Ik wachtte netjes in de wachtkamer en hoopte maar dat alles goed ging.Lisa kwam zwijgend en met een bleek gezicht de wachtkamer inlopen en ik stond di...rect bezorgd op. Zonder iets te zeggen, hielp ik mijn meisje in haar jas en hand in hand liepen we naar de auto. Ik startte de motor, maar reed nog niet weg.“En lieverd?” vroeg ik enigszins bezorgd. “Wat zei de dokter?”Ze keek me aan en ik zag een traan over haar wang lopen. “De dokter zei dat ik….. zwanger ben.”Ik schrok geweldig en staarde Lisa. ?Phasefucking four,? they agreed. * * * * * * * * * * Linsey liked to drink a glass of orange juice before going to bed. It wasa longstanding habit, perhaps a relic of a happy childhood ritual. Unknownto her, they often watched her sip from her orange juice as she played. Tonight, however, Linsey felt tired. It had been a long day at the office,everyone was riding her ass. She'd lost a certain amount of respect there forthe way she had dressed, something she didn't quite appreciate. Fatigue. His fingers began walking down Jenny's chest, up her left tit to the nipple 'No way thought here", then back and up the right one, 'Still no pass'. "Aha, thar she blows!" The fingers marched down between her breasts triumphantly."Now a day's march across the barren plains." The fingers marched south down Jen's belly."Billy, you're so silly!" She giggled. No thought of escaping now."Look sharp now, 'tis the sinkhole of no return, Beware! Beware." The fingers slipped about her navel, barely. For those of you who have never heard of Safehouse, it is a place for battered women to come to in there time of recovery of abuse. A place to hide from their abusers and get their feet back on the ground. A chance to become an individual being, not an abusers puppet, to be controlled as he sees fit. A chance to find ones self. A friend of mine that stayed a short time at Safehouse, (I cannot use her name without breaking confidentiality) wrote a lovely poem for the people that happened to be.