"Lexa!" her mom called, practically screaming.
Lexa shivered. She knew something was up. It was like she was traumatized by the sound of her own name.
"Yes, Mommy?"
Lexa walked down to the balcony. There she was—Meila—seated, sipping iced lemonade like she had no care in the world. Apparently, she didn't.
"Well, have you made up your mind? Actually, it doesn't matter. You have no choice."
She didn't, and Meila knew it. She knew her daughter better than anyone in the world… or so she thought.
"But Mum, you know I don't like the sight of blood."
"Get used to it," she snapped.
"Or you can talk to your father, then," she added with a smile.
Lexa sighed in frustration.
She dared not talk to her father about that—unless she wanted a beating. This conversation was impossible.
Why call me down here knowing I have no choice? To torture me?
"Hey!"
Lexa snapped back to reality. "Huh?"
"Your dad's back. Go talk to him."
"I'm sorry, Mum. I'll do what you want," Lexa said, shivering. She knew what would follow if she ever tried to say no.
"Lexaaa…" Her mother's tone now dripped with irritation.
"Please, Mum…"
"What's going on here?" said a deep voice from behind.
"Honey, Lexa has something to say to you," Meila said sweetly.
"Okayyy… Well, d-dad, it's nothing serio—"
"Speak out!" he shouted.
"Alaric, let her be," Meila said, smiling at Lexa.
"Don't go yelling at her like that. She's your daughter."
She turned to Alaric, her voice softening.
"Let's go inside so I can get you something to eat, okay? Come on, let's go."
As they walked away, she leaned close to Lexa and whispered,
"You owe me one."
Owe you one? Owe you one?!
Whatever happened to mothers supporting daughters? I can't believe this.
She thought it—but she couldn't bring herself to say it out loud.
**************************************************
Lexa, the second of four children, was a captive in her own home. She was, in fact. Her siblings were able to play outside with the other kids in the neighborhood, but she was not. She was beaten, all in the guise of "home training." Sometimes it seemed as if she were adopted, but that was not true. She had a peculiar resemblance to her mother—long black hair, brown eyes, and unmistakable beauty. very pretty, actually.
Lexa sobbed herself to bed that night after speaking with her parents. But in the midst of all the emotion, she did make one choice—she was going to take the tests. And she passed. Passing was not an issue for her, for she was a very smart student. Even with the drama at home, she would not allow her own problems to bleed into her academic life.
True to her words Lexa passed the exams and gained admission into Medical School.
Everyone was happy not necessarily for her but for their reputation.
Days turned into weeks and weeks into months...and Lexa was set to start college.