Chapter 3 – Forced to Act

1111 Words
Ariana’s POV “Where is she?” I questioned myself when I emerged out of the last house on my list, and, as usual, she was not there. “Where are you Alina?” I mumbled. I had already checked all possible places I could think of last night after father had left my room. I had called at the houses of the friends of Alina, mocked at all the doors, inquired of every person I could recall that she had spoken to. No one knew where she was. I massaged my forehead and groaned. There was only one place left. I was forced to visit the police station. Maybe they could help. Perhaps, they might locate her in time. The ride there was quiet. I barely noticed the traffic. I just thought about Alina, my sister, my twin, the loved one of everyone yet the only one who sometimes cared about me, and how she may vanish without any trace. My stomach churned. How could this be happening? I arrived at the station and went into it and to the front desk. “I… I want to file a kissing person report,” I said, endeavoring to maintain my voice. The officer glared up at me and scowled seeing my blood soaked shirt. “Who’s missing? And why are you covered in blood?” “My sister. Alina Hale,” I replied ignoring his other question. “She disappeared last night.” And as if on cue, blood ran down my nose, and i used my shirt to wipe. The man squirmed. “I am sorry, Miss Hale, but it has not been twenty-four hours since she went. You will be required to report back after twenty four hours in case you wish to report a missing person. I froze. “What? That… that’s impossible! You see you sir, it is her wedding day! She is to be married to day! He shook his head. “I’m sorry, but that’s the law. We cannot do anything until the necessary time is elapsed.” I walked out of the police station more helpless than ever before. Upon returning to the mansion, no one was in the living room, except my father. He was standing close to the window and he was looking anxious with his hands pressed against the glass. As he caught sight of me he turned and his face was full of anger. “There you are!” he barked. “Where have you been? And no more excuses of yours this time!” “I… I had gone to look for sister.” “Do not lie to me!” he exclaimed, his voice growing higher. “I am fully aware of what you are up to. You and Alina are playing games and I am not falling to it!” “I swear it’s not a joke!” I said, my voice shaking. “I do not know where she is!” He did not answer instantly. “Then tell me the truth, or I will make you put on the gown, “ he said slowly and with a low cold voice. I froze. My stomach dropped. My chest was as though it had been caught between an iron hand. “Father…” I started, my voice trembling. “Please... we may file a missing person report. It is possible to make more calls, visit more destinations. Don’t make me do this—” His voice interrupted me, and was as sharp as a whip. “Is it possible that a report will make a difference? You do not know anything, Ariana but we do. I am aware of where your sister is hiding. I know she’s with you. I have no idea what sick game you two are playing And, unless you take her out, unless you do what is necessary, you will be the bride.” I shook my head, stepping back. “I don’t know where she is!” It is, I said, more desperate this time. “I swear I don’t! You need not make me, please, you need not—“ “Fine,” he said after some time. “You wanted money right? You wanted to work right? Do this as a job, replace your sister at the altar till she is found, I’ll make sure you’ll get the best doctors to treat you.” I could feel my hands shaking. My chest heaved. I would have screamed, would have run, would have hid. I would have given anything rather than what he was insisting. And yet… I realized that I could not argue any more. I had no options but nod in agreement. He took out his phone and placed a call. Several minutes afterward, a physician came to the mansion. He was the one who had attended to me previously, and knew my condition. My father signaled me to sit and the doctor was about to make a special injection. “This will put a stop to your bleeding,” my father said, his voice quite remarkably quiet, almost business-like. “Once it’s done, you’ll be ready.” I swallowed hard. I rolled up my sleeve and my hands were trembling. The injection was done by the doctor and I could feel the sting of the needle. My blood gradually ceased to flow. Relief mixed with fear. “Thank you father.” I mumbled. He did not answer in a flash. He just gave me a dress, the wedding dress of my sister, which was white and heavy. I held it gradually, my hands touching the fine material. The thought of putting it on, of standing up in front of all those people, of being that person I was not, made my chest tighten. “You have to act like her,” he said at last. “At the wedding. Do this and I will give you the money to your treatments and I will ensure that someone discovers a cure to your illness. But you have to do it. No mistakes. No lies. No excuses.” I nodded slowly, but my heart was beating in my chest. I had no other choice. I did not wish to do so but I had to. But my life, my treatment, my little hope that I can live. He gave me a piece of paper folded up. I opened it carefully. On it, in handwriting, were the words: Your vows. I looked at the paper and my hands trembled and my chest tightened. I could barely breathe. I muttered to myself, with a little voice, and doubtful. “My vows…”
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