Chapter 2 Ginny
TWO
GINNY
GINNY
‘Mama, I don’t want to get out.’ I gripped the edge of the seat, refusing to move. The imposing building leered over the car like a great demon waiting to swallow me. Faces gaped out of the windows, pale and wan, one near the top floor contorted in a silent scream.
Goosebumps raised the hairs on my arms. My heart beat faster. The letters over the door read WELLARD ASYLUM. Asylum. Mama told me we were going to the hospital to get checked over…Not that she wanted to abandon me in an institution.
‘Get out.’ Mama’s jaw tensed, creating a little crater beside her ear. Over the past months, she’d grown thinner, withered. I blamed it on her getting older, but I worried she had something bad going on with her. Why else would she drag me there?
Weeds as high as my hips splintered the paving stones, decay ageing every part of the building in front of us. Unease swept through me as ravens crowded the roof, staring in silent judgement. A jury screaming danger with each menacing caw.
‘I’m not going. I want to stay with you and Pops. I’m an adult now. You can’t make me go.’ My cheeks were wet as a man in a white coat walked toward the car.
Mama’s eyes were bleak, her teeth worrying the edge of her cracked lips. ‘You’re not coming home, and you’ve got nowhere else to go. Not like that.’
Her eyes flicked to my distended stomach.
Shame filled my face.
‘Mama, it’s not my fault.’
Bloodshot eyes fixed on my face, spittle hitting me as she barked out her words. ‘It’s all your fault.’
The doctor yanked open the door, and I cowered against the worn leather bench seat. It was no good. Strong hands wrapped around my wrist, hauling me roughly out of the car and onto the baking earth outside.
‘No,’ I cried, batting at them with flailing fists. It was no good. My weakness was no match for them. Two others grabbed me between them, stained uniforms and crushing grips enveloping me. ‘Mama!’
The engine choked as she turned it over, the rust-bucket older than me.
‘Please?’ I screamed. ‘I’m not sick. You can’t leave me here.’
‘I’m not looking after you no more, Ginny.
Not after what you’ve done. You’re worse than a flea-bitten dog.
’ Anger filled Mama’s words. Gone was the soft woman who used to wrap me in her arms and sing sweet songs as she braided my hair.
The love disappeared the first time I came home having lain with a man.
Well, maybe not for the first time. But the first time a baby had stuck.
With each inch my belly grew, my mother withered. And now? She wanted to throw me away like a torn old coat. Me and her grand-baby.
The car grumbled to life as the doctor took my bag from the trunk.
‘Please, Mama! What if they take my baby?’
My mother looked at me one final time, her eyes rimmed red, yet her face set in determination. ‘I hope they do.’
As her rusty old car retreated, my cries grew hoarser and more desperate.
How could she leave me?
I’d never leave my baby.
‘Mama!’ I screamed until my throat ached. She didn’t stop. Didn’t look back.
I sagged against the doctor as the worn gate closed behind her, sealing me into the creepy place. With no one left to fight for me.
And only me left to fight for her.
I needed to find a way out for us both.
To my left, a gathering of black birds descended on something in the grass. The ravens fought and ripped, their beaks gleaming as they tore something meaty to pieces. A shudder ran up my spine.
The white-coated doctor approached me, his face filled with a kindness that calmed my pulse. He stopped in front of me with a smile.
‘I’m not sick,’ I said, my throat sore from the hours of crying on the journey here.
‘No one ever is,’ he said. Lifting a hand, he grazed a thumb over my lower lip as I shuddered. ‘Or so they say.’
I tugged at my arms, trying to fight off the two men who held me.
The doctor let out a sickening chuckle before slapping me hard, sending stars skittering around my skull.
He leaned in close, coffee-and-smoke-tainted breath tickling my lips.
Any kindness fled as he narrowed his eyes, looking from my face to my stomach, heavy with child.
‘When can I go home?’ My words were a shaky whisper. I noted the tag on his coat: Dr. D. Marney.
The doctor tipped his head a touch before gathering one of my tears on his fingertip. I winced as he licked it off.
‘Never.’