your feet in the stirrups.” As Twyla put her first foot in the stirrups she missed with her second and the doctor guided her foot to the missed metal. As he said he would he placed a blanket over her knees which blocked her view of him. She couldn’t decide if this was a good or bad thing, especially with him smiling like he had been when they met in the lobby. She could hear him roll his stool up closer and adjust the lamps as spotlights on her vagina as though it were a singer on a stage. He began the examination.
“Twyla, how long have you been sexually active?” the doctor asked, his tone changing from his oddly chirpy demeanor.
Twyla felt panic in her chest at the question. “What do you mean, I told that damn nurse I haven’t had sex with no boys!”
“Twyla, there is no reason to lie to me, sweetheart. I’m here to examine you and I can tell that you are and have been sexually active for some time. My job is not to judge you but to examine your health. I see the scar tissue. All of it.”
Twyla started to cry. She was already humiliated enough to this point and he hasn’t even come close to finish this awful exam. The panic overwhelmed her and she began pleading with the doctor.
“Please Doctor M.J., do not tell nobody. No one was supposed to know. I ain’t supposed to tell anyone…my parents, no, please don’t tell nobody!”
“I assure you, your examination is a private matter and by law I am not allowed to discuss these things with anyone besides you and whoever you authorize me to do so with,” the doctor explained as he peeked over the blanket.
“Well I don’t want you saying anything, OK?!”
“Your secrets are safe with me, Twyla, but I have to ask you a couple questions. Since I have to keep your secrets, can you keep one of my secrets?” the doctor asked with his odd smile returning, less comforting than ever.
This question staggered Twyla. She did not know where the conversation was going but did she really have a choice other than to answer yes if she was to truly keep her secret safe? Having all scenarios race through her head quickly, she comes to the decision that she would easily do anything…anything…to keep her secret from getting out. Before she could answer, the doctor gave her an option.
“If you do not want to verbally tell me the answer that is fine. Just nod me the answer.”
Twyla nods her head up and down.
The doctor stands up and unlocks a drawer in the back of the room. Her view of him is blocked by the blanket but she hears him digging in the drawer and then hears him speak, “Good, now that we have developed this sacred trust, I am going to ask you a question I already know the answer to. Feel free to nod your answer again so I know we understand each other.”
Twyla had been on the phone with Rickey for well over an hour now. It was 8pm and her father has not come home yet which means he stopped at the bar for the night. The nights when he is drunk are always the worst and tonight was already rough for her since she was still sore and feeling pressure down there from her appointment with Doctor M.J. Her mother was already in her “Soma Coma” for the evening. Even she knows the routine by now. But for now Twyla was trying to convince Rickey to not come over even though she knows her father was not going to be home until closing time at 2am.
“Twyla, come on baby, I need to see you. I’m comin’ over once my folks go to sleep. I don’t like da’ fact dat’ doctor man got to feel you up but I don’t.”
“Don’t Rickey! You don’t know what he is like when he is in that mood.”
“I don’t give a f#@!, besides, I’m bigga’ than dat fool anyway!”
“I’m hanging up now. Good night, Rickey!”
Twyla laid in her bed concerned that Rickey was going to make good on his promise. He had come by before, many times, but it was always during the day when they skipped school together. She did not want to think about what would happen if her father found him over. Exhausted from the stress of the day she passed out on top of her unmade bed, still in her school uniform.
He came in silently. So silent that Twyla did not know he was in her bedroom until she awoke from the feeling of her bike shorts and panties sliding down her legs. Still groggy from waking up hours before her body wanted her to, she couldn’t make sense of what was going on until she felt the dead weight beginning to rest upon her body and her legs being forced open. Her senses started to come back to her with the force of tidal wave.
First she heard his voice, “I couldn’t stop thinking about that damn doctor doin’ his examination all over you today. He ain’t no damn man lookin’ at dem nasty pussy all day. I’m goin’ to show you what a man is.”
With the first excessively violent penetration came the first shriek of unbelievable pain. He jumps off of her as though she was on fire and as screams of agony continue, he looks down, hands covered in blood. Twyla sits up and braces her back against the wall at the head of her bed. She looks down at him and finds his penis split into 4 dangling pieces half way down his shaft. At the middle is a metal ring with a cross made of razors you would find on an X-acto knife; welded toward the center of the ring with exact purpose.
He starts bouncing off of the walls, writhing in unimaginable pain, fingering through the dangling peels trying to make sense or even reconstruct himself like a soldier pawing at his missing arm lost in the heat of battle. Glancing up and down continuously at Twyla with panic and terror in his face, Twyla could not help but stare him in the eyes and offer a smirk. He stumbled out of her door, blood now puddles a path on the floor and smears the walls. She hears her mother scream at the horror of scene in the other room, clearly back from her drugged retreat.
“Twyla, what happened?! Twyla, help! PLEASE HELP GOD DAMN IT!”
Having patiently wiped the blood off of her thighs, Twyla notices the ring of razors on the floor and picks it up to examine it, removing bits of flesh to get a clearer view. She casually walks out of her room and into the narrow hall of the trailer. He has now passed out on his belly in the middle of her mother’s bedroom floor near the door. She looks up at her mother and calmly says, “This is no longer my problem, mother.”
Twyla was right; he would no longer be her problem. Tonight would be different. He was horribly pungent tonight as he always was; the smell of old sweat and cheap aftershave mixed with the sour of liquor and smoke on his breath; the sight of a missing tooth and sweaty brow were all burned thick into her memory. Even though tonight would start just like the several dozens of other times he has made these drunken visits over the last two years, ever since she started to bud, things would indeed be different. Different for Twyla. Different for her mother. And especially different for her father.
As she turns around and re-enters her room, Twyla picks up her backpack and digs a business card out of it that reads, “For emergency appointments, please call the number on the back. As she is dialing the number and waiting for someone to pick up on the other end she drifts back into the memory of her on the examination table earlier that day:
“Good, now that we have developed this sacred trust, I am going to ask you a question I already know the answer to. Feel free to nod your answer again so I know we understand each other,” she remembered the doctor stoically ask, his smile once again removed.
“Twyla, do you want this to stop?”
Twyla nodded up and down. The doctor smiled, sat back on his stool and proceeded to get back to work. “You are going to feel a little more pressure than normal down here.”
A man’s voice finally answers the line, “Good evening, Twyla. So tell me, will it stop?”
“That’s great, sweetheart! Can you make it to my office right now for an emergency follow-up examination?”
“Wonderful! I have Patty waiting for you at the corner to pick you up. Don’t worry, she is sympathetic. As you have probably realized, you had some abnormalities down there that we need to address right away. Do you have access to the tool?”
“Fantastic! Please bring it with you when you come and we will get you cleaned up, introduce you to some very understanding friends and get you ready for the day tomorrow! After all, it is picture day for the Wonderful Wall of Women for Doctor Justice!”