Birth Row

Part Thirteen

Clara stared incessantly at the full length mirror, turning side to side to view her body from every angle.

She recognized this body, yet had trouble believing her eyes. Except for her short hair, the eighteen year old beautiful girl reflected back matched her teenage memory, long cherished yet almost forgotten. Youth coursed through her veins, filled with possibilities.

Clara Gannett, the rich and powerful Prom Queen was reborn. Back from the dead.

Halleluiah and thanks to her beloved man.

A full ninety days had passed since her rebirthing and she was tired of being locked up in the Rejuvenation Center. Why couldn’t she be back with her man? She was finishing her rejuvenation period and would happily wear a wig for her man until her full natural hair grew out. What else did he expect from her?

Clara didn’t mind staying at the Center, it was quite large and had first class accommodations. Her main problem was getting good help. These science types didn’t know how to treat a lady. And all the nurses were sluts. Clara was going to have a talk with her beloved about getting better people. This was the second time she had to correct this staffing problem and now she would need to put her foot down. Her beloved was sure to understand. After all, they were bound together. She was his princess now.

Suddenly, Watkins voice emanated from the intercom,

“Hello Princess”.

Clara immediately rushed from her bedroom to see her man. Watkins was leaning against the steel bars at the entrance, smoking a cigarette. He was the handsomest man she had ever seen. Clara’s heart fluttered when she saw him produce a broad smile at her. She gently touched his hand through the bars and said,

“How much longer must I be locked away from you my beloved? Have I done something to displease you? You know that my only reason for being is to be with you. Don’t you like the way I turned out?”

Clara wore a revealing nightgown and turned seductively to give a full view to Watkins.

“Princess, you are absolutely stunning,” Watkins said with a sigh, “but the dead bodies are a problem.”

“Oh Darling, don’t let a few dead peons get in the way of our love.”

“What was wrong with these three?”

Clara reached through the bars and removed the cigarette from Watkins fingers. After a long drag she said, “I can’t even believe you let Carl in the same room as me, he never once took his eyes off me. I tell you, he wanted me in the worst way. I knew you wouldn’t want that, so I took care of it. As for the other two, Cindy was too pretty and Barbara wasn’t clean enough. You do want me to be happy, don’t you?”

“Ravishing but deadly is a combination that only serves me well with my enemies Princess, not with our own people. Remember that fine line between insane and crazy we talked about? Well, you drove a truck over it. I need you, want you, even love you, but I can’t trust you. You keep murdering the help.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that until I find a way to use you in my plans you have to stay locked up in here.”

“But who will take care of you?”

Watkins said, “I have to go now.” And he walked away without answering.

Holly Morgan met Watkins at the outer doors. Clara tried to lock eyes with Holly but the slut wouldn’t look at her. She watched as they walked away together with Holly shamelessly hanging on Watkins arm.

Unhappy yet unfazed, Clara leaned against the bars to her cage, longingly taking in the last lingering scents of her man. Watkins was her beloved and she knew he would come back to her. She was a patient woman. She would wait. She had all the time in the world.

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