Ellen (Miss Saigon Fanfiction)

Part 3

As I snapped out of my reverie, I made my decision.

"Please come inside, no one will hurt you." Kim stepped forward and looked around our room in complete awe. Just like Chris, I was captivated by her innocence. She looked like a child. When she noticed me staring at her, she said, "Oh, I'm sorry Madame. It's just that I haven't been to a room as nice and as beautiful as this for years. My bedroom back in Vietnam was just like this... before the war." She frowned but after a few seconds, she smiled again. "So, Madame, do you know when Chris will be coming back?" She asked me.

"I don't know yet. Oh, and I'm Ellen," I said, offering her my hand. "Chris's far cousin."

It felt bitter, pretending to be his cousin, but I know he still loves her and so does Kim. I love you Chris, and I'm doing this for you.

"Oh, nice to meet you, Ellen." She smiled and accepted my hand. As I lead her to the couch, my mind kept telling me that this was the right thing to do, even if it hurts.

"So, if you don't mind, Kim. Would you like to tell me your story?"

Kim's smile quickly dissipated and it was replaced by a look of hurt and pain. I was about to tell her that if she wasn't comfortable, then it was fine. But she started.

"I am an only child of a wealthy family. In our country, only one child is allowed and when the doctor found out I was a girl, he suggested to my parents that they could drown me in the river or abandon me so they could try for a boy. But my parents loved me so they didn't. They treated me like a princess. When I was a child, they never let me outside to play because they said it was too dangerous. So I was homeschooled. But in Vietnam, only boys were allowed education but my parents paid a teacher so I could learn. When I was thirteen, my parents set up a match for me and my cousin, Thuy. He was only two months older than me and I disliked him. He always wanted things to go his way. When we turned fifteen, he was drafted to fight for our country. I didn't see him for more than a year. But one day, just 3 weeks before my seventeenth birthday, they came..." she was already crying, and I felt bad. She's been through so much pain, even in her early life.

"The soldiers came, and they started shooting. My parents tried to keep me calm and they kept telling me it was okay, but I knew it wasn't. We started to run from our farm with my parents carrying our things in our bags and they also had a blanket covering us. When I looked back, I saw my parents' workers lying on the dirt...dead. We kept running but my mother tripped. Father and I rushed back to help her but they just gave the bags and they told me to keep running. They said they'd catch up. I didn't want to leave them so my Father took my arm and he ran with me until we were a good feet away from Mother then he ran back. I tried to run back to Mother and Father but then the helicopters came and my mother's legs were bombed. They were shattered and blood was everywhere. My mother's scream was the worst thing I've ever heard. And soon, flames covered the rice fields and they approached Mama and Baba. They were burned...alive. They died in front of my eyes."