“Miss Elizabeth? Your mother is waiting for you in the dining room, and wishes that you will put on your birthday robe before coming down for breakfast.” The maid hesitated at the doorway. “Happy birthday, Miss Elizabeth,” she murmured before closing the door.
Elizabeth smiled. SEVEN! She was seven years old today. She had waited a long time to be seven. She hurriedly put on the new robe, passing her small hand over the velvet several times. It was brand new, and she would never wear it again. She would enjoy the velvet’s texture while she could.
She skipped down the hallway, clattered down the staircase, and finally entered the dining room.
“There you are, Elizabeth. What took you so long? No matter. Happy birthday, darling,” her mother said. “Your father already left, but he told me to tell you that he loves you very much.”
Elizabeth sat down at the table, all thoughts of breakfast forgotten when she saw Amanda bring out a pile of presents. “From your family, Miss,” Amanda said as she placed them in front of her.
Elizabeth bounced up and down in her seat. “Mummy, can I open them now? Please? Pretty please?”
“Oh, all right, then, Elizabeth, but please don’t bother me at the moment,” her mother replied dismissively from behind the paper.
Elizabeth tore into the presents, exclaiming at the toys, clothes, and other trinkets that her various family members had sent. One in particular fascinated her.
“Mummy, I know you said not to bother you, and I won’t again, but could I go outside and play with this?” Elizabeth asked, holding up the bubble-maker that her Aunt Laura and her Uncle Charles had sent her.
“Go ahead, just don’t get your robe dirty,” her mother said absentmindedly.
Elizabeth rushed outside and pulled the bubble-maker out of the box. She pushed the ‘on’ button, and squealed in delight as bubbles came out of the machine.
“Flower, lady, dog, house, shirt, kitty, spoon,” Elizabeth cried as she popped the bubbles. She chased one shaped like a cloud, but it kept floating just out of her reach.
Suddenly, she fell to the ground. Something had tripped her. She got up, carefully brushing off her robe. There was a stain- Mummy will be mad, she thought.
Elizabeth looked for the cloud bubble. It was floating over by the porch. She ran towards it, a little more carefully this time. Only a big hand reached out and popped it first.
“Hey, mister, that was my bubble. Why’d you pop it?” Elizabeth asked, indignant.
“I’m sorry, little girl. Say, what’s your name?”
“Elizabeth. I’m seven now,” she said proudly.
“Elizabeth is a very pretty name. Tell me, Elizabeth, do you live here?” he asked.
“Yes. With Mummy and Daddy and Jonathan and Isaac and Emily and Amanda. And John comes to visit sometimes. He taught me how to read and write two years ago. He says maybe I can learn cursive this year!” she said happily.
“Say, would you like to go on an adventure with me?” he asked, holding out his hand.
“Okay! Can we go see the unicorns? Daddy brings home pictures of them sometimes. He says they like girls better than boys. Or maybe we can visit the merpeople? John’s taught me a little bit of Mermish,” she said, slipping her hand into his. His hand enveloped hers.
They walked around the side of the house towards his car. “Tell you what. We can go visit my Kneazle. They’re very smart. Maybe he can tell us where to find a unicorn.”
“Okay,” Elizabeth said, sitting comfortably down in the back seat of the car. She wasn’t surprised when the man pulled out his wand - when Daddy drove his car, he used his wand too.
She was, however, surprised when he shot a spell at her. Ropes covered her body, making it impossible for her to move. “Hey! That’s not nice,” she cried. “Let me go! I want Amanda!”
And she began to scream. A long, drawn-out, high-pitched scream. Or what would have been a long, high-pitched scream if the man hadn’t made a piece of fabric appear in her mouth.
“The first thing you need to know,” he said as he got in the car, “is that you are not Elizabeth anymore. You are Anna. Got it?” Elizabeth nodded. “Good. And my name is Sir. Names are forbidden, Anna. Always remember that. Names are forbidden.”
