Her sight blurs
And her balance falters.
Slowly, she sinks to the ground.
“What is happening to me?” she begs,
While a throbbing ache in her side persists.
Throwing the drawer open,
She searches for any blade.
Finding none she grasps a glass jar
And with one great crash
It shatters at her feet.
Slicing her fingers,
She holds an angled peice close to her pride,
Preparing for the first incision.
She gulps down her strength
But the lady walks in.
Calmly, she clears the glass away.
“No dear, that is not your remedy,” she states.
Then, picks her up
And sets her down on the metal table
Fastening her legs upon some stirups
And shoving her on her back,
She chooses a metal probe.
“Now, take a deep breath,” she smiles.
A twinkle flashes into those eyes.
It is hardly noticed
As her legs are instantly parted
And with one fluid movement,
An icy chill rips through her
Snooping over private hills and tiny crevices.
What was left of her precious is lost.
Only a desire to scream pervades;
But, her mouth remains shut.
“Just a little longer,” the lady coos.
(As if she could even be aware of time)
But, just as the wondrous wonder adjusts,
A sharp jab consumates more
Sending a swift reminder.
And, just as it began,
The lady removes her wand.
Words pass through the air
Followed by a torn note.
She crams it into her pocket,
Like the thought of return,
And clumsily walks away
Dripping in red.
The footsteps she leaves are not to be followed;
But, exiting the double doors,
She glances into familiar eyes.
© 2016 Jessica Santos