December 5th (Then)

[lesliethompkins]

Life in the pursuit of service. Her father had laughed out loud. No attempt was made to hide his bemusement. When he realized she was serious, it mutated into anger. No daughter of his was going to throw away promises of a profitable life. Leslie Thompkins was his little girl. She could have had anything she wanted. But medical school?! Why?!

"So you can waste your time on those who can't pay for your services? Leslie. Think about it."

She did. She thought about it out of respect for her father. Her mind once it was made however would not be dissuaded. Her father in turn respected her desire. The East Side Clinic was born half a decade later. Patients trickled in and bills accumulated at an alarming rate. Her determination dwindled. Finances darkened. She told no one at first, determined to find the elusive solution herself. She could go to others in the medical community. Charitable foundations. Her family. Friends. She didn't.

Had her father been right? Had her overabundance of idealism overshadowed her good sense? Would the dream die before it rose to its full potential? After months of deliberation, she recognized not idealism but pride would be her downfall.

She sought funding, anyway and every way she could.

Five years later, the clinic blossoms under the care of the Wayne Foundation. No other present can compare. Now or then.

She's readying to leave for the night when an unfamiliar visitor arrives.

Comments

[femme-du-chat.livejournal.com]

"..... Everything. I don't know."

She looks down at herself, "I wasn't protected." The words are quiet as she speaks them.

[lesliethompkins.livejournal.com]

She nods in understanding.

That one statement gives her just about everything she needs to know. Medically speaking. Leslie can't help but wonder if Maggie's "partner" was also responsible for the littering of bruises.

The process takes close to thirty minutes. She doesn't bother to ask the young woman if she has the time. Maggie is here, now. There's no sense making her second guess the decision.

A few pointed questions and Leslie covers the bases.

[femme-du-chat.livejournal.com]

The needles are shyed away from just a little but she knows it is needed. For the most part, she doesn't say anything at all, just sits there. The tests are all clean but Maggie, or whatever her name really is, does not seem entirely trustful of the results.

It takes a bit but finally there is a, "Thank you," from the sullen girl who cannot yet be out of her teens.

[lesliethompkins.livejournal.com]

"You're very welcome," is the automatic response. The swiftness of the reply does little to detract from the sincerity.

There may still be reason for concern on the young woman's part. Some of the test results will take a few days to come back. She says as much.

Leslie pauses over the newly organized medical file. "What name should I put on this, dear?"

[femme-du-chat.livejournal.com]

The girl looks at the woman for a few moments in silence.

"I'm going to have to come back."

There is a dull sort of certainty there.

[lesliethompkins.livejournal.com]

She offers a solemn nod in response. Any chances of this being a quick in and a quick out are dashed. "Do you have a place to stay, dear?"

[femme-du-chat.livejournal.com]

"Yeah."

She does. In fact, if she doesn't get back there soon enough there will be hell to pay for it but she doesn't really care. This was more important.

[lesliethompkins.livejournal.com]

Maybe she should have worded that particular question a bit differently. "Do you have a safe place to stay?"

Statistics state most violence is rendered by an individual or individuals known to the victim. The neighborhood doesn't help either. The East Side has been good to few.