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when you came to my room in the middle of the
night," I snapped. I no longer felt any compassion for
him. He had to bear responsibility for what he was doing, and one way or another, I was determined to
leave the house today.
"What? You had another dream? You poor
child. What you are going through." He shook his
head, pressing his lips together like a concerned
grandfather. "Oh well,, once we get something
substantial in your stomach--"
"I want my wheelchair. I'm going downstairs to
the phone,"
"Wheelchair? Oh no, Annie, not today. You
need at least one day's complete rest after what you've
gone through. Ill bring your breakfast to you in bed
today. Won't that be nice?"
"I WANT MY WHEELCHAIR!" I demanded
in the strongest voice I had ever turned on him. He
stared at me a moment and then started to walk away
as if he didn't hear me.
"TONY!"
He didn't turn back, and this time when he left
my room, he closed the door.
"YOU CAN'T KEEP ME LIKE A
PRISONER!" I got myself into a sitting position and
slowly brought my legs over the side of the bed. I did
feel weak and tired, but my determination was strong.
I would leave the room, even if I had to crawl out. I had to get help, get to Rye. I was sure he would help
me.
I started to lower my feet toward the floor when
Tony came bursting back in again, carrying my breakfast tray.
