Ellen's Point of View
"
…she's losing control, Richard. I always knew this was bound to happen.
"
The voice of my father cuts through the stillness in my head, so sharp as a new knife. I can't
open my eyes or move, but the words echo over me.
Another voice speaks, the tone lower.
"She almost died, Victor. That's not control, that's
desperation.
"
"Desperation or defiance, it doesn't matter,
" my father snaps.
"She's destroying her future and
dragging my name with her. Clara's death already turned her into a walking mess. Now this.
"
The other man sighs.
"What do you have in mind then? She's your only child.
"
"I was planning to send her abroad. But I have a better idea,
" my father says, voice dropping to
a calm that scares me more than the anger of before. I hear a brief pause before he continues.
"Paulo DeLuca. The man's recently divorced, he needs to restore his reputation. He mentioned
looking for someone decent, quiet, respectable.
"
The air inside my lungs freezes, as if I am waiting for the most terrible news ever.
"And Ellen would be a perfect fit.
"
There is the bad news!
"She's still recovering, Victor. You can't mean—
"
"She will marry him,
" my father interrupts, firm.
"He gets a wife, I get stability, and she finally
learns obedience. It's cleaner than a father outrightly abandoning his child.
"
I want to scream and defend myself, but my body doesn't move. I can literally feel my ears
bleeding with a foreign sound which fades until all that's left is the steady beep of a machine.
"She'll resist,
" the other man says before they leave.
My father's reply is ice.
"Then make sure she doesn't.
"
The door shuts.
Sudden Silence.
I open my eyes slowly. The ceiling blurs into a grey haze. My throat and legs ache, and when I
try to move, pain shoots up on my both sides.
All I see is a sterile room which comes with a faint scent of disinfectant.
Hospital.
I lift my hand to touch the bandage on my forehead. The memory of headlights flashes in my
mind, followed by a scream and a black wall of nothing.
The door opens softly. A nurse steps in. Immediately she sets eyes on me, her eyes widen in
glee.
"You're awake,
" she says, relief slipping into her voice.
"How do you feel?"
"Like thrash.
" I manage to mumble out.
She smiles lightly.
"You were unconscious for three days, it's expected to feel this way.
" She
adjusts the IV, checks my pulse, notes something on her clipboard.
Then she reaches for the intercom.
"I'll let your father know you're awake—
"
"No.
" The word comes out too quickly, too loud. My throat stings at that.
She pauses.
"Excuse me?"
"Please,
" I whisper this time.
"Give me some time. I can't talk to him yet.
"
Her brows knit.
"He's been very worried.
"
Worried my ass.
"Please,
" I repeat, almost pleading.
"Just give me…
" I trail off to quickly glance at the wall clock
on the wall.
"
… an hour.
"
The nurse hesitates with a mixed reaction, then sighs.
"An hour,
" she says finally.
"Just that time
frame please.
"
"I promise.
"
When she leaves, I push myself upright with effort. My muscles contract and protest, but I
manage to sit up.
The city skyline glows faintly through the blinds. A slice of gray light touches the bed sheets. I
stare at it, hollow and still, until anger slowly replaces the clouds in my head.
Married. To a man I've never met and a pawn to a stranger with money. That's my father's
solution.
He can't be for real.
He doesn't care that I almost died. He only cares about control.
So pathetic.
Clara once told me that grief either breaks you or sharpens you. I used to think I was breaking.
Now, I'm not so sure if I'm barely living.
I swing my legs over the edge of the bed, biting down a groan. The floor feels cold under my
feet. My hospital gown hangs loosely on my frame, but I don't care.
I need to be on the move so I can think and act fast.
If he's coming here to tell me about my future, then I'll give him something to talk about.
Something so outrageous, so unpredictable, that he'll rethink every plan he's made for me.
I grab the glass of water beside my bed and gulp down half of it, trying to steady the pounding in
my chest.
Maybe I'll disappear? Or I'll ruin his precious arrangement before it begins? Better still, I'll prove
that he doesn't control me anymore.
None of this seems feasible as I have never defiled my father before.
The door creaks again, and I flinch.
But it's only the nurse returning, holding a tray.
She sets it down and eyes me carefully.
"You should lie back down.
"
"I'm fine,
" I lie.
She tilts her head.
"You don't look fine.
"
I manage a weak smile.
"I am truly fine.
"
She shakes her head, muttering something about stubborn patients as she leaves again.
The moment she's gone, I exhale shakily and stare at the clock.
One hour.
That's how long I have before my father is going to be informed that I am up from coma.
One hour to find a way out.
And as the seconds tick away, one thought echoes louder than the rest.
If I have to burn my reputation to stay free, then so be it.
I look around to see if my phone is close by, and I notice it on the top shelf of the cabinet across
from me. It takes me approximately fifteen minutes to struggle to the other side of the room as I
am yet to fully recover.
"Finally.
" I mutter and grab my phone. It's a little cracked from the accident impact and I try to
remember who my attacker was, but all I get is an instant headache.
Barely switching my phone on, it rings on my palms and see it is Sophia. I decline the call and
realize I had dozens of missed call before my phone shut down.
Knowing my father, he would not let a single soul know which hospital I was taken to, how much
more allowing my friends to visit me.
After boosting my phone for a few minutes, I place a call through.
"Hello? This is Ellen.
"
"Ellen? I thought you wer—
"
I cut the other person off in haste.
"Please I will explain everything to you later, I need your help
right now.