I didn’t stop. I had no idea if anyone was watching me, but to say I was stunned would be an understatement. I now knew for certain that I was being manipulated and that the authorities were playing mind games with me–and all the other students. The one thing I couldn’t understand was why?

The Chosen
By

Susan Brown

---

Chapter 7

Previously…

I picked up my shoulder bag and left my room. The pulsing line on the floor indicated the way I should go: according to the indicators, it was about three hundred yards away. As I walked, nodding to my fellow students as I passed them, my mind was on other things. I felt vulnerable and in some danger. My feeling was that I was being manipulated and things were happening that should not have been. I was now rather suspicious that I had not been able to speak to my parents. I did not want my mind messed with as well as my body. I had accepted–all be it reluctantly,–that I was well on the way to becoming a girl and that there was no turning back, but why did they need to manipulate my mind and keep me out of contact with my parents?

Were there others like me who felt that way and, if so, where were they?

I reached the medical facility and the doors swished open. As I entered, I saw several doors to my left and right. Straight in front of me was a desk, behind which sat a nurse in a crisp white uniform. She looked up and smiled as I approached.

‘Hi, Rebecca, hurt your leg have you?’

‘It’s nothing.’

‘We’ll just have a look at it to make sure. Would you like to go through that door and sit in the second room on your left? A doctor will come and see you there shortly.’

I smiled at her and went over to the door which slid open and let me through. I saw the room she mentioned and moved towards it, my heels clicking on the hard floor and echoing slightly as I walked. Glancing to the left I saw another door with a round glass window. I just glanced inside as I passed and almost stopped dead in my tracks. I recognised it. The room was the one in my dream–the operating theatre. I recognised it because there was a painting of the Mona Lisa on the wall––

And now the story continues…

I didn’t stop. I had no idea if anyone was watching me, but to say I was stunned would be an understatement. I now knew for certain that I was being manipulated and that the authorities were playing mind games with me–and all the other students. The one thing I couldn’t understand was why?

Everyone my age knew that there was always a chance that we would be chosen to be transformed and although I was upset, I had kind of accepted it. The very fact that they had chosen to play with our minds as well as our bodies, made me think that there was some sort of agenda going on, of which I was supposed to be unaware.

The mind drugs–if that was what they were–and the hurried and enforced changes that were occurring to my body, made me think that there must be some reason for such haste and the need to mould boys into girls as quckly as possible. Perhaps the situation was worse than I thought. Maybe the human race was coming close to meltdown?

Sitting in the pastel coloured waiting room, I tried to clear my mind of such thoughts, wondering–perhaps with a touch of paranoia–if someone or something might pick up on the fact that I was upset about the situation and delve more deeply. I looked up as the door hissed open and a woman wearing a white doctor’s coat came in and smiled.

‘Hello, Rebecca, been through the wars?’

‘I just grazed my knee, it’s nothing.’

‘Let me be the judge of that, dear. You don’t want to put me out of a rather cushy job, do you?’

‘No.’ I smiled–there was no point in my being antagonistic until I identified the enemy.

‘Right, pop up onto the examination couch and I’ll have a look-see.’

I did as she asked and she put a hand scanner over my knee. It clicked and made other noises and then bleeped.

‘As you say, it isn’t anything too nasty, but it looks as if a tiny shard of glass is still in there so I’d better get it out.’

She used a pair of non-technical tweezers and a magnifying glass and after making the area numb with a pressure injection; she fished around and extracted the offending fragment of glass. It was small, but I suppose it was better out than in.

‘There,’ she said after putting a clear waterproof dressing on my knee, ‘that should do it. Come back in two days and we’ll see if it’s all cleared up. If there’s any pain or discomfort come and see us before that. It must have hurt?’

‘A wee bit.’ I admitted.

‘Well, these things happen. Off you go now.’

‘Thanks, doctor.’

‘That’s all right, dear, that’s what we are here for. We need you guin…I mean students to be nice and healthy.’

As I returned to my room, I wondered about that word she corrected: I had a strong suspicion that she was about to say guinea pig before she corrected herself and that gave me no comfort at all, because I was now pretty sure that that was exactly what we were–guinea pigs.

On entering my room, the disembodied voice of Helena spoke. ‘Everything okay, Rebecca?’

‘Yes, thanks.’

‘You are due in lessons this afternoon, but you are excused this morning.’

‘Thanks; any news?’

‘About what, dear?’

‘My parents.’

‘Not yet; as I said before, as soon as I hear anything I will let you know.’

