Paternity

I barely sleep at night.

An aftereffect of the tranquilizer. Partially due to the severe nightmares. And the fear that someone might try to enter my room at night. I’ve grown accustomed to this. I don't need sleep.

The sleepless nights make me pale and the skin around my eyes dark. The less attractive I am in here, the better anyway. The only reason I haven’t scarred my own face is because the won’t give me forks or knives, and they keep my nails too dull to cut anything.

The next morning is different from most. Usually, my door is unlocked, I’m given my medication, and then left alone. Today, I am picked up and walked through the halls and back into the main medical unit. It’s the same room as yesterday.

No one tells me what’s happening, but I assume it’s the paternity test, so I don’t fight. My baby will be safer attached to Tom’s name.

“Are we set up for this?” A nurse asks, “maybe we should transfer her to a hospital.”

“I’ve brought in Dr. Kyle. She’s more than qualified.” Dr. Golfe says.

“Qualified to do what?” I ask but no one answers. The nurses and doctor are dressing in scrubs and preparing different equipment. “Qualified for what?”

I see Dr. Kyle when she walks in, but her first focus is greeting Dr. Golfe.

They smile at each other and Dr. Golfe thanks her for coming on such short notice.

“Anything for Mr. Hayden.” She says as she approaches me. She stands over me with a smile that is far too wide. “Are you ready?”

“This is a lot just for a paternity test, isn’t it?” I ask.

She looks confused and glances at Dr. Golfe who shakes his head and waves a hand as if to say, “continue.”

“Honey,” her voice had a tinge of sympathy, “I’m here for—"

Dr. Golfe quickly cuts her off, “she’s not well, Dr. Kyle. We don’t need to upset her again.”

Dr. Kyle glances at him, then nods and looks back at me with a smile. “There will be a pinch and a little pain but it will be over soon.”

“Will it hurt the baby?” I ask.

She seems concerned and says, “the baby can’t feel anything.”

I glance from her to Dr. Golfe, and then to the nurses. One puts an IV in my arm.

“What’s this for?” I ask. I look up at Dr. Kyle. This is wrong. I can feel it. This is wrong. “What are you doing?"

“It will be okay, Mrs. Hayden.” She soothes.

“I’m Samson. Chloe Samson – why….” I pause for a second as a dark, deeply haunting thought creeps in. I've relied on my instincts in here. Right now, my instincts are screaming at me to stop this. I slowly look up at her again, “why… why are you here? What are you doing to me?”

“I told you, she needs to be kept calm,” Dr. Golfe steps forward and shouts out instructions to the nurses.

“No. No! Why are you here? What are you doing to me?!” I try to pull away from the IV but the nurses and doctor’s work together to restrain me, “what are you doing to me?!”

“Mrs. Samson, this is a paternity test!” Dr. Kyle finally shouts. I pause, only a little though. Her eyes are closed, and she seems conflicted with her next words. Her grip on my arm settles as I calm, “have you ever had a paternity test before?” I shake my head no, “old school paternity tests could cause birth defects. We are doing this to prevent that.”

“Oh…” I blink and settle in, suddenly feeling grossly embarrassed. Her words are oddly and awkwardly put together but they still calm me, “Why didn’t you just say so—? What are you doing?”

The nurses start to strap me to the bed.

Now Dr. Kyle is at a loss for words but Dr. Golfe steps in, “it would be best if you could settle yourself so we can begin the procedure. Mr. Hayden will be here for the results later today.”

I nod and lie back, letting the restraints relax. The uneasy, sickening feeling is only getting worse. Something inside me screams to fight, to stop them but I’m too scared. I don’t want to be called irrational or crazy again. Dr. Kyle seems nice. If she believes I’m sane, she can maybe get me out of here.

But the panic grows and I feel my hands trembling even after they start pumping me full of anaesthesia. My feet are lifted, and Dr. Kyle starts working between my legs.

I nervously ask again, “why are you doing this?”

“Mrs. Hayden,” Dr. Golfe is one of the only people who refuse to call me by my name. “Mr. Hayden has requested this procedure be preformed.”

Dr. Kyle stops suddenly and stands so she can say something to Dr. Golfe. I only hear a few small words, not enough to build a concept for what they’re talking about, but they seem to be arguing.

“A paternity test shouldn’t take this long, should it?” I ask.

Dr. Kyle turns her head now to answer, “I just applied a little numbing cream. We’re going to wait for it to work.” Dr. Golfe clearly disagrees with this decision and they go back to arguing quietly.

A nurse—one of the ones who joins in on my private “treatments”—leans down and breathes against my ear, “Mrs. Samson,"

I flinch away from his sour voice. The sound of his amusement echoes in me and makes my body tremble. He has a scar above his right eye from when I fought back once upon a time. He's never gotten over it.

A creepy, sadistic smile pulls across his face, "I know I shouldn't but I want to be the one who tells you."

"Tells me what?"

His smile grows. The wicked look in his eye sparkles, "This isn’t a paternity test. Mr. Hayden decided he didn’t want this bastard at all. He doesn’t care who the father is. He just wants it gone.”