Page 61 of Chaotic Curse
“I need to tell your father,” the doctor says.“Get dressed, and we’ll talk in my office.”
My father?I got this because one of his associates was infected and gave it to me.I’m only sixteen years old, and I’ve had an abortion already.Now this?
My father can’t force me to entertain his associates while I’m contagious.
He’s going to be angry.Of course he won’t say anything like this in front of the doctor.
No.He’ll play the concerned parent, tell the doctor he’ll give me a talking-to about abstaining from sex, or at least using protection.
His wrath will wait until we’re home.
I dress hastily and a nurse collects me and leads me to the doctor’s office.My father is there, looking stern but not raging.
He’ll save that for later.
The doctor arrives and sits down.
“Mr.Agudelo,” she begins, “Daniela has been diagnosed with chlamydia.It’s a sexually transmitted infection but treatable with antibiotics, which I’m going to prescribe now.”
His face hardens, but he nods, giving nothing away.“Thank you, Doctor, for your prompt attention to my daughter’s health.”He turns to me.“Are you okay,querida?”
Right.Like he cares.He’s never called mequeridain my life.
“I’m uncomfortable but otherwise I feel fine,” I say without emotion.
“Good, good.”He smiles.
What a fake.
The doctor clears her throat.“I’ve prescribed a week-long course for Daniela.She’ll need to come back in a month’s time for a follow-up.”
My father nods, his expression unreadable.“All right,” he says, maintaining his calm façade.“Will that be all, Doctor?”
The doctor looks at me and then back at my father.“Yes, that would be all.Please ensure she takes the medication consistently and completes the course.”
The car ride home is silent.The tension is palpable, a storm cloud ready to burst.I sit in the back seat and watch the passing buildings outside.I’m terrified.Terrified of my father’s reaction.Terrified of the punishment that will surely come.
As we pull into our driveway, my father finally speaks.“Go to your room.”
His voice is cold, devoid of any emotion.I nod, clambering out of the car and rushing inside the house.I rush past the kitchen, ignoring the curious glances of our housekeeper.
I retreat to the safety of my room, closing the door softly behind me.I collapse onto my bed, a wave of exhaustion washing over me.I want to cry, to scream, to let out all the anger and sadness.
But I don’t.
My father will come to me.
He will punish me for this, even though it’s the fault of one of his business associates.
My father will come.
It’s only a matter of when.
The minutes tick by, each one agonizingly slow, each one amplifying the dread coiling in my stomach.I feel like a lamb waiting for slaughter, as if I’m suspended on the precipice of a cliff, awaiting the push that will send me spiraling into the abyss below.
A knock on the door makes me jump, my heart pounding against my chest.I don’t respond.Maybe if I stay silent, he’ll go away.
“Daniela.”His voice is cold, emotionless, a stark contrast to his usual fiery temper.“Open the door.”
