365 days until the incident
“Go away,” I said to my sisters pesky dog. “Come on, please just let me eat my lunch in peace.” I sighed. why, just why, can I never eat a thing in this house without having to sharing with this stupid dog. I set my lunch -a ham sandwich and some potato chips- on the kitchen counter and headed upstairs to my Dad’s study
I stood in the doorway of my Dad’s study, looking around the room; bookshelves lined the walls, and even more books were stacked on the floor. The only place there wasn’t books was my Dad’s desk, which stood in the middle of the room. There had been a time when his desk was touching a wall and was placed so he could see out the window. Now he had to many books he couldn’t even see the window anymore. He was sitting at his desk writing in his journal.
“Dad, Clover is driving me CRAZY!!!” I shouted.
Dad looked up from his journal and gave me a raised eyebrow look. turning back to his journal he said in his calm scholarly voice “We do not shout in this household young lady. And please treat Clover with kindness, your sister was not happy with leaving her behind and it would sadden her to know how much you seem to hold disdain for her beloved pet.”
“Her beloved pet,” I scoffed, “no one can actually like that dog”
“You know Ella, not everyone has the same opinion as you.” Dad said so mater-of-factly, that it made me want to scream.
“My name isn’t Ella, it’s Amelia!” I shouted as angrily as I could at him and stalked out of the room.
For as long as I could remember I had been called Ella, I had been called that name so much, I thought it was my real name. Then, when I started high school I found out the truth when my home room teacher asked whether I wanted to be called Ella or Amelia. I had told her that I wanted to be called Ella because it was my name, which turned out to be a huge mistake. Now I’m teased for not knowing my own name.
I don’t know how or when I got the nickname Ella, I had tried asking Mom and Dad but they wouldn't give me a real answer. And when I asked Lily, she would always say that she couldn’t tell me and that she was sorry. I had been sure for a while that they were just messing with me until I asked Dad for the millionth time and he looked me in the eyes and said, “if I tell you, you will never be able to live a normal life. I want you to endure the least amount of pain in life as possible. That is why no one is ever going to tell you how you got your nickname.” Dad’s words had stuck with me, I never asked about my nickname again. Dad’s words were always running through my head, I couldn’t stop thinking about them. I wanted to forget, I wanted to start being called Amelia and forget I had ever been called Ella. And I wanted to forget Dad's creepy words.