“Ella!” She was awoken abruptly. “Ella! Ellaaaa!”
Ella groaned and rolled out of bed. “Ella!”
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” she called out. She stepped into her slippers and trudged down the stairs.
“Finally!” Anastasia said, hands on her hips, upon seeing Ella. “I have got to have my laundry done!”
“I’m sure you do,” Ella muttered. Anastasia raised her eyebrows. “Okay,” Ella said, making her way to Anastasia’s room to grab the laundry basket.
“Ella!” Charlotte called, peeking her head out from her room. “When is breakfast going to be ready?”
“Fifteen minutes,” Ella answered. Charlotte rolled her eyes and popped her head back into her room, shutting the door behind her.
“Well, you can’t expect Charlotte to starve,” Lacey spoke from down the hall. She had opened her door and was standing in the doorway in her nightgown. “And don’t forget my laundry, Mary-Beth.”
Ella continued walking down the stairs carrying the laundry basket, but was stopped by an arm on hers.
“Well?” asked Lacey expectantly.
“Yes, stepmother,” Ella grumbled. Lacey released her and sauntered off back to her room.
Ella closed her eyes briefly. Don’t rock the boat, she reminded herself before making her way to the laundry room.
Ella prepared eggs and bacon for the family, and set it out on the table with some orange juice. “Breakfast,” she announced unceremoniously and made her way to the spare bedroom to eat some oatmeal. She wasn’t there long before Charlotte came in to speak with her.
“Don’t forget to pick me up from school today,” Charlotte reminded her. “I’m getting off at five. Don’t be late.” Ella nodded in response.
Charlotte was the “entertainer” of the family, although giving her that title was rather generous. She was in her junior year of high school, and her time in chorus and theater did not appear to have lent her much in the way of musical or acting abilities. She was decidedly untalented, although there was no telling her that. Her mother only encouraged her, constantly assuring her she’d grow up to be a famous movie star. It was a total pipe dream.
Still, Charlotte was friendlier than her elder sisterly counterpart, Anastasia. Both were equally obsessed with their appearance, but Charlotte had a natural beauty Anastasia did not. Whereas Charlotte would dress up what she already had with makeup and curled hair, Anastasia lacked any makeup skills or fashion proficiency, and often overdid her appearance with lipstick far too dark to be flattering for her skin tone and clothes too tight for her not-so-lean body. Whereas Charlotte was adept at dressing for her slightly-overweight, plus-size body in a way that was complimentary, Anastasia entirely lacked that ability. She was quite large, with hair that had been overly bleached, resulting in a coarse texture; foundation two shades too orange, and a booming overconfidence to go with it.
Both Charlotte and Anastasia highly desired to meet and marry some rich, sophisticated gentlemen, although in different fashions; Charlotte expected she’d soon fall in love with an accomplished actor who complimented her in the way Richard Burton complimented Elizabeth Taylor, and Anastasia seemed to expect a wealthy man to fall out of the sky and propose to her, swooping her away to his grand mansion. Both girls were equally delusional. Ella felt something akin to sympathy for them, at times, knowing the futility of their unassailable beliefs, which had been brought on, since birth, by their mother, but both girls were so intolerable Ella found it difficult to feel pity for them for any considerable length of time.
Anastasia was presently in her fifth year of community college, with about two more to go. Her road to a Bachelor’s Degree was slow, but Ella couldn’t say she wasn’t trying. She spent a bit too much time partying and not enough studying, but her class passing rate was technically higher than her class failure rate. At times, Ella wished she had gone to community college, but her stepmother refused to sign the college financial forms for student aid, and forging them proved harder than she’d anticipated. She had no desire to join the armed forces in exchange for an eventual degree, and she was likely entirely too impatient to make it through, anyway. Ella’s life had certainly not taken her where she’d hoped it would have by now, but she persisted, spurred on by the desire to obtain the knowledge as to what had happened to her mother so many years ago.
