I fidget on the uncomfortable bed waiting for the man who would masquerade as a doctor. Stroking my still flat stomach invokes a fluttering within, it must be anxiety, it is too soon to feel movement.
I clutch the roll of banknotes tightly Jimmy had thrust upon me to ‘sort myself out’.
“Miss Jones?’ the nurse offers a pen, “you haven’t signed your consent form”.
I turn my head towards the window, conscious of the people below boarding the boat. A fresh start.
Handing the nurse my unsigned form and my shame I leave on trembling legs.
A new life awaits.
Written for Friday Fictioneers. A 100 word story inspired by a photo prompt.