Rest In Peace (sequel to After They Died)

28- Ellie

I feel my whole world falling apart in the few words he says to me. It was him? My supposed hero was actually my captor in disguise? I feel so stupid, so naive. My last sliver of hope is stamped, crushed mercilessly by the soles of his expensive trainers.

That boy- who's name I still don't know- hurt me in the worst way possible and then pretended to be my saviour. He must be the one mentally ill, not me. But who is Rachel and why can't I remember her? My twin sister was snatched away from me before I could even know her. Where are my parents? Why aren't they here for me?

The shock that coursed through my veins when he finally came clean flattened all of my chances of health improvement. I was feeling just that tiny bit better this morning, but he just didn't get it did he? Some hero he is.

When I woke up from the exhausting seizure, feeling tender and bruised like I'd had no improvement merely hours before, I cried and cried. The nurses were concerned, they called the lady who visits me and she hugged me, reassured me that I was fine. Ha, I'll never be fine again. How could he think that he could get away with that- does he think I'm stupid? The tears burst out of me, like a waterfall, I sob for hours on end and nobody knows why. They think I'm traumatised and suffering flashbacks. Salty drips drench my nightgown but I don't care anymore. I want to let it all out- to weep until there's nothing left, but it seems like I will never be able to stop, I have lost all control in a wild breakdown. My throat is raw, like I've swallowed sandpaper but I can't stop now. Feelings of grief, loss and pure misery drown me, holding outstretched arms, beckoning me into their welcoming embrace of inconsolable sadness.

I refuse to eat my lukewarm meals despite the nurses worrying glances, insisting on getting my strength back. They can't force me to do anything I don't want to do. But still, the neglected meal of pasta bake sits on my plate, a strong scent of cheese encouraging me. But why should I eat, why shouldn't I just give up?

Clumps of eyelashes stick together, coated in thick tears and the kind lady looks desperate to help me, but nobody can help me: I'm a lost cause. They should just let me fade away into the shadows of death. It's not like anyone would miss me anyway...