‘All right, but I am worried.’

‘I know, dear. Would you like to see the counsellor?

‘Erm, not just now, thanks.’

The last thing I wanted was somebody messing around with my brain more than it had been messed about with already.

‘Zinga, please.’

A few seconds later the drink arrived and I fetched it from the service hatch and went to the couch and sat down.

‘News, please.’

The screen lit up and a no service sign showed.

‘Helena, why can’t I see the news?’

‘The service is still down, dear, they hope to have it back up by this evening. The problem is with the service provider, not this end.’

‘How about the net, is the news service down there too?’

‘Yes, I am afraid so. Would you like to listen to some music or a podcast?

‘Not at the moment thanks,’

I sat there nursing my drink and thinking things through. I was very suspicious about the problems with the news services. I needed a plan of action and I wasn’t too sure where to begin. I thought that it would be a good idea to make a mental list of what my plan of action was going to be. I was good at mental lists–my parents had taught me how to memorise things in a structured way using my near photographic memory.

The last thing I wanted to do was to put my thoughts down on any sort of media that could be read. That ruled out my uPad and mini uPad. Paper was out too, as that could be read easily. No, I had to rely on memory and that alone. The problem was that I was very aware of the mind manipulation that had been used on me. What was I going to do to retain my thoughts?

I wracked my brain and then something my Dada told me popped in my head. It was the year before, on one of their rare breaks at home. Mummy was in the kitchen trying to cook–well, she loved hands-on and didn’t always like what the ’puter had on offer.

My father and I were in his study: it was half term and for once, I did not have to stay in school. He was looking at me with a strange expression.

‘John, you know that any time now, boys are going to be selected for transformation?’

I fidgeted uncomfortably in my seat, ‘Yes, Dad.’

‘Well, if you are selected, strange things might happen to you.’

‘What sort of strange things?’

‘Well, for a start, you would be on drugs and drugs can affect different people in different ways. Look, I don’t want to worry you, but I think that it would be a good idea to try to stay focussed in all of this. Some of the drugs might alter the way you think, for example, girls think differently to boys and one of the things that the drugs maydo –and I emphasise may, because I am not entirely sure–would be to start you start thinking and behaving more like a girl. They will also have psychiatrists and counsellors who would be trying to help and ease your way into transformation.’

‘What are you getting at, Dad?’

He sighed and looked into the distance and then turned back to me. ‘What I am trying to “get at”, as you put it, is that you do not want to lose who you are. Things may seem fine and they probably will be, but somehow you must try to remember your past and who you are. Being in the government service, means that certain steps were taken to help protect me in the event of capture by hostiles and I was referred to a psychiatrist who used–amongst other things–hypnotic suggestion to construct a firewall, if you like, in my brain behind which was a place where I could keep thoughts that were essential to me. I have been in places where there has been a danger to my life, especially since the world has turned upside down; so it was needed. Your mother has been through it too. Trigger words are used and without going into too many details, I think that it wouldn’t be a bad idea for you to have a safe place in your mind which, at least, would be resistant to altering.’

‘So how do I get this?’

‘As it happens, I’m still in contact with the psychiatrist–he’s a friend of long standing–and he will help you. He’s coming to dinner tonight and will see you afterwards.’

‘Is this cloak and dagger stuff really necessary, Dad?’

‘I hope not, but better be safe than sorry.’

The funny thing was I never remembered at the time any talk with a psychiatrist but I do remember the conversation with my Dada.

Other things popped up inside my head. I knew what the trigger word was…Dada.

It was much like a jigsaw puzzle that seemed to be more complete every time I thought about things. I knew that I had a safe place now in my mind where I could store memories. I had to use the trigger word and then concentrate hard on the thoughts that were important to me. Once that was done the close trigger word was Mummy. I don’t know how I knew this but accepted that fact as true.

I had an idea and pulled out my mini UPad and keyed in a reminder every morning to try to contact Dada. Anyone else including the friendly, but now somehow sinister, Helena would think that the note was just my concern about my parents, but it would, I hope, trigger any memories that I needed to hold on to.

I was sure that at some stage I would get all foggy again and not remember things that needed remembering. The drugs I had been given were strong and not just for changing the physical side of me. I hoped that the safeguards I now had would help me to remember who I really was. I suppose that I could throw myself on something sharp to remind me, but for some reason I didn’t fancy that and anyway, if I was too far gone, I wouldn’t remember the need to do it!

