“Samantha, what’s wrong? I can tell something has been weighing on you,” Mr. Maxwell said.
He looked across the room to where Samantha slumped in her chair. He had been watching her for weeks.
Her face gaunt from lack of sleep and stress had worn deep lines into her forehead. She had been dragging herself to work and putting on a brave face at work day after day feeling lost since Valeria had walked out of her life without looking back, but it was getting increasingly hard to keep up the charade.
“I don’t exactly know. I don’t think I can go on like this for much longer,” Samantha sighed.
“How about you take two weeks off with pay? I think it might help you find some peace and get better,” Mr. Maxwell offered kindly.
Samantha shook her head, trying to choke back tears.
“It’s your call, Samantha,” he said firmly, searching her eyes for a sign of understanding.
She didn’t want to be seen as weak and dependent on someone else’s help. But after days of struggling against the black fog that clung to her every move, she slowly accepted his offer.
“Thank you,” she whispered, barely a whisper of the woman she had once been.
The past two weeks had been a blur of restlessness and despair. Samantha stayed up late into the night, haunted by memories of every betrayal and abandonment that cut deep into her core; but still, nightmares about the empty void that stretched before her future that brought no solace.
“Goodnight, Mr. Maxwell,” Samantha said, her voice quivering as she straightened the papers on her desk, her movements sluggish and heavy. She had been feeling feverish and the burning sensation in her stomach was getting worse. She was exhausted. She prayed that an early night’s sleep could ease the fever that she had been fighting for days – but it only seemed to be getting worse.
Her vision was blurry, her temples throbbing agonizingly, her stomach churning painfully. She tried to pick up some boxes with trembling hands, but they slipped from her grip and crashed to the ground. Sweat
was dripping from her face and body, making her clothes stick to her skin.
Mary walked into the office and noticed something was wrong. “Samantha, are you alright?” she asked.
As Samantha tried to answer, a wave of nausea engulfed her body and she suddenly felt a bitter taste in her mouth. She tumbled backwards into a little couch and threw up all over the carpet.
“Oh no!” Mary exclaimed, rushing to her side. “Someone fetch a glass of water quickly!” But it was too late – Samantha had already vomited.
Samantha groaned in agony as Mary helped her up from the carpet. “I’m sorry,” Samantha muttered, trembling from the pain.
Mary just nodded sadly and guided Samantha out of the office, fear etched in her face.
“Quick, get a towel!” Mary shouted, yanking one off the hook in the restroom and rushing back to where Samantha lay on the ground. She draped the towel over her sweating forehead, feeling the heat leaving her skin.
“Is she going to be all right?” a colleague asked frantically.
“Yes,” a voice answered, “but we’d better get her to the hospital right away.”
“You’re going to be alright, Sam,” Mary mumbled, caressing her friend’s cheeks.
Samantha opened her eyes and whispered in a faint voice, “I’m scared”.
“Don’t worry,” Mary said with assurance, “I’ve called an ambulance and they’ll be here in no time.”
They all watched in worry as they loaded Samantha into the ambulance, praying silently for her health.
***
The doctor’s face shifted from concern to pure horror as she examined Samantha’s test results.
“I’m sorry to tell you this, but it seems like you have contracted a serious sexually transmitted disease, Syphilis,” the doctor said slowly, her words dragging out the fear that was already settling over the room. Samantha felt the pit of her stomach drop at those words.
“No,” Samantha breathed, her mind seriously searching for some other explanation. She had heard of these diseases before, but she never imagined that she would ever be one of the unfortunate people to get infected with it.
Tears welled up in her eyes and her heart raced with fear.
“How could this have happened?” Samantha choked out, feeling betrayed by her body and her mind.
“I always thought I was careful and I followed all the precautions I knew to take,” she said,
her voice full of desperation.
The doctor tried to comfort her, but his words felt hollow in the face of such tragedy. Questions of how and who raced through Samantha’s mind, and she felt an icy wave of shame wash over her.
“It usually happens due to carelessness or lack of knowledge in regards to engaging in unprotected sex” the doctor said gently, trying to comfort her.
Samantha’s mind raced with questions: Who infected her? Was it Arnold, Mark, her Chairman or Valeria or some other random people outside work?
Samantha’s anger flared. She found herself feeling angry at them all and was disgusted with herself for not being more careful, for not protecting herself better. she cursed herself for being so careless. She had known the risks, but she had chosen to ignore them. Now she was paying the price, and it wasn’t just physical.
She wanted revenge, but also knew that it wouldn’t be easy; her diagnosis had taken away all of her control.
Samantha let out a long sigh and closed her eyes, feeling lost and alone at the bottom of the deepest abyss.
Tears rolled down her face as she tried to contain her sobs. Out of breath and at the end of her rope, Samantha stopped sobbing suddenly, staring at the ceiling of the hospital, she whispered in despair,
“How could I have been so stupid?”
She felt completely alone while everyone around her seemed to be completely unaware of her exact condition. And those that did knew, to make matters worse, scoffed and whispered behind her back. Spreading her shame and ridicule.