Chapter 3 Nomenclature

Ten months ago

Sophie's POV

I laid on my fluffy white bed, my eyes closed but my ears alert for any stray sound. I was on my back, my mind trying to soothe me. For so long, my imagination has been the only thing keeping me going. Throughout the episodes of the abuse I had suffered during my childhood, I had managed to create a soothing paradise in my imagination, a place where I could go to rest and recuperate my body.

Im my personal paradise, all my friends were there and the fun of it all was that they competed for my affection, for my friendship., They cared for me and always comforted me whenever I almost gave up on living. My stepfather could rape me as much as he desired but he could never harm my friends. Somehow it gave me some kind of power over him, having something that was out of his reach.

As if I had summoned him, one of my friends, Harry came to sit beside me. My eyes were still shut but I could feel his intangible presence. I was not afraid of him; he would never hurt me.

"So, how are you today?" he asked gently.

"I'm okay," I responded, not sparing me a glance

"Then why are you ignoring me? I told you I love you but you never said it back. Do....do you hate me?" he asked in despair.

Even I could not miss the misery in his voice. Immediately, I sat up and scrambled close to him. I pulled on his chin so that he would look at me.

"No, Harry. I don't hate you at all. How could I? You are the only one I love," I said, trying to reassure him but his eyes held disbelief. He hung his head, shaking it violently to get my hand off.

"I know you. I also see you staring at that male doctor whenever he is in your room. It is he you desire and not me. Don't try to deceive yourself and least of all, me."

He looked so angry that I wanted to shove myself under my bed and whimper. But I had to placate him somehow. I loved him with all my heart and I could not do without him. If Harry left me, I would go insane sooner or later.

I fell on my knees, begging for his pardon.

"Harry, please don't do this to me. Please, forgive me! I won't gape at the doctor anymore. I'll be good, I promise you, Harry. I beg you, have mercy, Harry! My love, please forgive me. I'm so sorry and I will never offend you again."

He had almost gone but he looked back at me tentatively. I could hear my loud breathing.

"Do you promise to love only me forever?"

I wasted no time to nod my head vehemently. He smiled like a predator stalking his prey.

"Okay then. I forgive you but I still have to go. I've got other things to do, So."

Fear dripped into my

system. He no longer cared for my welfare as before. I started screaming out loud:

"Nooooooo! Harry, noooooo! Please don''t, go! Nooooo!"

Suddenly, I was brought back to reality. No one was in the room with me but I could feel some sort of static electricity crackling in the air. I could hear myself screaming so I wasn't surprised when I saw the doctor and his staff of nurses run into my room. They gathered around my bed, spitting all manner of medical jargon they had acquired in medical school. I felt myself growing weaker and my screams subsided as a nurse injected a substance in my IV bag. My eyes drifted shut and I surrended myself to unconsciousness.

Two hours later

Shadows stalked my bed, voices calm and sweet spoke above my body but too tired to get up, I remained lying down. Whatever they had injected into me must have been very strong and effective. My head was feeling foggy and I could not concentrate on a particular thought.

"She went into shock, Madam. In all my days of medical service, I have never witnessed such a shattering outburst as hers. It was like she was being suppressed or suffering from indepth agony. Her screams were so bloodcurdling that I had to order that sleeping draughts be administered into her IV bag," the doctor explained.

It seemed like whomever he was speaking to was more eager to listen than to speak. It was almost a monologue, like the type one has with his reflection in the mirror.

"So far, we have managed to salve all her wounds but emotionally......this girl is broken. Her zeal to recover has been shattered by whomever did this to her although I perceive that this is definitely not the first time this is happening."

As if, I scoffed inwardly. That was the biggest understatement of the year. Not the first time? It was probably the 100th time or more than that. From my stepfather to his drinking buddies to his poker club members and friends, it was a wonder that I had not been called out for having contracted any form of STDs. He had been cautious concerning that area, perhaps.