I considered the possibility of trying to avoid taking the medication, but realised that it was impossible because we were all so closely monitored. I even wondered whether I could take the meds and then go to the loo and make myself sick, but knowing the lengths the school had taken to spy on each and every one of us, I would be very surprised if the toilets and other so-called ‘private’ areas were not under constant surveillance.

No, I would have to trust in my safe place and hope to get through this without my mind being changed beyond all recognition.

I turned my thoughts as to what I could do now. I needed to find out if anyone else felt as I did, or were all the students so brainwashed that there was no hope for any of them. I couldn’t believe that I was the only one to question what was happening here. Then I thought about Davina. She had changed from a boy, incredibly upset and antsy about what was happening, into a docile, feminine girl. I wondered if that was true or just an act. I would have to get her by herself and see how genuine her ‘girliness’ was.

Lunch was a good time and looking at my finger watch, I noted that it was nearly lunchtime.

I met the other girls in the cafeteria. After the now usual squealing, hug ritual, we ate our meal and I took my meds like a good little girl. Watching Davina as she chatted with the others about the usual topics–boys, clothes, weddings, babies and more boys,–I could see little sign of the boy who I had known up to just a few days ago.

Of course I made sure that I was just as girlie as everyone else, joining in and making the right noises like the others. The conditioning–or whatever you would call it–was still strong in me and I have to say that it didn’t feel strange to act like this; it was normal for my new feminised persona. I may have been a boy once, but the thought of returning to being one, literally made me feel queasy.

I had a bit of luck, because an urgent staff meeting meant that lessons had been cancelled for the rest of the day. This gave Bethany the opportunity to go and have her nails done. Both Davina and I had only had ours done the previous day, so we sent a happy Bethany off to the manicurist and went out into the gardens to look at the flowers and have a stroll around the fountains, arm in arm.

Quite a few of the other girls were outside taking advantage of the mild day and generally happy at having a bonus time off of our hectic school schedules.

I steered Davina towards the fountains and we sat on one of the benches. Sweeping my skirt under my bum, I sat down. The clothes felt very natural to me and I loved the softness that seemed to be lacking in boys clothes. Davina was gazing at the fountains as the jets of water danced and played before us. Surreptitiously, I looked around and saw that no one was near. Davina was talking excitedly about a dress that she had found at the back of her wardrobe.

‘It’s lovely–pink and floaty. It felt wonderful when I tried it on. I adored the lace on the collar and hem and it’s so shear, I have to wear a slip underneath to hide my modesty.’ She sounded like she had consumed a Jane Austin novel rather than poached salmon at lunch and it took some moments before she subsided and came back down to Earth.

‘Davina,’ I said in a break of conversation, ‘Erm, how do you feel about being a girl?’

She turned to me and I swear that I saw a flicker of some sort in her eyes.

‘What do you mean?’ she said.

‘Well, you were very upset at first. You seemed to find it difficult to accept that you were being changed. Then you had some therapy and all of a sudden you are happy with all this.’

‘I am happy. I have found myself and would never want to change back into a boy again.’

The way she said it had an element of falsehood to it. She looked scared as if she was afraid of being found out in some sort of terrible lie. I wasn’t convinced. I was pretty sure that we couldn’t be overheard with the racket the fountains were making, but I didn’t want to raise my voice too much.

‘Look, Davina, I’m your friend. We weren’t that close at the boys’ school, but you know I’m the sort of person that wouldn’t lie to you.’

She looked at me, her eyes wide and feminine; the shape of her face, subtly different and softer after the medications did their work on her body as they had done with mine.

She slowly shook her head and glanced around–obviously frightened.

‘I can see that you are holding back. I am going to trust you, Davina, not to say anything to anyone about this but I think we’re being manipulated and abused so that they can make the perfect women–women that can give birth to girls. Our drinks are drugged. We have surgery while we are asleep and they play mind games with us. Please trust me, Davina, I swear on my parents lives that I am telling the truth.’

She looked at me, a tear appearing in the corner of each eye and then running down her face.

‘I…I…I hate this. I hate being called Davina and I want to be a boy. But…but they took my manhood away from me and I knew I–I couldn’t fight it. They’re too strong. So I’ve pretended to like all of this and hold on to being a boy, deep inside. It’s been so hard, I–I was sure that they were messing with my brain. Every morning I wake up and feel more and more like a girl. My penis has nearly disappeared and my breasts are growing daily. I found some puncture marks on my body and I’m finding it harder and harder to fight this “treatment” or whatever they call it. I’ve tried to speak to my parents but evidently they are away on holiday. It’s funny, they never told me that they were going away.’

