27 July 1985 – Saturday
Richmond, Kentucky
Blake Peterson married Georgia Williams on a beautiful but sweltering summer day. She wore an off-white dress with red flowers sewn around the hem. Blake wore a dark grey suit and had a red rose in his pocket.
Angellica was her Bridesmaid and wore a pale pink dress and Adam paired her as the Best Man in a dark grey suit with a pink rose.
The ceremony was short but sweet. They spoke their vows beneath the Oak tree in Georgia’s back yard. No one knew that she was pregnant, she barely showed beneath her dress. The doctor had confirmed her situation, and announced she was thirteen weeks pregnant. Blake and Georgia were delighted and had already made big plans to get a house together after the wedding and get ready for their baby.
Angellica watched as Georgia and Blake’s family and friends congratulated them, and allowed herself to dream that maybe Adam might be her husband one day.
It turned out that dream would be the one thing that would curse her.
The next morning after spending the night together in the loft, he had broken the worst news.
He was leaving. He left that afternoon.
His father needed him to go away and run the business that was about to start construction on a large office building in Canada.
Blake and Georgia tried to help as best they could, but with their baby due in January, they had a lot to organise.
Lawrence was still trying to help Charlotte out of her deep ominous pit.
She waited by the phone and by the letterbox for nearly three months before her world truly stopped turning.
Angellica got forgotten.
She fell into a deep dark hole, and she stayed there, revolving around in an evil cycle of depression, hate and anger. She stayed in her hole for months. She stopped attending school. Her horses were left. Her beautiful little car sat in the driveway not driven.
The birth of Georgia and Blake’s baby passed. Charlotte started to improve and Angellica fell further, still forgotten. She barely ate, she shrunk to 45 kilograms, she slept 20 hours a day, she stayed in her dark little hole.
The month before her 17th birthday, she lay in her bed. She thought about having a shower. She couldn’t remember when she had a shower last. She couldn’t remember when hair had been washed last. She couldn’t remember the date, and had no idea on the time. She felt like she was peering out of a dark well. There was a small circle of light on the wall, as if the sun was reflecting on a mirror. She tried to focus on the light; she didn’t have a mirror in her bedroom.
“Where am I?” She said to herself, her voice a mere croak.
Angellica twisted onto her side and felt a tug at her hand. She pulled it from under the blankets, and slowly lifted it into her line of sight.
“What?” She stared at her hand; it had an I.V. line in it. Angellica dropped her hand, it was heavy and looked further around the room and realised it wasn’t her room, or her bed. Her wall was a curtain. She tried to sit up but her body wouldn’t co-operate. She twisted to look around her.
“Hospital?” She asked herself. “Hello?” She called weakly. Angellica was stunned. “Hello?” She called again.
“Nurse!” The person on Angellica’s left called out.
Angellica jumped in fright. “Hello?” She said.
“Nurse!” The girl next door yelled again.
YOU ARE READING