My stepfather got married to my mother while I was in boarding school. She had kept me a secret from him because of his violent, dominant attitude. He always wanted sex whether my mother gave her consent or not. If she refused him, he would tie her to his bed, rape her and leave her hungry for days. If only I had known about him in time, I would not have come home and my mother would still be alive. I had planned to come home but as a,surprise to my mother. At the end, my surprise resulted in her doom. He was so angry with her for concealing my existence for so long that he broke a chair over her head.

She was rushed to a clinic but there was nothing to be done for her. On her death bed, she asked me to forgive her for leaving me to that monster. She had sworn that she had never wanted me to meet him but as it stood then, he was my only legal guardian. She encouraged me to run away before he would come to pick me up after she must have died. I kissed her goodbye and raced out of her ward.

Unfortunately for me, I ran into the open arms of my stepfather who put up a caring act for the benefit of the medical workers. I squirmed uncomfortably to get out of his hold but the glare he fired me froze all my attempts to escape. He kissed my forehead and took me back to my mother's room. When Riele, my mom, saw me in his arms, she panicked and started hyperventilating. He had smirked dangerously, saying:

"I will make sure to continue where I left off. You can count on that. Bye, Riele."

My mother tried to scream but no sound came out of her tiny lips. She pushed herself off her bed, trying to get to me but to no avail. She died an hour later of a heart attack. That was the beginning of my torments.

"Doctor, were you able to determine her age?" His visitor- a female- finally spoke. Her voice was familiar.....ah-hah! It was Madam Veronica.

"I'm not very certain but I can say she is between the ages of 19-22. Maybe when she is awake, she can tell us."

As if.

Madam Veronica sounded perplexed.

"Do you mean she has started speaking?"

The doctor's face was grim in concentration.

"Unfortunately, she has not said a word but after today's incident, we are hopeful of a change. I also recommend you get a therapist for her or I could recommed one for you."

Silence suddenly reigned at that junction. I could hear their breaths pumping in and out. Finally, Madam Veronica broke the chilly silence.

"May I please speak to her privately?"

"Of course. I will be right outside if anything comes up," I heard him exit the room quietly. Knowing it was just I and Madam Veronica in the room, I opened my eyes and stared blankly at the ceiling.

"You are awake," she rather exhaled than spoke. I nodded a yes in reply.

"How are you feeling today? Getting better?" she wanted to know. I nodded another yes.

She bobbed her head in approval. Leaning backwards, she rested her back on her chair and sighed in exhaustion. She seems very tired today, I thought. I constantly wondered why she was bothered about me. I was a nobody, owning nothing to my name. Even if I died or lived, the world would keep spinning. So why waa she taking care of me?

"Well, today I came to tell you that the doctors are planning on giving you a surrogate name, an alias, if you please, since you have refused to tell them your name," She paused, perhaps to gauge my reaction.

An alias? I must have cringed at the thought because she quickly continued:

"But if you don't want that, instead of saying your name, I brought a writing pad and a pen so you can write it down."

True to her words, Madam Veronica opened her expensive leather bag and brought out a spiral notepad and a ballpoint. The pen was exquisite with a golden tip and an equally golden logo across it. I handled the pen with care, examining the logo. There was a combination of letters on it, oh, a word but I could not read it. What a shame!

"Well, you can write on any page you like as long you write your name."

I knew my name, of course. Who doesn't know their name? The only problem was that I could not spell it. I knew that if I said my name, this kind woman would readily have it spelt but I didn't wish to speak to anyone, including her. I could spell parts of the name though, the parts my stepfather preferred to call me; I wasn't a complete, clueless idiot. I opened the notebook and wrote in a scrawl: So.

Her brows quirked at me, her unspoken question well heard.

"Your name is So....as in Sophia or.....um...I guess that's it. I can't think of anything else. Your name is Sophia. Surname?"

My blank look should have passed across the fact that I did not care to know my last name but until I had kept staring at her for three minutes, she finally realized that I was no longer writing anything. She sighed again before returning her stationeries to her large bag. She rose to her feet somewhat victoriously.

"This is an improvement, by the way. Thank you, Sophia, for your cooperation. I will take my leave now. Your meal is on its way. Goodbye," she ended, waving at me cheerily. I waved back at her but with less enthusiasm. The sound of the door closing was the last thing I heard before I went back to sleep.