She fell silent, her tears dripping on her skirt. I gave her a tissue and she wiped her eyes. Looking around, we were still being ignored. In the near distance, some girls were playing a game with a ball and, thankfully, they were being rather noisy.

She glanced around and then leaned closer. ‘I—I’ve had to try to keep remembering that I’m David.’

‘How?’ I asked.

She looked around again and then pulled up the sleeve of her cardigan. On her arm were some angry looking scratches that had bled and looked very raw.

‘The pain keeps the fog away. It hurts, but that is better than forgetting who I am. It’s the only use for long nails that I can think of.’

‘Oh, Davina, they do look sore. I’m surprised that they haven’t picked up on it. We are so closely monitored.’

‘I know. All I put it down too is the fact that as I am now so accepting to being a girl, I’m no danger to them.’

‘It can’t last. With all the physical aspects of our treatment they’re sure to find out.’

‘Then I’ll say that I had a terrible itch and kept scratching myself.’

‘You ought to do something else to keep your memories. I’ll have a think about it. but we have to decide what to do about all this.’

‘I know. I want to escape but it seems like we’re prisoners.’

‘I wonder if the older, four or five petals are allowed out?’

‘Alysia, you know, the four petal who sometimes eats with us, says that her group are allowed out. I suppose that they are so conditioned, they pose as no threat.’

Out of the corner of my eye I espied a few older girls approaching us. They were engrossed in conversation, but you never know.

‘Look it’s dangerous to be talking like this for a long time. Let’s try and get out tomorrow at lunch time and see if we can come up with some sort of plan. I’m hoping that a few of the girls here feel like us.’

‘All right; I’m pleased that I’m not the only sane one in this madhouse!’

Yes,’ I laughed, ‘now let’s go back arm in arm talking about that dress of yours and how wonderfully pretty you look in it!’

~ §~

The afternoon was spent in the gym and swimming pool, larking about. After a sweaty and strenuous session in the gym, it was time for us to cool down in the Olympic sized swimming pool.

The one piece bathing costumes–pink of course–left very little to the imagination. Any lumps and bumps on show were quite feminine. Looking down at myself, there was only a tiny bulge between my legs that showed a virtual absence of any penis to speak of. My breasts, although small compared with some of the other girls, were prominent and quite noticeable.

I tried to take my mind off things and swam several lengths. I seemed more buoyant than before and assumed that my fat distribution–larger bum and added breasts–was a contributing factor in this. Davina seemed to be all girlie again and giggled a lot with Bethany. I did my best to keep up with them but must admit to not being in their class.

I kept going back to the conversation that I’d had with Davina. It was heartening to know that there was at least one other person who did not accept what was happening. If there was one, maybe there were two or ten–who knows?

As usual, after dinner, most of us were quite tired. It was unusual for any of us to stay out of our rooms past eight in the evening. So after the usual hugs and kisses, I said goodbye to my friends and went to my room. I had given Davina an extra squeeze on the arm as we embraced and she nodded gently and smiled. She felt the same as me. I was sure.

As the door slilently closed behind me and the lights came on I was greeted as usual by the ever present Helena.

‘Hello, Rebecca, have you had a nice day?’

‘Yes thanks, tiring but fine.’

‘That’s good. How is your leg?’

I looked down at my bare leg and the waterproof dressing. I had not thought about it all day.

‘It’s all right. No pain, but I’ll have to go to the medical centre to have it checked though in a few days. Any news about my parents.’

‘Yes, I think that they have sent you a message. It’s in code and going through decipher at the moment. By the time you have changed, it should be ready for you.’

‘That’s great!’ I enthused as I ran into the bathroom and undressed. As usual, I got ready for bed, even though it was still quite early. Experience had shown me that I tended to zonk out by about nine and didn’t want to fuss about changing later. So my old clothes went straight down the chute and I picked out a particularly lovely peach coloured, long satin nightdress with matching panties and robe. The material felt divine against my hairless skin and if it wasn’t for all the nagging doubts and worries I had, I would have gladly just gone with the flow and become uber girl.

Then I smiled as I realised once again that I would be seeing my parents. It was a vidi-message, but at least I could see and hear them again!

Soon I was back in the bedroom sitting with some piping hot chocolate, on the couch waiting anxiously to see my parents once again.

‘The message has come through, Rebecca; would you like to see it?’

‘What do you think Helena? Please show it!’

The lights dimmed and the vidi screen changed from the school logo to a room thousands of miles away that I recognised as the personal quarters of my parents. Mummy was sitting on a chair and Dada was standing behind her. They were both looking healthy but perhaps a bit pale.

