Marilyn

Chapter 2

Author's Note: I don't like to choose people as characters of the story, because I think it's better when the reader (YOU) imagine yourself. You imagine the character as however and whoever you want. But, just to clear any confusions the character on the cover is pregnant Pamela. Long over due, but I dedicated this to ZaraZMalik because she was great enough to add this to her reading list. Thank you (for being the only one!) :P ♥

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pamela's POV: I jolted awake as I felt rough hands dragging me down our long marble staircase. I quickly took in my surroundings to see my husband dragging me down the stairs, shoving me at the last step, towards his mother and someone that seemed to be a doctor. I could sense that the doctor wanted to help, but he stood their unable to connect his gaze with me. I could tell this wasn't one of my husband's dirty friends, and must have been one of my husband's victim instead. He was probably being threatened or blackmailed in some way to be here. My husband yelled at the doctor to hurry up, his voice echoing through the hallways of our large abode. The doctor set up some equipment as I realized, it was time. It was time for the doctor to check whether I was having a boy or girl. I was frightened. What would I do if I was having a girl? How would I escape? I started to hyperventilate. My husband noticed, and said, "Dear wife, why are you worried?" The sarcasm in his voice gave me goosebumps. He pulled me back by the hair and said, "As long as we have a son, you'll be just fine. If we don't, then well you don't want that to happen, now do you?" His voice got louder as he spoke, and his grip on my hair stronger. I couldn't help but let out a scream. His expression quickly changed to fake worry, as he let go of my hair, saying, "Oh so sorry, honey, I didn't mean to hurt you." Then, he began laughing like a madman. I wiped away the tears that rolled down my cheeks, and made my way to the seat the doctor pulled out for me. The doctor carefully examined me, and suddenly, I saw a quick of expression of fear cover the face of the doctor. Just as quickly, he composed himself, and made his way slowly over to my husband. He began, "Sir...your wife i-is pregnant  with a..." I was gripping the side of the seat so hard my knuckles turned white, and my nails dug into my own palm. "She's p-p-pregnant with a son," the doctor stuttered. Relief washed over me as I loosened my grip and felt the slight sting where my nails had been. My husband tightly, and forcefully embraced me. He cheered and laughed happily. Now that he learned he was having a son, he was adamant about my well-being. He wanted me healthy, so the baby would be born happily. I was taken back upstairs, this time with more care, back to Patricia's room. He told me to take full bed-rest as he threw a party in celebration of the happy news. I was about to shut my eyes, when the doctor came in the room. He seemed extremely worried. He said, "I have something to tell you...Y-y-you're not having a son." He began speaking faster, no pause in his words. I told him to slow down and explain me slowly. He slowed down, still feeling uncomfortable. He glanced at the door every now and then, out of fear that my husband would show up. But, my husband was partying outside, i could hear the music thumping loudly. The doctor said, "I'm sorry Pamela, but I lied. I lied to protect you. The truth is you're having a daughter. After this, there's not much more I can do, but you have to escape." he emphasized the urgency. He told me to run away. He said it was the perfect opportunity to run away because my husband wouldn't even notice with the party going on. He said that he bought me time, by lying to my husband. I decided he was right. I had to escape. I was going to save my life, along with the life of my daughter Patricia, and my other baby in my womb, too. I shook Patricia awake and told her about escaping. She asked no questions and quietly agreed to all my instructions. We didn't even pack anything, because we would easily be noticed. All I took was some money that Brent left in my room as "reward" for having a son. We quietly made it to the gate. The guards were too busy letting guests in for the party, so we quietly slipped past them, the night's blackness hiding us. We made it out and we started to make our way to the train station. We came to a sudden stop as a set of bright lights blinded us. A couple came out of the car. I stood in awe as I recognized them to be friends of my husband. The lady, came to me and asked, "Honey, why are you here, and with dear Patricia too. Especially in this condition. Shouldn't you be at the party?" I sensed they were suspicious and I had no choice but to get away, so I ran. in my physical state, it was very difficult but I made it. I ran, Patricia running alongside me. We made it to the train station and snuck into a random train. We hid under the seats to hide from the train ticket collector. Some women across the seats saw us and didn't seem like the type to keep quiet, so we had to bribe them with my pure gold jewelry. The ticket collector passed by, and we remained hidden until we reached a stop.

