Uncle John shook his head and pressed a finger over my lips. “You’ll only be asleep for a while. And when you wake up, things like this won’t be able to happen anymore.” He kissed my lips, and I tried to fight the grip of my twin uncles, but Uncle Jeffrey struck my face again, and the back of my head smacked against the table I was on.
I cried out as they tightened their grips on my wrists. “Think of all the fun we can have afterwards,” Uncle John said. My papa moved beside him and pulled him away by the arm.
A woman came from behind me, and I looked up into her eyes. They were brown. She had a green mask over her mouth and rubbery gloves on her hands.
“Help me,” I managed to whisper, ignoring the tears that fell down my lips. My mouth was dry. My tongue felt too fat in my mouth. But she looked away, took something in her hand. Then I saw a mask coming toward me. She pushed it over my mouth . . . the room began to spin as I breathed . . . then everything went black.
When I woke I was in my room. I tried to move, my body trying to get out of my bed. Confusion filled my head. But when I tried to move, a slicing pain from my stomach made it impossible.
“Ellis,” a soft voice called from the doorway. My bottom lip shook at the amount of pain I felt. Mrs. Jenkins came toward me with a cup of tea in her hand. She sat next to me on the bed. “Shh, sweetie,” she soothed. I cried harder.
“Mrs. Jenkins . . .” I rasped, my voice dry and my throat sore. “What happened? My stomach hurts. Everything hurts.”
Mrs. Jenkins brought the tea to my mouth. “It’s Earl Grey, sweetie. Your favorite.” I didn’t want the tea. I always wanted tea, but not right now. Mrs. Jenkins didn’t give me a choice. She tipped the liquid into my mouth. She made me drink it all. My throat felt better as the hot tea spilled down it.
When all the tea had been drunk, my eyes began to close. Mrs. Jenkins’s hand pressed against my forehead. I was nearly asleep, but I still heard Mrs. Jenkins place the china cup on my nightstand. Still felt her move my comforter down my body and touch something around the place my stomach pained me most.
Still heard her say, “A scar is a small price to pay for the comfort that you’ll never have babies, Ellis. That baby was better off not entering this world. It was the best thing for you both . . . best you can never get pregnant again . . .”
I gasped and ripped my hand from Rabbit’s. “I can’t breathe,” I cried. My hand flew to my chest and rubbed. But it didn’t help. So I clawed. I clawed at the place over my heart. It was beating too fast.
“Dolly.” Rabbit sat up next to me. But I needed to be off the bed. I jumped off the mattress, my nightgown hanging open. But I still couldn’t breathe.
“ . . .you’ll never have babies, Ellis . . .”
Scar . . . scar . . . scar . . .
I closed my eyes and propped my hand against the wall. I smacked at the side of my skull with my hand when I couldn’t get the nasty thoughts from my head. When I couldn’t get the voices out of my ears.
Ellis . . . Ellis . . . Ellis . . .Why were they calling me Ellis?
Sweat ran down my chest. I pushed off the wall and walked in circles, but the voices just kept getting louder. Uncle John . . . Uncle John . . . Uncle John’s voice . . .
Who was Uncle John?
“No.” I opened my eyes. I shook my head, backing against the wall. My nails moved down to my wrists and to my arms, clawing at the flesh. I clawed and clawed until the blood began to pour. I was covered in blood. So much blood. Mine. Rabbit’s . . . a baby’s . . .
“No!” I screamed and slumped to the ground. I threw my hands on the side of my head and began to rock. Why were they calling me Ellis? Ellis had a scar.
She had a scar!
I ripped my hands from my head and looked down. I wiped away the blood on my stomach with the material of my nightgown, soaking the white material with red. But then I saw it. I would never have noticed it if I wasn’t looking. It was almost not there. But I saw it.
I had the scar . . .
But Ellis . . . Ellis had the scar. Not Dolly. Dolly didn’t have the scar. The bad men had hurt Ellis. Her twin uncles and Uncle John . . . her Uncle John, the nastiest man of all.