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墨書 Inktalez
The buzzing of the freezer transformed into the crying of a baby in the delivery room. When I opened my eyes, disinfectant was flowing through the IV line into my veins, while my mother’s newly done crystal nails scraped against the edge of the B Ultrasound, producing a sound reminiscent of shattering bones in the silent ward.
"Six weeks pregnant." She pressed the B Ultrasound against the bruise on my collarbone, her Cartier bracelet clinking against the metal bed rail. "Your dad specifically invited a renowned gynecologist." The chipped polish on her fingertips pressed against my lower abdomen, the cold touch evoking memories of frozen cockroaches trapped in the cracks of an attic floor.
My stepfather's crocodile leather shoes crunched over scattered examination forms, his whiskey breath mingling with cologne as it invaded my nostrils. The serpent tattoo on his wrist coiled around the wires of the fetal monitor, and suddenly, the fluctuating waves on the display turned into a straight line of death.
"Director Wang will be here soon." My mother pulled out a gilded lighter, the flame licking at the corner of the miscarriage consent form. "Sign this and I’ll buy you a new phone." The pearls dangling from her earlobes reflected my distorted image; those earrings were exchanged for my high school admission notice.
The fetal monitor emitted a sharp alarm. I ripped off the IV from my hand, blood splattering onto my stepfather's suit lapel where his lawyer badge was pinned. He gripped my neck and pushed my face toward the window; across from us, a hotel sign flickered with crimson letters proclaiming "Hourly Room 68 Yuan."
"The surveillance video from that night is very clear." My stepfather's thumb brushed over the cracked corner of my mouth, and a shard from his wedding ring tore away a piece of bloody flesh. "You looked more enticing than your mother did back in her day when you seduced clients."
The shattered mirror reflected a white coat swaying in the corridor. Director Wang's name tag was stained with brown herbal residue, and a yellowed photo slipped out from between the pages of the surgery consent form—on the social news page from twenty years ago, a doctor wearing gold-rimmed glasses was shaking hands with "Enthusiastic Citizen Mr. Wang."
The moment the anesthesia mask was clamped down, I bit through the nurse's glove. The bitter taste of rubber exploded on my tongue as shadows danced in the spotlight above, revealing a police officer’s uniform epaulet adorned with a black snake. Amidst the crisp sounds of surgical clamps colliding, my mother hummed a lullaby from my childhood.
"Just bear with it; it will be over soon." Her bloodied fingertip caressed the restraint strap on my wrist, and her freshly painted nails glistened under the cold light like congealed scabs. "Your dad has prepared brown sugar water downstairs." The values on the fetal monitor surged wildly as her warm breath whispered against an old scar on my cochlea.
At that moment when metal instruments pierced into my body, a sudden sound of dragging chains echoed from the ventilation duct. My stepfather's roar mixed with sirens grew closer; dust falling from the ceiling blinded Director Wang. Seizing the opportunity, I knocked over the anesthesia cart, glass vials exploding into sharp shards across the tiles.
"Stop her!" My stepfather's gold watch got caught in the gap of an escape route door as his serpent tattoo twisted into whip-like shapes with his tensed muscles. Barefoot, I stepped over scattered medical waste, sticky blood trailing down from my inner thigh to the fire escape stairs.
The cold wind on the rooftop dispelled the dizziness from chloroform. Gripping half of a scalpel, I ran toward the helipad; each step felt like walking on shards of glass due to abdominal cramps. The sound of my mother's high heels echoed in the stairwell as her new platinum bag chain scraped against the cement wall, producing noises akin to dragging chains.
"Baby, look—" She stood ten meters away, holding her phone up, the screen displaying a video of my childhood self curled up in the corner of the attic. "Mommy has prepared a birthday gift for you." The unsealed package slipped from her palm, revealing a stuffed toy that concealed a tiny camera within its belly.
As the police helicopter's searchlight pierced through the night, I caught sight of the female officer's uniform epaulet flashing high above. The rescue rope she tossed grazed my ear, but it was my stepfather's wedding ring that first snagged the ends of my hair. My mother suddenly screamed and lunged at me, her crystal nails digging into the old burn on my lower abdomen.
"My daughter has gone mad!" She tore open my patient gown, revealing cigarette burn marks scattered across the skin near my stretch marks. "Officer, please save her!" The female officer's service pistol jammed unexpectedly, and a blank round fell from the magazine, rolling through the puddles on the helipad and reflecting Director Wang's figure as he signed for a check downstairs.
A sharp pain tore through my abdomen. My stepfather's wedding ring yanked out clumps of bloodied hair, while my mother's crystal nails were digging into the ring-shaped scar around my navel. Suddenly, a traffic broadcast crackled through the female officer's radio: "A serious car accident has occurred on Jianshe Road; the victim is an officer from the criminal investigation team..."
The propeller's airflow flipped over the surgical consent form. Amongst a flurry of paper pages, Director Wang's signature overlapped with the handwriting of "Enthusiastic Citizen Wang" from a newspaper twenty years ago. I seized the trembling wrist of the female officer and leaped down, feeling a sudden burst of movement in my abdomen that resembled a live fish struggling in a freezer.
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