Elara couldn't help but let out a disbelieving chuckle while holding her cheek.
The person she confided in, the person she thought would help her, actually told them. He told the very people he knew would keep her trapped here. He knew she wanted to leave, but still told them. But why?
She didn't have time to think about the reason. She felt a hand gripping her hair, pulling her to stand, then another slap across the cheek. She looked up at her mother, the one who had slapped her.
"Planning to run!? Are you crazy!? You want to run away to cavort with demons?"
Her mother's face was twisted, as if she couldn't believe what Elara was trying to do.
"You are protected under the cover of the almighty, and you want to go out there and lose your soul. Is there something wrong with you?"
Her mother dragged her by her hair, placing her in front of the cross. She was dazed as she stood there looking at it. She wasn't thinking about worshipping some weird god; she was wondering how she could leave.
Even though she knew it was useless, her brain scrambled for something, anything that could keep her from whatever plan these people had.
She stared at the cross, the upward spiral wrapping around it. She had looked at it many times, but it never seemed as familiar to her as it does now. She didn't know if it was her panicked brain or if she wanted to find something else to focus on; she just thought it looked familiar.
While she was thinking, they were praying. Praying for her soul, her mind and everything else in between. She felt her mother's death grip on her hair loosen as she prayed.
She didn't act immediately.
From her peripheral vision, she noticed the gap between the two parents. If she could run between that gap and get to the door, she might be able to leave the house.
She felt her mother's grip loosening more and more until it finally let go. Maybe they thought she wouldn't run, since she had been staring at the cross. Her mother's grip loosened, but she didn't move yet. It wasn't until she clasped her hands that Elara flashed out.
She ran out of the room and down the stairs, reaching for the front door. Her chance at freedom. She was a few inches away until she felt someone grab her hand.
In her bid to leave, she forgot the one person who wasn't in the room, Joseph.
"Let me go," Elara struggled, staring at the door. "Let me go, Joseph!"
He refused to let go, holding on to her arm. There was no expression on his face. Elara looked at him, really looked at him, the boy she thought was her friend. The person she trusted with her secrets betrayed her, and she didn't see an ounce of remorse.
She couldn't help herself, she had to ask, "You did this, why did you do this? You said you wanted to leave. Why did you tell them?"
Elara couldn't stop the tears trailing down her cheeks. No one knew what they were planning but him. The only way others could know was because of him. She didn't want to accept the truth. Until now, until he held her arm, refusing to let her leave.
Just when she thought he wouldn't speak, he did.
"Do you remember the day you told me you didn't like me? That's when I told them. At first, I wanted you to be punished. But I thought about it. I don't need them to punish you; I can do it myself. As my wife, you obey the word of your husband. If you step out of line, I have every right within my husbandly duties to help you acknowledge your wrongs."
Her eyes went wide. She never thought the reason he told them was because of this. Because she didn't have romantic feelings for him, he put her life in danger. He played with her trust.
During their conversation, the parents had already descended the stairs.
"Send her back up," her father-in-law said.
Elara had lost all her ability to fight. She remembered the unease she felt leading up to the wedding and was sorry she didn't trust her instincts. But there is no medicine for regret; she could only live with her choices.
Joseph brought her back to the room, where she saw the rope lying on the bed. As he steered her toward the bed, she started struggling.
He threw her on the bed and slapped her. In her dazed state, he had already tied one of her hands to the bed. He got on top of her, tying the other hand to the other bedpost.
Elara thrashed and kicked her feet, both trying to free herself and to get him off her. She managed to kick him a few times. In the end, she was still tied to the bed.
He left the room, leaving her alone. She struggled against the ropes. Hearing whispered conversations happening in the house. She didn't know what her fate would be, only that it would not be pleasant.
Lying in bed, she began to feel tired. No longer high on adrenaline, her body couldn't help but feel weak.
She didn't know how long she stayed there until she heard the door open again. It was Joseph. She turned her head away when she saw him. While she waited for her punishment, she decided there was no reason for her to speak, let alone look at him.
Too bad he wouldn't let her have his way. He sat on the bed, looking at her, seemingly memorising everything about her. Had it been any other time, she might have been flattered, but not now.
"Elara, you're my wife now. As long as you don't run, I will treat you with respect. We can make our own little world, right here. Just don't leave me, okay?"
He stroked her hair and sighed.
"I'm sorry it's come to this."
He stood up, removing his clothes. Elara saw what he was doing and knew what was about to happen. She struggled against the rope while asking him not to do it. He paid her no heed.
He looked at her legs. The dress rode up to her thigh as she thrashed. In that split second, he seemed to make up his mind. He got on the bed, hovering over her.
He covered her mouth as she tried to scream. Her eyes pleaded, begging him not to do what he was about to do. But no amount of begging saved her from her fate.
This was the beginning of her marriage to the man she trusted.
Eleven years of abuse in various forms of abuse left Elara as a former shell of herself.
Her once lustrous brown hair became dry and yellow. Her oval shape became sunken.
During those years, she had two children. Both girls. Between caring for her children and the neglect and abuse from her husband, Elara's once sunny disposition became more withdrawn.
From time to time, she would still think about leaving. For her children, however, she stayed. Sometimes, she would dream, not the dreams she used to have when she was younger, but of herself.
She saw herself happy. Walking along streets that looked nothing like the village. She would lounge, doing absolutely nothing. She would get to see him. Such simple dreams brought her to tears when she woke up.
The day she died, that man, she no longer called him her husband. She dubbed him, that man, in her mind. That man tried to harm her daughter.
She was lucky to save her daughter, but she was unlucky to save herself.
As the pole on her head, she felt relieved and guilty. Relieved because she didn't have to face him again, but guilty because she didn't know how her children would survive without her.