Let It Be (A Beatles Story)

Chapter Fifty-Nine

This chapter is darker than usual.

I was chained to a sterile, white floor that smelled strongly of cleaning material and blood.  When I lifted my head, I gasped and began to cry.  John and George were in two hospital beds on either sides of me, moaning and shouting in pain.  "Elle, it hurts." George sighed.  

"Elle, get us out of here."

They called out to me, reaching out with weak hands, but I couldn't raise my arms.  "Hold on," I begged them, "I'll save you as soon as I release myself."

John and George said, in unison, "If you love us, help us, Elle."

The nightmare woke me around six in the morning, and I was up just as Brian began to work.  The lads didn't have to wake until another thirty minutes, so he let them sleep.  I immediately got dressed and went to help the manager.  He had the radio on, turned down low.  But because the room was silent, we heard the broadcast all too well.  

"Yesterday, your favorite mop-toped lads were seen at a hospital in Dallas, Texas.  Don't worry, ladies, none of your boys were hurt.  It appears as though they were taking a girl out of the hospital, quite possibly a sweetheart of one of the members.  Hopefully we'll have more on the story before the Beatles leave for home today."  The radio announcer seemed quite happy that he was unknowingly ruining my morning.  I looked over at Brian, knowing he had heard.  

Biting my lip, I said, "Sir, I'm really sorry for all of the delays I've caused."

He didn't respond.  

"Sir?" I asked again, timidly.  

"It's fine, Elle.  You obviously had some type of nervous breakdown.  It might be because of your work.  Since we're just flying home today, why won't you just take today off to rest on the plane ride home?"

I nodded, feeling bad, but was thankful for the rest.  

We rode to the airport, boarded the plane quickly and set off to England.  

I began to think, and grew tired.  Without knowing it, I fell asleep.  

John and George were safe and sound, along with Paul and Ringo.  I arrived at home, on the sidewalk in front of my house.  The sun was shining and the sky was bright blue.  It was a beautiful March day.  But when I walked inside, it seemed like all of the light had left the world.  My father grabbed me in the darkness and pulled me into the kitchen.  I screamed out for someone, anyone, but no one was there.  

"Where the hell have you been?" he bellowed.  After hiting me with such force that I stumbled back into the countertop, he growled, "Take off your shirt."  My father began to unclasp his belt, and I started to cry.

"Dad-"

"Shirt off now!" 

"No!"

"It's you or Mom, Elle!"

Sobbing, I undid the buttons on my blouse and turned my back to him.  The first lash blinded me with pain and made me drop to my knees.  As much as I screamed and cried, it seemed like no one heard me, no one cared.  "Help!  Please!" 

I rose once more to my feet, holding onto the counter with white knuckles.  "I'll do anything!" I cried to Dad.  He just kept whipping me.  The tender skin on my back felt like it was being ripped off inch by inch.  

"Just kill me!" I screamed.  "Please!"

My dad dropped the belt and grabbed my neck.  "That can be arranged.  You were never wanted by me anyway."  My vision blurred, but I woke before it faded to black.  I must have been making noises in my sleep, because Paul loomed over me, a concerned look over his face.