Chapter 6: Isla

Isla was born in December 1995 in Northern Ireland. Tall and blond haired. Her father, Mr. Nightingale descended from Irish royalty. He owned a large estate and a ranch. Her mother, Pat was lowborn, from Edinburgh and fell in love with her dad, defying societal standards. The union produced only one daughter, Isla. They lived in a mansion in the countryside which overlooked the hills of Leitrim. Blue remembered hills. Isla remembered how the hills could be seen from afar spreading accross miles, and covered in Heather and Bracken as well as horses she rode in the range

When her parents got divorced, they split ways and she relocated to America with her mother.

“Isla, Isla” Zara screamed at the top of her voice. She was panicky. But Isla wouldn’t move. She just lay there like a dead animal. Her skin was pale. Her eyes shut. Her mouth in a small surprised ‘O’

“What must have happened. Gosh! I need to call an ambulance” she muttered. Then Zara saw the pills, her pills in a white plastic bottle. They were of varying colors; red, white, yellow, blue.

“Oh my!” she said. She took my dolls”. Guilt spread over her.

She dialed the ambulance. She was rushed to the hospital.

She woke up healthier and smiley.

“O! my dear Isla. What happened?”. Zara asked, overwhelmed.

“Where I’m I?” she tried to stand up, a confused look on her face but as she stared at the IV drip and white cloth she was in, she struggled to regain memory.

“Isla what happened to you. I found you laying unconscious in the living room. I had to call the ambulance. I found pills in your hand. You need to tell me what’s going on?” she exclaimed.

“Yes! your dolls. They are so precious. Now I see why you take it often. I love them so much. It really does relieve one's stress. Can I have more” she said in a plea.

“I forbid you from Isla, No!” she was angry now. “What’s wrong?” she asked with deep concern.

She looked away towards the vital monitor and started crying.

“It’s my dad. I miss him so much. My mum’s too busy touring the country in the name of being a global change maker. It’s so lonely for me. I miss them both. I feel like I have no family”.

Her crying, the way the tears erupted moved Zara to console her, in a tight sisterly hug. She patted her head.

“So sorry, Isla. But taking those dolls won’t make you feel better. It might work for a bit, then post-clarity hits and it plunges you farther back in depression. That’s why I stopped and would flush it all in the toilet soon”

“No! Zara don’t”

“Nah nah”, Zara shook her head.

“I’m not gone, let it destroy you like it did me”.

Isla looks annoyed. Her childish frown is a little too comic.

“The doctor said you would be discharged once he injects you, ready to go home”?

“Hell yeah”

They both laughed. Her phone buzzed and she saw a message from Nat.

“Hey. Where are you? “Wanna see tonight?”

She was filled with intrigue, briefly reminiscing previous moments, a finger put in between her teeth, smiling. But she knew she had to stop whatever thing was going on before it flares into something else—Love. She did not want to develop feelings for a Sex tyrant. But gosh! his loins. Her smile widened. Summoning courage, she left his message on read. And, looked sympathetically at Isla.