CHAPTER~2
947 Words
slowly opened my eyes in an unfamiliar room. Blankness weighed on me until I noticed the IV line in my hand and the sterile smell that made my stomach. A hospital.
Memories crashed back in…. walking out of prison after two years, the car, the figure in the road, those eyes, and someone calling my name.
Who was that? It couldn’t be Eric. He was pronounced dead two years ago… but what if?
“Ahh,” I winced, clutching my head as a sharp pain stabbed through it.
"Miss,” a nurse’s gentle voice pulled me back. She steadied me as I tried to sit up.
“Miss Cami, you need rest,” she said softly, handing me a pill and water.
My throat felt rough. “Who… saved me?”
“He’s in another ward. Sprained his ankle.”
Guilt tightened my chest. Why do I keep hurting the people around me?
The nurse tucked me back against the pillows and left. The room was quiet, except for the faint beeping of machines. A few minutes later, a doctor walked in with a small, reassuring smile.
“Miss Smith, you’re lucky. No injuries, but you need real rest. Seems you haven’t had much of that lately.”
“Thank you, Doctor. Can I see him now? The guy who helped me?” I asked, desperation slipping through my voice.
“Later. You need a good rest first” he said, giving a nod before leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I stared at the ceiling, a hollow thought gnawed at me. If he hadn’t pulled me out, I’d be gone now. Wouldn’t that have been better? Just leaving this world quietly?
A soft knock interrupted. “Come in,” I said, expecting the nurse again.
Instead, Lucia stepped inside. My little sister. Tears streaked her face, but even through them, her beauty clung to her… smooth skin, almond eyes, brows like ink strokes, lips like carved petals. Her hair was longer now than when I last saw her… and it clicks… how time flies. It’s been two years already.
Lucia, the angel. The innocent one. Everyone’s favorite. My lil fairy.
Seeing her stirred something sharp in me… anger, sorrow, confusion. Why now?
“Sister…” Her voice cracked as she rushed into a hug, squeezing me like she could stitch the years back together.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she cried.
I stayed still, letting her words wash over me like cold water. Her smell… lavender, clean. made a sick part of my chest twist. I let her cry. Let her think her hugs could fix what nobody could.
She pulled back, guilt plain in her eyes.
“Why are you here, Lucia?” I asked flatly.
“Dad wants me to bring you home. The family misses you.”
A bitter laugh slipped out. “Oh, really? My presence matters now, after two years? Is he ready to call himself the father of a murderer?”
“C’mon, Camellia. We’re family. Dad said he’s forgiven you. It’s all in the past.”
Her words cracked something inside me.
“Forgives me?” I laughed… an ugly sound that tore at my throat as the tears I’d been holding back burst free. “Family? What’s family, Lucia? Tell me! Tell me your definition of family!” My voice broke into jagged pieces.
Her hands flew to her mouth. “Don’t Cami, please….”
“Don’t tell me to be quiet!” Rage boiled up hot and ugly. “You had the nerve to show up after two years and lecture me? Explain to me how that works. How do you sleep at night thinking your only sister was locked away in a dark cell for a crime she didn’t commit, and now you walk in trying to fix everything with tears and a pretty face?” My voice climbed, jagged.
“A man who threw me out without a second thought when I needed him most? A man who said he could never be the father of a murderer? Now he wants me back like I’m some toy he can toss around when he’s bored?” My chest heaved. “You all abandoned me when I needed you most. So hear me well I’ll abandon you too. From this moment, I am an orphan.”
“Camellia…”
She reached for me like she always had, but I shoved her hand away. “Don’t touch me.” The words came out harder than intended. Her eyes went glassy.
“Get out!” I screamed, shoving her hand away when she reached for me again.
Her tears fell faster. “What about Mum? Won’t you see her at least once. She cries every night for you.”
“Mum?” I barked. “She’s not good enough to be called my mother,” I spat, my voice trembling with rage.
“Now out!” I hurled a glass to the floor, the shatter ringing through the room. She stumbled back, terrified, and ran.
As soon as the door shut, pain surged through me. My head throbbed, the room spun, and whispers clawed into my skull.
“You’ll pay for this”
“She killed him, She killed him”
“I’ll haunt you till I die”
“You murderer”
My father’s voice echoed last, cruel and final. “I can never be the father of a murderer”
I clutched my head, screaming, until darkness pulled me under. The machines beside me blared.
“Miss Smith! Miss Smith!” the nurse’s panicked cry was the last sound I heard before everything went black.
- Writer
