Clock on the wall

I’m not very good at writing. And my thoughts are still jumbled so this may not make sense. But I was told to write to get through and cope so that’s what I’m doing. This maybe a trigger for some as it deals with rape

I watch the clock in the wall. It’s odd how the second hand stops and then jumps forward. I count 1..2..3..4..5.. it jumps ahead and stops again. I focus on the clock above my head. If I focus hard enough maybe I can drown out the sound of the camera taking photos. 1..2..3..4..5.. focus… I hear the nurse say something as my friend grabs my hand and squeezes to let me know I am not alone. 1..2..3..4..5.. the nurse tells me to take a deep breath. I dont take my eyes off the clock while I do. My eyes fill with tears as she inserts the speculum. I have broken eye contact with the clock so I search for it. With blurry eyes I count 1..2..3..4..5 just focus on the clock. Not the pain, not the memories that are trying to flash in my mind. I close my eyes and try to picture the clock but I end up crying out in pain as the nurse trys to get the tool in the right spot. I wonder how could you cause so much bruising when I couldn’t put up a fight because my arms were to heavy and when I try to say stop only noise came out? What did you put in my drink that allowed you to move me around like a doll? No I cant think of that. Think of the clock 1..2..3..4..5 the nurse tells me I’m a trooper as she gets the speculum placed. My eyes are full of tears that they cant be contained and I slightly hope I didnt cut my friends skin with my nails when i squeezed. Look… look for the clock, the one above my head. 1..2..3..4..5 time jumps ahead again as I try to drown out the sound of the camera as the nurse takes more pictures, as I try to stop the pain, as I try to stop the memory…. its futile