Ella spent the day marking off the chores on the list her stepmother had given her. Much of the cleaning was superfluous, and only added by Lacey to occupy Ella’s time and remind her how under the control of her stepmother she really was. Ella grew increasingly annoyed by the chores as the day wore on, and hoped no one would attempt to interrupt her, as she knew she would likely snap at them and land herself even more chores to do. Ella wasn’t sure where she’d gotten her temper from, but it certainly was hot.
It was after eight pm when Ella finally retired to her attic bedroom, exhausted. She sat down on her bed and Lucifer jumped on her lap, his tail wagging back and forth. She closed her eyes briefly, only to be snapped out of her reverie by the sound of a rock hitting her window. Ella ignored it, but when another one hit her window seconds later, she rolled her eyes and got up.
“Don’t you sleep?” Ella called crossly to the figure below.
“It’s eight o’clock,” he replied.
“I thought athletes slept a lot.”
“I’m unique. Are you going to come down? I’ve been trying to text you all day.”
“Sorry, I wasn’t looking at my phone. I’ll come down.”
Ella took her time walking down the stairs and out the back door. “You know we have a doorbell,” she said.
“I know,” Jack replied. “But this is much more fun.”
Jonathan Davidson was an athletic young man of average height, with a medium, muscular build, brown hair, brown skin and innocent brown eyes, which hardly concealed the fact that was deeply in love with Ella. Ella did not return the sentiment, but Jack was her best and only friend. He had stuck beside her through thick and thin; had supported her obsession with solving her mother’s disappearance; had been her prom date; had offered to her whatever from him she could possibly want at any time she could possibly want it, if only Ella ever chose to accept. Ella knew of Jack’s feelings, and wished she could return them, but she did not, and she hoped he would find someone who loved him equally to live out his life with.
“You’re just afraid of Lacey,” Ella muttered.
“Maybe a little,” Jack allowed. “You haven’t been answering your phone lately.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I’ve just been stressed out with work and everything.”
“Well, I had to come over to make sure you’re still going tomorrow.”
“Oh, of course. Wouldn’t miss it,” Ella told him, not wanting to admit she had entirely forgotten about the promise she’d made to attend the events of the next day.
Jack was a minor-league baseball player with major-league ambitions and, some might say, talent. At 21, he was arguably the best batter on the Sand Crabs Baseball Team. The next day scouts would be watching their practice, and Jack, like many others on the team, hoped to be chosen to go major. The main thing holding him back was a sneaking suspicion other members of the team were actively trying to sabotage him. He told himself he was being paranoid, and they were only harassing him because he was the newest member of the team, but it was becoming increasingly more difficult to justify their behavior as anything other than full-on collusion.
“Great,” Jack enthused, not realizing he’d just held Ella to a promise to do something that was to be both incredibly boring and unfulfilling for her. The pair walked around the neighborhood, talking about nothing in particular. Jack, although handsome and fit, was very much a nerd, with strong enthusiasm for topics Ella did not care for. Their relationship consisted of either Jack talking about his dreams of the future and science fiction movies, Ella complaining passionately about her life and all its miseries, or a combination of both. Tonight, Ella allowed Jack to make the majority of the conversation. Eventually, she returned home, citing a need to get some rest before work the next day. Jack reminded her, once again, not to forget her promise, and she reassured him he had nothing to worry about.
The next day, Ella absolutely forgot about her promise. Eventually, Lon reminded her that she had requested the afternoon off, and she shot out of her chair. She arrived late, and Jack, who’d no doubt been worried, smiled at her when he saw her arrive. Ella sat in the bleachers far from anyone else and opened a book on methods of police investigation, glancing up occasionally to see that, as expected, nothing of interest was happening. Finally, Ella got up to go; she had to return to the office with Lon’s car.
Had to go. Needed to get back. Have Lon’s car, Ella texted Jack and briskly got up, walking out as he was distracted.
Ella lay awake in bed that night, thinking. Her usual burning passion had diminished over the past couple weeks, as she’d become increasingly depressed with the state of her life and its lack of forward momentum. She wanted desperately to get out of this godforsaken house, but she couldn’t think of a way out or, more accurately, a way out that would be either moral or not involve giving up on her goal of discovering the cause of her mother’s disappearance. To Ella, giving up on discovering the cause of her mother’s disappearance was the same as giving up on her mother, and she could not possibly bring herself to do that, regardless of how sorry for herself she felt.
