Page 3 of Isle of Pain

“Yes, we can operate next week and remove your uterus, Lisa. Because you’re in stage two and the cancer has spread, we’ll also remove the cervix.”

“No.”

I look at my sister. Her eyes are full of tears that won’t fall but her shoulders are set and she has this fierce aura that I know and love about her. Right now, I hate it with all that I am. I hate her resolve so much I want to shake her so she sees reason. I want to slap her, yell at her.

And I do nothing.

I just watch as Dr Olmeto explains the risk of going through with the pregnancy and her chance of survival after.

I finally find my voice. “Lili, you can’t be serious.”

“I’m very serious, Mimi. Having a child is all I’ve ever wanted,” she argues. “I’m not giving her up. There’s a ninety percent chance of survival.”

“The first year! What about five years from now? How much then?” I yell and turn my gaze to the doctor who grimaces but answers, “Seventy-five percent”.

“That’s a twenty-five percent chance of dying. For what? An embryo? You can adopt. You can live.”

I stand and pace back and forth in the tiny office space, crawling out of my skin. Anger rises in my veins and I have nowhere to fucking put it.

“I know, Mimi, but that's not what I want,” my sister says, her voice way too compassionate, too placating. “This is my only chance to be pregnant. I’m taking it and I don’t care what you think. I love you more than anything in this world, but this is for me.” She turns to her ob/gyn. “I’ll be in touch.” Then she says to me, “Don’t follow me, I can’t be close to you right now.”

I watch her back, her long black hair swaying side to side as she leaves.

I sit back down and press my hands to my eyes, hoping to pierce them until I reach my brain and get it out of my head. My heart breaks into shards that lay at my feet in a bloody display of pain and exhaustion.

Dr Olmeto hands me a card. “This is a colleague of mine. They’re a psychiatrist. Think about it.”

I take the card and nod, my vision blurred with tears. I have no plans of using it and throw it in the trash on my way out.

I don’t tell the good doctor that it doesn’t matter that Lisa lives right now. I can already see the sombre shadow surrounding her and I bet when I’ll reach for the bottle in my bag and find myself at the bottom of it later tonight, it’ll have magnified to encompass her entire being. I’m gonna lose her andall I can do is watch as she destroys herself for a life that isn’t even born.

2

NICO

TRUST YOUR INSTINCTS

The collar around my throat tightens as the dominatrix pulls on it to get me to follow her around Absolution, the club I own. My knees and palms scrape against the cool marble floor as I crawl on all fours, denim chafing where it meets the onyx surface. The sound of her heels in front of me echoes in my ears, a rhythmictac tacon two beats.

I prefer the number three. Always have. Two can easily become one. Three is indivisible. Technically both two and three are prime numbers, but I don’t like two. I can’t explain it, it’s a feeling in the fabric of who I am.

I usually enjoy this particular brand of humiliation—being paraded around on my knees—but this new play partner has not followed my demands when it comes to punishments and rewards.

She’s new. And soft.

Dressed in nothing but black lace, her leather boots travel all the way up her thighs and indent her skin in what most would consider an enticing fashion. I think it looks tacky.

I give her the benefit of the doubt but deep down, I know our incompatibility.

This person doesn’t want submission or control, she wants attention and that’s one thing I’m not giving freely. Especially since my mind never shuts up and usually either replays the conversations of the day or the nightmares of the fire that consumed my father’s life.

The only way to shut the window to my past is for the whip to lick my skin until I bleed. It’s for my partner to take control of me until all I see is them.

Shedoesn’t have what it takes, I can tell. My mind is already drawn to watch the feet of everyone else in the club. I’m not focused on her as I should be. As she should demand.

My profile is explicitly set to masochist. If you’re not a sadist, don’t even bother playing with me. I need pain before I need anything else. I certainly don’t want strangers to touch me.

She did.

---