Not my Own Chapter 2

The picture of Ella and Allen, embracing each other in front of a tropical sunset, is a prized possession in this cursed household. It was their honeymoon. They never take me on vacation with them because “it will interfere with my studies.” I’ve never been anywhere but here, New York. Never seen anything of the world outside. I am a prisoner.

Ella is actually smiling in the picture. Her caramel hair is long, not cropped short like it is now. Allen is gazing at her with utter adoration, almost like a puppy. His face is smooth, unwrinkled.

The perfect couple.

The worst parents.

I light the photo on fire.

Red flames lick Ella’s face, turning her unblemished skin black. Allen’s arm is nothing but a hole. I cough a little from the smoke, but I keep the photo close to me. I want to watch her burn. I imagine Ella is being burned out of my life, and the smoke cleanses my memory of her. I imagine how my life would be if I had another mother, one who loved me and helped me study and did I mention loved me? She would take me out, not leave me trapped indoors. She would hug me when I got home, or even better, pick me up from school. I wouldn’t have to ride the bus with all the idiots from school.

I throw the picture to the floor and stamp it out. Ella’s face is burnt beyond recognition. Morbid satisfaction bubbled up as a laugh. I clutch my side to keep from falling and rolling hysterically on the floor.

“Lelly! Come downstairs,” Allen called. “We need to talk.”

Cue the horror music.

I went down as slowly as possible. Allen was standing there, his face stoic. “Leila, you know we love you, right?”

He doesn’t sound that way. It sounds more like, “You failed us.”

“Yes,” I said, even though my answer is no. If they loved me, Ella wouldn’t make me feel like crap every time I look at her. If she loved me, I would feel she is really my mother. Ella… when I think Ella, I think… monster.

“Leila. Look at us.” Ella steps beside Allen. Her voice is the snake lurking underneath the candy box. “We want to tell you something.”

A feeling of dread arose in my throat, almost choking me. “What is it?”

Ella takes a deep breath. Allen squeezes her hand, and murmurs an “It’s okay, honey.” Comforting her. Comforting Ella.

I can’t believe I am their child.

“Leila, we are taking you out of school. Instead, a private tutor will be coming every morning at seven o’ clock sharp.”

A tutor. No more school. No escape. Trapped in this home. With Ella.

The words swirled around my head, trying to get in, trying to make me accept reality and give in. A voice in the back of my head, sounding very much like Ella, snipped, “Get over it, brat!”

A tutor… in my house. My room.

Never again.

I opened my mouth to protest, but nothing came out. I found my voice and managed to speak out in a weak voice. “Ella, you know what happened with the last tutor! I thought you said, you said, that no more tutors! You promised!” the words came out in a rush. I didn’t care how desperate I sounded. The memories came back, playing in front of my eyes like a movie. The way he’d covered my mouth so Ella and Allen didn’t hear me calling for help. His sickening smile… nausea threatened to take over.

“We have no proof Mr. Stein really did that to you. Anyway, you’ll like your new tutor. She’s… a friend of your mother’s, you see,” Allen piped up.

“No proof?” I stared at him in disbelief. “What kind of father are you? Not even believing your daughter,” I mimicked Ella’s earlier words. “Pathetic.”

“Don’t talk to your father that way!” Ella pushed Allen aside to face me. Her upper lip was pulled back in a snarl.

“Leila, this conversation is over. She will arrive tomorrow. Seven o’clock. Remember that,” Allen said and they left the room.

I cried myself to sleep that night, dreading the nightmare awaiting me when I awoke.