Love And Tales

Elena's POV

“Get away from my family!”

My heart raced as I stared down the barrel of the gun Alana held, ready to release the bullets if I dared to make a move.

“You took everything away from me,” she accused, biting her lower lip as tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Calm down, Alana, we can figure things out." Said Mike who was trying to reduce the tension in the yard.

“Violence isn't the only way, Alana, we are here for your father's burial.

“Can't we just respect the dead?” Raymond whispered, trying to reach her soft spot.

Alana shook her head slowly, a cold smile spreading across her face, totally unfazed by the presence of the cops and the guests capturing the distressing scene on their mobile phones.

“Drop your weapon and surrender now, or we will open fire,” the policemen warned sternly.

“First, you took Ralph from me, killed my mom, took my inheritance, and now my sanity.” her voice trembled as she spoke, and her eyes mirrored the pain she felt, but does that justify her act?

“What more do you have to take from me, Elena?” Alana sobbed uncontrollably, tears still racing down her cheeks as she ignored the cops' warning.

“You, come here!” her voice boomed, her facial expression devoid of any emotions.

“I said. "Come here!” Alana screamed, directing Raymond to stand in a certain position.

“Good. “Now take this," she said, tossing a gun towards Raymond.

“What's this for”? Asked Raymond, as he picked up the gun.

“It's for E-Elenaaa. It's either you kill her or I kill your mom, choose the best death” Alana replied as she let out a sinister laughter.

My eyes widened, my breath coming in short gasps, as I stared at her pointing the gun at me, ready to release the bullet if I dared make a move.

"Please, Alana, just take me with you; you don't have to make me do this, "For heaven’s sake, I can't kill my wife!” begged Raymond, as tears streamed down his cheeks.

Alana stared at us for a while and let out a loud sigh as she said, "All right, All right, I'll make things easier for you.

"I'll choose a lady for you”

“Hmmm And who would that be?” said Alana as she rolled her eye between my mother-in-law and me.

“Eeny, Meeny, Miny, Boom!"

“Of course you know I'll choose you, Elena,” Alana continued as she faced her gun in my direction.

"Now, kill her. If you don't do it, I'll do it," she said, cocking her gun. "You have until the count of 5,"

warned Alana as she began counting.

“One! Two!

Three! Four!

Five! ”

“Game over.Goodbye…Elena,” she whispered as she pulled the trigger.

I shut my eyes, ready to embrace the cold arms of death as the sound of the gun raced toward me.

Just then, I felt a hand grab my shoulder, tossing me to the side.

Immediately, the cops opened fire, their bullets penetrating Alana's body.

My eyes fluttered open as I stared at Raymond, a sad smile crossing his face as he dropped to the ground, blood drenching his body.

My face turned pale, and the sounds around me became muffled as I crawled to his writhing body. He had taken a bullet for me.

“Raymond… stay with me,” I begged, my lips trembling as I shook his body.

"Somebody, call an ambulance!” Please call an ambulance,” I pleaded as tears flowed uncontrollably down my cheek.

“Don't leave me; help is coming,” not now that our little one is on its way. I said this as I used his hands to feel my little pregnancy bump.

Raymond looked up, his weak eyes staring deep into mine.

“I… I love you, Elena,” he whispered, and slowly exhaled, his body going limp.

“Raymond, please stay with me,” I cried, cradling him in my arms and screaming.

“I love you, Elena,” he mumbled, his eyelids shutting as he was dragged away by some paramedic personnel.

My whole world shattered before me as I watched Raymond slip into unconsciousness.

Slowly, I could feel the environment spinning. Everything turned blurry for a while, as I traced my thoughts to when it all began.

---

“You thief!”

Alana screamed, her voice harsh. I looked up at her, my face wet with tears, my hands clutching the doll I had taken from her room.

I opened my mouth to protest, to tell her that I had no intention of taking it, that it was an accident. But the words were caught in my throat, and all I could do was stand there, frozen, as she continued to yell.

"I knew I couldn't trust you," she spat.

"I knew you were nothing but a common thief, a worthless orphan.

It's no wonder your mother died, giving birth to a useless thing like you. She couldn't bear the shame of bringing you into this world.”

The words cut deep, like a knife to my heart. My mother's death had always been a painful memory, and now having it used against me in such a cruel way was too much to bear.

I felt my knees go weak, and I sank to the ground, my whole body shaking with sobs.

Alana's mother watched me, her face twisted in a sneer.

"You'll never amount to anything," she said, her voice like ice.

"You're nothing but a burden, a mistake. Your mother should have known better than to bring you into this world."

I dragged myself into my room, dropping the doll on the floor.

“Pick it up. It's yours now. My daughter can't share things with a demon like you,” Alana's mother called out.

I picked up the doll and went into my room, looking out of the window.

My memories at the orphanage flickered in my mind. It was the only time I had rest.

******

With heavy steps, I approached the priest's office. My heart was pounding in my chest as I stood at the door, clutching the handle tightly.

The nun excused herself and left me alone with the priest and the good-looking man. I inhaled deeply, confusion written all over my face.

“Have a seat, my child,” the priest said, his gaze shifting to the piece of paper he was looking at.

I moved and sat beside the man. I couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. Should I be bothered by the cringey smile the man gave me? I didn't need to look at his face, I thought.

“This man here identifies as your father. What's your say?” the priest asked, smiling at me.

An awkward silence arose. What was he expecting me to say? I hadn't met him before. I just kept looking at him, a smile on my face.

"Before we begin the adoption process, I think it's important for you to have a chance to get to know each other," the priest said. He rose from his chair and walked out of the room, leaving the man and me alone together.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, the man turned my chair so that I was facing him directly. I could feel my heart beating fast in my chest, and my palms were sweating.

"What's your name, dear?" he asked in a gentle voice as if he could sense my fear.

"Elena," I said, my voice barely audible.

"Elena," he repeated, smiling at me. "That's a beautiful name."

I managed a small smile in return.

"My name is Edward Woods; your father," he said, his voice gentle and reassuring.

I could feel my heart racing, and I could barely breathe.

"You're my father?" I asked, my voice trembling.

"Yes, I am," he said softly. "I loved your mother very much." and guess what? You have her eyes." He reached out and gently touched my cheek, and I couldn't help but smile.

Even though the situation was strange and overwhelming, there was something about him that felt comforting. His words and his touch were so gentle, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of peace in his presence.

"She loved you so much from the day she found out she was pregnant with you. He said as he let out a soft smile.

“Mama might not be here with you, but she's always watching over you. You're a part of her, always. She will always be with you."

I sat there, silent and still, trying to make sense of what he was saying. I didn't know what to say, so I just listened.

"I have an idea," he said, his voice low and soothing. "Why don't we go back to my place for a cup of ice cream, and we can talk about all this?"

Just then, the priest came in, a smile on his face. "Am I interrupting something?" he asked, clearly amused.

"Not at all, Father," the man said, turning to face him. "I was just getting to know my daughter here."

"Has she agreed to come with you?" the priest asked, looking at me expectantly.

Immediately, I was unsure of what to say. On one hand, I was curious to know more about this man and his claim that I was his daughter. But on the other hand, I was wary of going with a stranger.

"I think I'd like to go," I said finally, feeling a flicker of excitement. I thought to myself, “This is the start of something new; perhaps he was the miracle I prayed for.”

The man nodded, and together we walked out of the orphanage and to his car.

Little did I know that I was leaving my home — the orphanage — for hell.