⧫
Ella showed up to Lon’s house with an assortment of accessories she’d picked up from the dollar store.
“Planning a heist?” he asked, motioning to the bag of products from his seat at the dining room table.
“I have a plan,” Ella responded. She swiftly began unpacking the accessories: a large, floppy hat, oversized sunglasses, a few magazines and a romance novel.
“Hmm,” Lon mused. “Are you going undercover?”
“That’s the plan,” Ella answered. “I’m going to catch Mrs. Dhar’s husband today, one way or another.”
“I don’t see a top hat and bow tie here, so I’m guessing you won’t be needing my help.”
“I think I got this one, Lon,” Ella said confidently.
Lon looked amused, but he did not question Ella. He knew she needed to learn on her own; she was too stubborn to accept much criticism or advice. She was smart; although rather too hasty, she’d figure things out in the end.
Isabella shooed Lon out of the house with Ella, and they retreated to the office. Ella tried to be enthusiastic as she got in the car to carry out her plan. She tried to view the situation as some sort of undercover spy mission, where she was saving the world by bringing Mr. Dhar to justice. Anything to take away the frustration of her everyday existence.
Dignity, Ella figured, is something people take for granted. People don’t appreciate dignity when they have it, but when it’s gone, it’s like being trapped underwater with only a straw to breathe out of. You thrash about, attempting, in vain, to break through the ice oppressing you and suck in a clean breath, but the air never comes. You become frustrated, lash out, feel righteous anger and disappointed despair. You fight for your life for a while, but eventually, you give up. You accept your fate, survive, but never live again. Your life is over, your happiness shot; you attain peace, but it is a defeated, unharmonious, enslaved peace that is far, far worse than any discontent you could ever experience; giving up the war is much worse than losing the battle.
Ella had not stopped fighting yet. She had been stripped of her dignity by her stepmother, but she had not fully given in. She was often angry and quick-tempered, other times depressed, but she had not submitted to Lacey Tremaine’s grasp-not yet. She was starting to feel the pointlessness of the fight. She was becoming tired of being angry and had exhausted herself fighting with Lacey. She saw no way out of her situation, and was beginning to give up hope, understanding the futility of her actions. Still, she continued to fighting, but she was running out of spirit.
As is not uncommon, Ella had abandoned her anger momentarily, and could feel a dreadful depression creeping upon her. She hardly ever felt any peace or joy in her life; she fluctuated, instead, between depression and frustration, with little reprieve between the two extremes. Ella had heard that depression was simply anger turned inwards. This didn’t make a lot of sense to her, but it was true in a lot of ways she couldn’t presently see. She was angry at herself for not fixing her life: moving out of her family home, solving her mother’s disappearance, being a successful individual who didn’t have to worry about whether or not she’d be able to pay rent and, most of all, not having to acquiesce to Lacey’s every whim.
Trying to make being a private investigator “fun” was one way Ella used her resilience. Lacey couldn’t get to her at work if she chose not to think about her. This was much easier said than done, but the idea was still a good one. Ella knew the depression was slowly taking over, but she would try to hold it off as long as she could. She would try and enjoy life before she was sucked away in a cloud of misery.
Ella once again waited outside the church for Mr. Dhar and the mystery woman. They got out late, when cars in the parking lot were few and far between. Ella slumped down in the seat, her hat flopping down and covering her face, but the effort was unwarranted. The pair didn’t notice her. They got into Mr. Dhar’s car, and Ella discreetly followed them out of the lot.
This time, Ella felt as though she was tracing Mr. Dhar for quite a while. Ella was confused as to where they were going, and the longer she followed them, the more worried she became they’d notice her. Luckily, Mr. Dhar was sticking to major highways, so Ella wasn’t too noticeable, but she worried for the moment when he’d pull into a more discreet roadway. Ella’s anxiety grew, and she wished Mr. Dhar would just stop somewhere already. Eventually, after over two hours, they ended up in an upper-class, suburban area.
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