Page 3 of Bought and Enjoyed

SELECTA Europe Scholarships Team

Relief and excitement flooded through me, chasing away my fatigue. I’d passed! I allowed myself a moment of giddy celebration, twirling around my tiny kitchen. The morning crawled by as I showered, dressed, and attempted to eat something despite my churning stomach.

At 12:45, I arrived at the University Health Center, my nerves jangling. The antiseptic smell hit me as soon as I stepped through the sliding glass doors, making my stomach lurch. I approached the reception desk on unsteady legs.

“Alice Morgan, here for a one o’clock appointment,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

The receptionist, a middle-aged woman with kind eyes, looked up from her computer. Her gaze swept over me, and something in her expression made my skin prickle. Was that… pity in her eyes?

“Of course, dear,” she said softly. “Please have a seat. Someone will be with you shortly.”

I settled into one of the hard plastic chairs in the waiting area, my mind racing. Why had the receptionist looked at me like that? It was just a routine medical exam, wasn’t it? But then why did I feel like I was waiting for my own execution?

After what felt like an eternity but was probably only a few minutes, a door opened. “Alice Morgan?” called a crisp voice.

I stood, smoothing my skirt with damp palms. The nurse who’d called my name was tall and lean, with close-cropped silver hair. Her face was impassive as she beckoned me to follow her down a long hallway.

We stopped before a nondescript door. The nurse pushed it open, revealing a stark examination room. My heart rate sped up as I took in the gleaming metal surfaces, the instruments atop a cart, and the exam table in the center.

I stepped into the room, my heart pounding. The nurse closed the door behind us with a soft click that seemed to echo in the sterile space.

“Please remove all your clothing and place it on the chair,” she instructed, her tone brisk and professional.

I blinked, taken aback. “Um, don’t I get a gown or something?”

The nurse’s expression didn’t change. “That won’t be necessary for this examination. Please disrobe completely.”

My cheeks burned as I hesitantly began to unbutton my blouse. The nurse busied herself with something on the metal tray, giving me a semblance of privacy. I stripped down to my underwear, then paused, my fingers on the clasp of my bra.

“Everything, dear,” the nurse prompted without turning around.

Swallowing hard, I removed my bra and panties, folding them neatly atop the pile of my clothes. I stood there, naked and shivering, my arms crossed over my chest in a futile attempt at modesty.

“Just step on the scale for me, please,” the nurse said.

I did, and the nurse recorded the result—of which I felt some pride—without comment, then measured my height.

“Up on the table, please,” she said. “Go ahead and lie back.”

I climbed onto the exam table, the paper crinkling beneath me. As I reclined, something caught my eye that made my blood run cold. Webbing straps, with Velcro fastenings, hung from the sides of the table, clearly meant to restrain a patient’s wrists and ankles.

“W-why are there restraints?” I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper.

My heart pounded as I stared at them, a chill running through my naked body. The nurse’s expression remained impassive as she approached the table.

“It’s a standard precaution,” she said calmly. “Nothing to be concerned about.”

But alarm bells were ringing in my head. This was far from standard. I sat up, ready to bolt for the door.

“I don’t think I want to go through with this,” I said, my voice shaking. “I’ll just leave and give up my spot in the program.”

The nurse’s eyes flashed with something—pity? Regret? No…

Disapproval.I swallowed hard, my cheeks flushing hot.

“You’ll understand soon, dear,” she said softly. “Or you may leave and, yes, give up your spot in the program. But you and I both know you won’t do that. This opportunity won’t come again.”

I hesitated, torn between my instinct to flee and my desperate desire to salvage my academic dreams. What would happen if I stayed? But what future did I have if I left?