The man talked all the way to his house. Elizabeth was confused. She didn’t like this adventure. She was supposed to pretend her name was Anna. She was supposed to pretend she had a different birthday. She was supposed to forget about Mommy and Daddy and Jonathan and Isaac and Emily and Amanda and John. She was supposed to forget that today is her birthday, supposed to pretend she never got her presents, never got her bubble-maker, never got her new clothes.
The man told her she wouldn’t have maids anymore. The man said that SHE would be a maid. But how could she cook and clean and do all the things that Isaac and Emily and Amanda did? She couldn’t drive. She couldn’t cook. She couldn’t carry in the heavy dishes. She didn’t know how to make the beds or clean the kitchen or wash the clothes. She couldn’t be a maid.
But she was supposed to be.
Elizabeth started to cry. She didn’t want to be Anna. She wanted to go back home and be Elizabeth again.
She didn’t like this adventure.
The bad man brought her to his house and carried her up the stairs. He locked the door, then removed the ropes and the fabric.
“No one can hear you scream here,” he said quietly.
And he started to hit her like Mommy did when that Elizabeth girl broke her china plate that was her great-great-great-grandmothers’ only Mommy stopped hitting fast and said sorry and gave the Elizabeth girl a kiss and the man didn’t stop and just kept hitting and hitting and he was hurting her now and she wanted him to stop, please stop, stop the meanness, she won’t do it again, please stop, don’t do that, she promises she won’t be bad again…
The bad man started punching Anna’s stomach and she curled up and brought her chin to her knees but that didn’t stop him he just kept hitting and hitting and hitting…
And the bad man hurt Anna for hours and he kept saying it was for her own good, that she had to learn not to be naughty, that she shouldn’t ever be bad or he would hit her longer, harder, more than he was this time.
And when the sun started to set and the man couldn’t find a place on her that wasn’t bruised or bloody, he stood up and kissed her on the cheek and said, “Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
His whiskers tickled Anna but she wouldn’t tell him that. She nodded her head, ate the piece of bread that he said was her dinner, and fell asleep.
Elizabeth woke up with her entire body screaming at her. She started to cry. She had never hurt like this before. But she remembered where she was. She remembered that she wasn’t Elizabeth anymore.
Anna kept crying until Sir came into the room. He looked cranky. Anna tried to stop crying but her body hurt so badly, she couldn’t think of anything else.
“Oh, stop snivelling,” Sir said as he pointed his wand at her and made her bruises go away. “What’s your name?”
“E- Anna.”
Sir hit her. “You almost said the other name, Anna, your old name. Names are forbidden. What’s your name?”
“Anna! My name is Anna. Please don’t hit me!” she cried.
“Better. When’s your birthday?”
Sir quizzed her for a long time, asking questions, hitting her when she even started to answer wrong. By the time Sir handed her a glass of water and a piece of bread, tears were streaming down her cheeks once more.
After she had eaten her breakfast, she stared at her birthday robe. Even though there was a nightgown in the closet, there were no other robes for her to wear. She slipped it on again, enjoying the feel of velvet against her aching hands.
She went to the sitting room, where Sir was waiting for her. He hit her in greeting, asking “What took so long?” Anna said nothing. He handed her a broom. “Sweep the kitchen floor, Anna,” he commanded.
While Anna struggling with a broom much too big for her seven-year-old body in the kitchen, Sir went upstairs and turned on the radio.
“-parents of seven-year-old Elizabeth Berkley, Amelia and Thomas Berkley, are making another desperate plea for their daughter. Though Amelia was crying too much to be understood, Thomas made a moving plea, promising the kidnapper whatever he wishes if only they get their daughter back, alive and unharmed. Even Elizabeth’s younger brother, Jonathan, kept asking for her. On behalf of the Berkley family, we would like to join the chorus of people asking for Elizabeth’s safe return.” Sir snorted and snapped off the radio.
The Little Girl In White by hermione210
Chapter Notes: Thanks as always to my lovely beta, Katie, and the lovely Kristy, who gave me the idea.