Autobiography of an abolitionist Part I

The romance starts

When I woke up, I was back in the room where I spent the worst years of my life in. The thought of it made me sick just looking up at the ceiling. I tried to sit up, but I was too weak and my head was spinning. I passed out after another effort of sitting up, and didn't wake up til who knew when. I was less weak the next time I tried to wake up, but still a unable to sit up properly. I forced myself to sit up and when I saw the bloody bandages on my legs everything came rushing back. It made me feel sick,and I just wanted to disappear from the Earth, but that wouldn't happen.I knew I needed to get up and move around. I swung my legs over the bed and put my feet on the floor. I stood up and came crashing down to the floor with the pain from the bullet hole in my leg and the other cuts and scrapes. My bandages tore open and I started to bleed. Apparently my future husband was outside the door and came in to see me in a crimson puddle. He left the room and came back with towels and more bandages, and cleaned up the mess.
      He told me I shouldn't have gotten up, but I wasn't really listening. I was in too much pain to care. He said that I had been unconscious for about two days, and that my wounds were getting worse. Nobody would get the medicine I needed, and nobody would treat it. He was the only one who would put bandages on and take them off. He told me our wedding was to take place as soon as my wounds were healed. I couldn't scream, so instead I chose to get away from him by trying to stand up again. He pushed me back down and held me there until he was sure I wouldn't try to get up again. I finally just said "Why?". He wasn't sure what I meant by "why". So I asked him again, but chose to be a bit more specific. "Why help me, why not let me die here?" He told me he loved me, but I didn't believe that for a minute. He told me how he convinced his father to let him marry me. Apparently his father was completely against it until Daniel bribed him with money. His father agreed and that was how the fateful night when they told me that I was to marry Daniel, came into place.
      Daniel told me it was his turn to ask me a question. I decided to let him ask. He asked why I ran away. I was furious at the fact that he was so oblivious to the fact that he made me watch as my mother was killed! I rolled over and as I did, I fell off the bed and hit my head on the nightstand next to my bed. Daniel picked me up and sat down on the bed cradling me. I bit him on the arm and ripped flesh from bone. I watched him as he shrieked and flailed trying to get the bandages.
      He left and didn't come back til about supper time. He came in, threw me over his shoulder and "carried" me to the dinner table. No one said a word as they were eating. I looked at Daniel's arm and saw the poor job he did at bandaging his arm. After dinner everyone said goodnight and left for their rooms. Daniel didn't bother to take me to my room, he just told me goodnight and good luck getting to my room. I knew where it was, and I could get there in about five minutes, but the wounds on my legs would slow me down making the journey longer. I thought that maybe I could find a grip on the wall. I stood up and leaned against the china cabinet for support. I held on and took several painful steps forward. I reached around the corner of the cabinet and found nothing to grab onto. So much for using the wall. I experimented with my footing and took a step forward. The same thing happened as when I tried to walk earlier. I simply fell over and ripped open my bandages. As I layed there I saw candlelight approaching. Daniel poked his head around the corner of the hallway and asked me how much progress I was making in the dark. I ignored his taunts and grabbed the thin edges of the tiles on the floor and pulled myself forward using those. Daniel stood there and laughed. Finally I just couldn't carry on, and Daniel could see that. He offered me help as I lay there bleeding and exhausted. I told him I didn't need help.
      He decided to carry me anyway and just as he was about to close the door to my room, I asked him to stay with me. He pulled a chair up next to my bed, and asked me if I needed anything. I said no and we just sat in silence. I broke the silence by apologizing for biting him earlier, and he apologized for the terrible bandage work. I asked him to go and grab the roll of bandages, and he did. I reached my hand out and told him to give me his arm. After I had ahold of his arm I took his bandages off, and told him to close his eyes and hold still. After his eyes were closed I took the rubbing alcohol that was next to my bed and took the top off. I told him to crush my arm if it hurt. I poured the alcohol on the wound and he would've screamed if I hadn't put my hand over his mouth. I reminded him that the others were sleeping and that if need be, to crush my arm if it hurt. So he started to close his hand around my wrist, and before I knew it, my wrist made a horrible cracking sound. I dropped the alcohol and put my hand over my mouth to keep from screaming. I knew it was broken and he knew it too because he let go immediately.
As I struggled to keep from screaming, fresh hot tears streamed down my face. And at long last I said "Now we're even." he nodded and I finished treating his arm and bandaging it with my unbroken hand. He went and gathered things for a splint and fixed my wrist up after I treated my legs. The next few weeks were spent mostly in bed. Daniel was busy fixing things here and there trying to make extra money, and so he didn't have time to give me company. I couldn't really talk with the pain in my wrist and legs anyway, so it didn't matter. Daniel finally came by to visit me and said he was able to get a doctor, now that he had the money. I was in bed with a high fever from the infections that wouldn't stop. I tried to show I was grateful by giving a smile. But instead it came out as a grimace from trying to shift into a sitting position. He told me that it would probably be best not to move, and that the doctor would be here in a few hours. So later that day the doctor came by as promised, and looked at the bullet hole, the cuts and scrapes, and my wrist. The doctor was absolutely furious with Daniel and demanded why he had let it get this bad. I just sat there and watched as the argument carried on. The doctor said that I'll either have to come back with him to a medical center, or he'll have to make daily visits to see if I I'm improving. He treated my wounds with medicine and left. For the next week he did the same thing and after that started testing as to whether or not I could stand. Of course it didn't work, and the doctor told me that since I haven't used my legs in so long, it can be expected. I went through "rehab" for about three days and was back to walking normally within that time.