Mummy spoke first. ‘Hello, darling. We’ve missed you so much. I am sorry we can’t speak live but the situation here is still a bit fragile and the recording has had to go via our friends at the Swedish Embassy. It was a bit hot here for a few days but things are settling down. Your principal has kindly sent us some pictures of you. You are so lovely and we are both proud to call you our daughter.’

My eyes swelled with tears as she spoke and then Dada spoke.

‘Rebecca, we are so very proud of you and know that you’re going through a lot of hard things at the moment. You must take courage and do the best you can to make things work for you. Don’t have any doubts about your course of action. I know that you are doing the right thing. Being a girl is not a sentence, it’s a privilege. I know that your dear aunt feels the same and would love to see you again. If the principal allows it, you must contact her and let her see what a lovely girl you now are. Well we have to go now, but don’t forget we love you and are proud of you, goodbye, honey.’

‘Goodbye, my darling,’ said Mummy choking slightly on her words.

The screen changed back to the school crest and the lights faded up again. I was in a bit of a state and it took a few moments to pull myself together.

‘Do you need to see your personal counsellor, Rebecca? She is on call.’

‘No thank you, Helena. I’ll be all right in a moment.’

I wiped my eyes with a tissue and then after finishing my drink, I went to bed.

‘Good night, Rebecca.’

‘G’night,’ I replied sleepily.

~ §~

When I woke up, it was still dark. Gazing upwards I could see the ceiling light indicated that it was three thirty in the morning.

I was wide awake, the obvious sleeping draught in my hot drink had worn off. I was finding it difficult to concentrate on any one thing and my groin and breasts ached a bit. I was not tired, but quite happy really. I felt under the covers and pulled up the hem of my nightie. Feeling inside my panties, I searched around my groin area. My penis was now no longer protruding and was almost flush with my body–just a small nub of flaccid flesh above the empty sac that once housed my genitals.

I felt no surprise at this. In fact I accepted it with joy. I then felt my breasts and discovered they had grown larger; I shivered slightly as my hand brushed against an erect nipple. I would have liked to have got up to inspect my revised body, but although I was quite awake, I was comfortable, warm and somewhat lethargic.

As I lay there, staring at the ceiling, I smiled as I recalled the vid of my parents last night. It was so good to see them and I would be counting the days until I saw them again. It was wonderful that they were now safe and that I had no need to worry about them any longer. Yes, the world was still very unsafe, but I trusted that the authorities would look after them and keep them out of harm’s way.

I scratched my leg and noticed with surprise that the dressing on my knee had been removed. In fact, feeling for the scratch, I could find no trace of it. That was strange but I just mentally shrugged –it wasn’t important.

At the back of my mind, I sort of recalled a conversation with Davina in the park by the fountain, but for the life of me, I couldn’t remember what the conversation was about. Then I smiled as I did remember that she was happy to have found a lovely dress in her wardrobe. I looked forward to seeing her in it tomorrow–well today really!

I yawned,feeling inexplicably tired again and then turned over and shut my eyes.

~ §~

I was awoken by the sound of gentle wind chimes. The lights came up slowly and I opened my eyes. Stretching, I felt incredibly well and ready for the exciting day ahead.

‘Good morning, Rebecca.’

‘’Morning, Helena. What am I doing today?’

‘Deportment class after breakfast. You have fifty two minutes to get ready. You are to wear formal day wear.’

‘What shall I chose?’

‘Your clothes have been laid out for you.’

‘That’s good. I am not sure about what goes with what yet.’

‘You will learn soon, dear.’

‘I hope so. I do so love being pretty!’

I got up and padded over to the bathroom, taking my nightie and panties off and putting them down the chute as I passed it. I was very aware of my breasts swaying slightly as I walked. It was strange but rather pleasant sensation. After a refreshing and boob-tingling shower I paused to look at my reflection in the full length mirror.

I gazed at my naked body and marvelled at how different I looked from the time that I was a mere boy. My face was obviously feminine, narrow with nice wide eyes, long lashes, shaped eyebrows and a pert little nose that turned up very gently at the end. My lips were full and naturally red and suited my face to perfection. My neck was slim with no sign of an Adams apple. My body could never be mistaken for a boy. Looking at my breasts, I saw that they were now pert and somewhat larger than just a few days before with large, dark areolas.

