Flushing a Life
Scarlett’s eyes widened in shock. “What do you mean by ‘what you’ve done before’?”
Lily turned to her, a dark, bitter chuckle escaping her lips. “Don’t you understand anything I’ve told you? This is my fifth month at this school. With how many times I’ve been violated during my heats… do you really think I wouldn’t have gotten pregnant by now?”
Scarlett’s heart slammed against her ribs, each beat loud and unsteady. Everything she was hearing felt unreal like she’d stumbled into some dark, sick, twisted movie that refused to end. “You mean to tell me… you’ve gotten rid of a child before?”
Lily raised a brow, her expression sharp. “Abortion. Say it. It’s not a crime, is it? We Omegas are more than breeding machines. We have the right to decide whether to keep a child or not.” Her voice came out defensive, edged with something raw and wounded.
Scarlett lifted her hands quickly. “I’m not saying it like that. I’m pro-choice, it’s your body, your decision. I’m just… surprised you’ve had to do this before.”
“I know, right?” Lily’s laugh was hollow, almost brittle. “If someone had told me before I came here that I’d have my virginity ripped away by more than a dozen people, that I’d end up flushing a life out of me… you know what I would’ve done?”
Scarlett shook her head slowly, throat too tight to speak.
Lily stared down at the ground between them, her fingers twisting the hem of her skirt until the fabric strained and threatened to tear. Her shoulders hunched, as though the weight of every memory was pressing her smaller.
“I would have slit my throat,” she repeated, quieter this time. “Every single day I wake up and think about it. The only thing stopping me is Milo. He’s the only reason I’m still breathing.”
She took a shaky breath.
“He’s not much better off. He belongs to two dominant Alphas, not Triumvirate level, but strong enough. They don’t take him during his heats because they don’t want him pregnant. They actually protect him when the Purge falls on a heat day. Lock him in their room. Guard the door. It’s… twisted,
but it’s the closest thing to mercy we get here.”
Her voice cracked on the last word.
I swallowed hard, my throat raw. “How… how do you do it? The abortion?”
Lily’s eyes flicked up, sharp for a second, like she was surprised I’d asked. Then she shrugged, defeated.
“There’s an Omega in North Wing, third floor, room 312. Everyone calls her Doc. She runs a little black-market business out of her dorm. Suppressants, heat-inducers for the ones who actually like the Purge, morning-after pills, abortion meds. Whatever you need to survive this place.”
She laughed again, bitter. “Some Omegas beg for the heat drugs. They want the high, the attention, the ‘power’ of being desired. They walk into the Purge like it’s a party. Doc makes bank off them too.”
I felt sick.
“She gets the abortion pills from outside, smuggled in somehow. Costs a fortune, but it works. Quiet. No questions. You take them, bleed for a few days, and it’s over. Like it never happened.”
Her hand drifted to her stomach again, fingers pressing lightly, almost tenderly.
“I’ve done it twice already,” she whispered. “This will be the third.”
The words hung between us, heavy as stones.
I wanted to say something, anything that would make this less horrific. But there was nothing.
Lily looked at me, eyes glassy but fierce. “Don’t let them break you, Scar. Fight. Hide. Beg the Triumvirate if you have to. Just… don’t end up like me.”
She stood abruptly, wiping her face with the sleeve of her uniform.
“I need to go see Doc before anyone notices.”
She started to walk away, then paused.
“Your heat’s close,” she said without turning. “I can smell it. Be ready.”
Then she was gone, disappearing between the trees.
I sat there alone on the bench, the park suddenly too quiet, the sunlight too bright.
My hand trembled as I pressed it to my own stomach.
Not yet.
But soon.
And when it came…
I didn’t know if I was strong enough to survive what waited.
****
I flopped down on the bed in my dorm and stared at the ceiling.
The room that had felt like freedom just weeks ago now felt like a prettier cage.
This wasn’t a dream come true.
It was a nightmare.
Lily’s words kept looping in my head.
Purge. Rape. Abortion. Breeding houses.
And the worst part: she’d said them like they were normal. Like survival.
I couldn’t do this.
I couldn’t stay here.
My hands shook as I pulled out my phone.
I scrolled to the contact labeled “Dad” and hit call before I could talk myself out of it.
It rang once. Twice. The third time, he picked up.
“Yeah?” His voice was rough, distracted, like he’d already forgotten who was calling.
“Dad,” I said, my throat tight. “It’s me.”
A pause. Background noise, voices, papers rustling, someone laughing.
“Who is this?”
The words hit like a slap.
“Your daughter,” I whispered. “Scarlett.”
Another pause.
“Oh. Right. What is it, Scarlett?”
Tears stung my eyes. “Dad, I want to come home. Please come get me. I can’t…”
He wasn’t listening. I heard him shout to someone else, muffled but sharp. “No, tell them the deal’s off if they don’t sign by Friday!”
I waited.
Three full minutes.
He was talking to someone else, laughing, completely forgetting I was on the line.
“Dad?” I finally said, voice small.
“Huh?” A rustle, like he’d just remembered the phone. “You’re still there? What, you need money? I’ll send some.”
“No, Dad, that’s not…”
“Don’t worry, I’ll transfer it now. Gotta go.”
The line went dead.
I stared at the screen.
Two minutes later, my phone buzzed.
Notification: $2,000 deposited to your account.
From: Ronan O’Hara (on behalf of Dad)
No message. No “Are you okay?” No “What’s wrong?”
Just money.
Like that could fix anything.
Like I was a problem that could be solved with a transfer.
The tears came then, hot, silent, unstoppable.
I curled on my side, hugging my knees to my chest.
He hadn’t even asked why I was crying.
He didn’t care.
No one did.
I was alone here.
Truly, completely alone.
And the Purge was coming.