The Pain that Made Her Beautiful

PMHB ch33

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~JDB

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Martha and Bernice appeared quickly and tenderly picked Neorah up. When they set her on her feet, Neorah cried out in pain. What has he done to another innocent virgin this time! Martha thought infuriated.

She was lucky that he did not find interest in her or Bernice. They were too old for Brenden’s type: no older than twenty-eight, as Brenden was nearing thirty-one.

They carefully, step by step, brought Neorah to the large basin. This was not the one that Brenden used, thank the gods. They gently helped Neorah step into the basin. She shrieked when she stepped, first one foot then the other, into the basin. She was a bloody mess.

“Bernice, go wash that gown as best as you can,” Martha said to the slightly younger woman.

Bernice nodded and scurried off to do as she was told.

Martha checked the water before she let Neorah sit in it to be sure that it wasn’t too hot for her traumatized body. She dipped her finger in the water and felt it was a bit too cold. Martha pulled the cord next to the basin and heard as the furnace began to be fed coal and heated the pool quickly. When it was at the proper temperature, Martha pulled another cord and the furnace was simply stoked.

“Come here, dear. Lean on my arms while I help you under,” Martha said sweetly.

Neorah weakly fell against her arms and slowly let Martha lower her into the warm water. She sobbed loudly as water rose to her lower hip, shaking violently. Martha continued to submerge the poor soul until she slouched on a stool on the edge, her chin barely above the water.

Martha found the softest, clean rag she could and said, “Dear, I will do my best to be gentle, but we must wash you off.”

Neorah weakly looked at her and nodded.

“Open,” Martha said, as sensitively as she could.

Neorah obeyed and whimpered as the water gained access.

“It is the best thing for,” Martha paused, awkward, “that area right now that water be there. It will help prevent anything bad that may have entered from causing—from causing—“

“An infection,” Neorah cut in flatly.

“Yes, dear, an infection,” Martha said solemnly.

She reached into the water and lightly began to brush the blood spatter off of Neorah’s legs. When she got to her upper thigh, Neorah tightened her jaw and breathed in sharply. It was paralyzing. Martha was as gentle as she could possibly be.

Bernice returned and said softly, “I did the best that I could cleaning it, Martha, there was so much, uh, b-b—blood that I had to run it four times through hot water to even get the stain to slightly disappear.”

Even as softly as she had spoken, Neorah heard Bernice’s words and went stiff.

“If you don’t relax, it will just get worse,” Martha said honestly, “You are finished bathing, I am sending for someone to come and safely retrieve you. Is there anyone in particular, dearest?”