My waist was much narrower now and more curvy and my bottom seemed to have more padding, but what really took my attention and confirmed what I felt the previous night was that my penis had all but disappeared inside my groin. I wondered how much longer I would have to wait before I no longer had it and was transformed into a true female who could produce baby girls.

Before returning to the bedroom to get dressed, I went to the toilet. Unfortunately, I made rather a mess of things as I could now no long direct my penis downwards and also I noticed some more traces of blood as I sat down and sprayed as I urinated.

I cleaned myself up as best I could, and then after washing my hands thoroughly, went back into the bedroom.

‘Helena.’

‘Yes, dear?’

‘I am having a lot of trouble using the toilet. It’s messy.’

‘That isn’t unusual, dear.’

‘And I am bleeding a bit.’

‘Once again, it is to be expected. You have a gynae and urology examination this afternoon at fourteen hundred hours. Please do not have any food before that.’

‘No breakfast then?’

‘No, you can go to the kitchens afterwards if you are hungry. Mention your concerns to the doctor.’

‘All right,’ I said as I proceeded to get dressed.

I went down to breakfast with the others. Davina kept giving me funny looks for some reason, but I ignored it. She can be a funny girl sometimes.

I just had some juice with my meds that morning but felt quite hungry as everyone else was having cooked breakfasts. I excused myself as soon as possible as Davina was being annoying and anyway, I didn’t want to watch them feeding their faces while I had to make do with juice.

I went back to my room and just sat and distractedly read a girlie magazine while waiting to go to deportment class. I was to meet Bethany and Davina there.

As I flicked through the glossy pages, I wondered what was up with Davina at breakfast, as a couple of times she had kicked my shins under the table and waggled her eyebrows at me. I had got a bit annoyed at that and just gave her a dirty look and carried on talking to Bethany about what was the best shade of lipstick when going out on a date with a boy for the first time. She was all for red, but I thought that that was a bit slutty.

Shrugging my shoulders, I looked at my finger watch and was just about to get up when my mini uPad chimed and vibrated. Picking it up, I looked at the message flashing up on the screen in a rather vivid red colour.

Talk To Dada

It was as if a door opened up in my mind and the mist lifted. I leaned back in my chair and took a deep breath. My hands were shaking as I held the uPad and I started to sweat. Suddenly with clarity, I remembered the conversation that I had with my parents and Davina yesterday. I recalled all the worries that I had about this place and how we were being abused. I remembered what my father told me as I recalled the vid-cast last night. I swear that there was a coded message in there and it took just a moment to realise what he had been telling me. It was about my aunt again. He had mentioned about my knowing her–which I didn’t–and then that I must contact her. Maybe she would help me if I could somehow escape?

‘I must find a way to speak to Davina again,’ I thought, ‘no wonder she was reacting strangely to me…’

‘Rebecca, time for your class; you don’t want to be late!’

‘Oh…right,’ I said getting up and smoothing down my school skirt.

‘Have a nice day, Rebecca.’

‘Erm–thanks, Helena.’ I said as the door swooshed open and I hurried out and down the corridor to my class.

I was the last one in and that got a stern look from the teacher. I mouthed a sorry and sat next to Bethany. I frowned slightly as I couldn’t see Davina anywhere. I didn’t have time to ask Bethany where she was as the teacher started the rather intensive lesson right away.

~ §~

An hour and a half later, the lesson was over. I don’t think that I took even half of what she was saying in and the teacher, Ms Park called me over as the others filed out.

‘Rebecca, you did not appear to be with us today. Do you have a problem?’

‘Erm, no, not really,’ I replied, trying to think on my feet, ‘Erm, I have medical examination later and I’m worried about it.’

Her rather severe features softened somewhat. ‘Don’t worry, dear. They are good doctors here and will do all they can to help you. These examinations are vital to your health. Now run along or you will miss your break time.’

‘Thank you, Ms Park.’

‘You’re welcome, dear.’

I ran out and caught up the others. Bethany was talking to Stacy as I approached. ‘–so I said to Lisa, you should really try green, with your auburn hair it would suit you––’

‘Beth, can I have a word?’ I said, touching her arm.

‘Okay, see you in a minute, Stacy–’

I pulled her over to the side and waited until the others went on ahead.

‘Bethany, where’s Davina?’

‘What are you whispering for? Didn’t you know, she was called to the medical centre just after breakfast. I don’t know why. Mind you, she was as white as a sheet when she got up. P’raps she’s caught some sort of bug–?’

---

To be continued…

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My thanks go to the brilliant and lovely Gabi for editing, help with the plot-lines and pulling the story into shape.