My Name Was Emily (1)

Emily

They say life is full of unpleasant surprises. I've only faced three in my fifteen years. I wish I could claim I was grateful for that, but I don't feel lucky in the least right now.

The first shock occurred when I was eight years old, after Mom's problem revealed itself. The second surprise arrived two years back, when I realized I would lose my friend. The third one came a few hours ago, when my friend's family tried to kidnap me. They hadn't just tried, they'd pulled it off, chasing me down when I'd fled the van, poking my arm with that needle of theirs.

Now I'd woken up in a small gray room. My vision was hazy as I gazed about. It seemed I was laying in a hospital.

Obviously, that wasn't good, but I felt relief washing over me. Had I been rescued and driven here?

“Hold still, sweetie,” a calm voice said.

My frame grew tense. I looked to the right.

Mrs. Porter sat within a small white chair, holding my gaze with concern on her face. “You need to be relaxed when the doctor arrives.”

I was still sporting my normal clothes. “What doctor?” I muttered, eyeing the door. “What's going on? Why am I here?” I wasn't so sure I really wanted to know. It was pretty clear that I hadn't been saved. There were several signs to the contrary. She'd called me “sweetie.” We were alone.

My left arm was tethered to the side of the bed.

The door swung open and a man walked in. He wore a blue mask above his bright blue scrubs. Was he the doctor she'd spoken about? “Good evening, Lizzie,” he said to me. The smile looked forced underneath that veil.

I shivered a bit, inching back. “That isn't my name. What is this place?”

“You're in a private clinic. It's just us six: me, my partner, your family, and you.” He made another grin. It still looked false.

“They're not my family!” I said nervously. This was my chance. It had to be taken. “They kidnapped me! They forced me here.” I glanced at Mrs. Porter, who licked her lips, taking a breath as though calming herself.

“Em...” He paused before saying my name. “Lizzie,” he uttered, clearing his throat.

I eyed him again. He appeared tense. The man clearly knew who I actually was.

“You need to lay down,” he managed to say. “You need to sleep now.”

There was no way I was going to sleep. Hadn't he heard what I'd said to him?

That was when reality began to sink in. The Porters had money. I knew that well. They'd bribed this guy to ignore my words.

But that wasn't all they had paid him for. This became apparent as he stepped in close, attaching a clear mask over my face. A weird scent made its way into my nose.

“Inhale slowly,” the doctor said.

I tried to squirm. I tried to fight.

Mrs. Porter settled my quivering hand. “Rest now, sweetie,” she murmured to me.

The obvious question came into my head, the one I'd tried asking before in the car. Why? I wondered, staring at her. I'd loved this woman for so many years. Why was she putting me through all of this? Why had she labeled us “family?”

My limbs grew still. My muscles calmed. Then the whole room began fading in black.

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