Doctor's POV: I was terrified. I knew I had to escape. If I was caught, I would be killed immediately. I made my way to the gate, but before I could leave the dwelling, a hand covered my mouth and pulled me back by the waist. I was blindfolded and knocked out. When I finally regained consciousness, I realized I was standing on a chair. My hands were tied behind my back, and a rope was tied around my neck, connected to a ceiling fan. I knew I'd been captured. I just wondered why I wasn't killed off as soon as I was caught. Sir Brent answered my question. He began yelling and asking me where Pamela had gone. Someone must have seen Pamela escape, relaying the information back to Sir Brent. The truth was that even if I knew where Pamela had gone, I wouldn't have told Sir Brent. Sir Brent said he'd ask me two questions and give me two chances for each question. For every chance I ruined, he would hack off a chair leg. He liked to play cruel games like this - it gave him sick pleasure. His first question remained the same - Where was Pamela? I didn't know so I ignored him the first time. One leg down. I struggled to stay upright one the three-legged chair. I knew I'd be dying, so after building up my courage, I spit in his face the second time he asked me. He got even angrier, and down went the second leg. I nearly lost balance now. He asked, "Why did Pamela leave?!" I knew this one, and I felt it didn't matter if he knew now so I told him. I told him that he was actually going to be the father of a daughter - not of a son. This time just out of anger he hacked off the third leg. This time he took out his gun - his prized possesion. He was ready to shoot me, but I wasn't about to die by the hands of a beast, so I let myself go. I kicked down the chair breathing out my last few moments of life. 

Pamela's POV: We made it to....California? It seemed like it. We strolled along the roads, when I felt a tug on the hem of my dress. I looked down to see Patricia. She said, "I'm hungry." Her voice was so soft and tired. I took all of my "reward" money and went to buy a snack for her from a small market. I told her I'd be right back and to stay seated on a bench. She listened as she began munching on the Oreos I got her. I went back to the market and requested the cashier to use the phone. After some begging, she finally gave in. She said I could make one phone call. I called my sister - my last hope. We lost contact after I got married to Brent. But, she would still help me in my time of need, right? A few rings passed by until her husband picked up. I was so relieved. I told him of our situation or atleast tried to. Before I could finish, he made it clear to me that there was no longer any relationship between my sister and I. He said those bonds were broken the day I went against her decision to marry Brent. I tried to apologize and emphasize my regret, but he wouldn't listen. He hung up on me. I had no one left to call, so I went back to Patricia. When I saw her feeding the last of her Oreos to a stray dog, I exploded. I didn't mean to, but I couldn't help it. I started yelling at her in public, "How could you do that?! That was all we had to eat and you gave it to some dog! We don't have anymore money!" I was about to keep going, but I started getting dizzy and I fainted. When I woke up I was in a bed. I looked to my right and saw a woman handing Patricia a lollipop, which Patricia gladly accepted. I tried to get up, but my head hurt extremely bad. The woman noticed I woke up and came to me. She helped me out of bed and guided me to a couch to sit down. I sat down and she introduced herself to me. "Hi, I'm Roxy and you are?" She asked. I knew by staying here that I was putting her in danger, so I said, "I'm sorry, but we have to go." I got up, but Roxy pushed me back down onto the couch. She said, "Excuse me. First, of all you're not going anywhere until you tell me who you are. You should be thanking me actually. I saw you faint on the street, and I brought you in. I even had a doctor check you since I noticed you were pregnant. You're fine and all, but I'd like to know who you are. And what you're doing outside in such a fragile condition. And if not for your sake, tell me for this young girl's sake." She was about to continue, but I cut her off, "I'm Pamela. This is my daughter Patricia. We just...came to this city because of dire circumstances. I was looking for a place to stay, or a place to work. " Her face erupted into a giant smile. She exclaimed, "That's great. I mean I don't about your circumstances and what-not, but you can live here. Either way, I get lonely here, since my brother goes on business trips a lot. And, you can work with me!" I said we couldn't stay because we didn't want to be a burden, but she wouldn't listen. She insisted, so I agreed. I asked her what her job was. She told me she worked as an extra in films. She would play minor roles in movies. I wasn't acting material. I didn't even like the spotlight. I refused. She glared at me and replied, "You got a better idea?" She was right, though. If I wanted to provide for Patricia, then I needed a job. As if she knew I would accept, she broke into another huge smile and said, "See you tomorrow! Tomorrow's your first day on the job!"