'Is that her?' asked Pink, my friend who often hung out beside me when she was free.
I swayed in acknowledgement as Derek entered the room. My heart almost skipped a beat when I saw how tenderly he carried her in his muscular arms. I tried to sigh, but all that came out was something that sounded like a wheeze.
‘Well, she looks …. a bit dull. Almost grey’, added Pink, as he gingerly put Ms. ‘Grey’ on the bed. Despite my vantage point, I could not see his face. But I knew he was admiring her - top to bottom, curves and all. After all, he had a similar modus operandi every time someone new ‘fell’ for his honey-glazed smile.
I tried to look away; but of course, I couldn’t. With the sheer number of women folk entering his life, I knew it was only a matter of time before he lost interest in me. But, that touch of his - that delicate caress of his nimble fingers as he ran them all over my being - one that always reiterated that I would be his favourite. Even when Mary - or Mary, the Red, as we called her in our circles - had threatened to steal my spot.
But everything changed that fatal day. That wound - the large gaping hole on my right side - that had been my undoing. It mattered not to him, that I had sustained those injuries while trying to protect him. Tried as they did to stitch me up, deep down we both knew that I would never be the same again. And in no time, he'd tossed me away as if I was a piece of trash.
'Men! They're all the same!' Pink's nasal voice still echoed in my head. That's what she had said when I'd told her about what had happened. I knew she could empathise. After all, she'd been a victim too.
‘It’s time.’ Pink whispered solemnly, drawing my attention back to the room. Even though I knew what was coming, I sensed my free-flowing body quiver ever so slightly. And as I watched with a heavy heart, Derek slowly picked Ms. ‘Grey’ up and pulled her closer; his bare chest erupting into a minefield of goosebumps as her cold body came in contact with his warm one. Carefully and slowly, he wrapped her around himself and quietly slid his arms into hers, savouring every moment as if he was consuming a rich, decadent cake.
‘At least in my next life, I hope I’m not a shirt!’ I heard Pink mutter beside me, as Derek buttoned Ms. ‘Grey' up.
A special thank you to a select few bloggers and friends who took the pain to reach out and ask me why I hadn't posted anything this week. As someone who writes (or pretends to!), there is no greater joy than when a reader tells you that they've missed reading your work. I'd have loved to write a longer piece, but with a bunged up nose, a cough that refuses to give up and a body pain that has confined me to the bed most of the time, even these 500-odd words were challenging. But write, we must. That's a commitment we make to the craft.
Will be back with 'renewed' vigour and more stories. Soon.
Oh! And any reference to 'Grey's Anatomy' or its characters are well...you know. :)