Traumatized by her mothers death, a youngcancer survivor Ella Marsh stopped talking. Not only is Ella selectively mute, but she refuses to enter a bathroom due to an unknown irrational fear. While temporarily making due with a camping toilet and kiddie pool in the backyard, Ella’s new family struggles to understand her odd behavior. When Ella’s adoptive mother, Heather, tries to enroll her in school, they put their foot down. A portable toilet did not count as being properly toilet trained. With the help of a child psychologist, they try to put the pieces of Ella’s past together. What exactly happened the night of her mothers death? What Happened to Ella Marsh?

 

“Ella, would you come in here, I’ve got the bath running.” a female voice called out from the bathroom in a flat monotone pitch.

Wake up! Please wake up! Not this dream again, please!

As if on cue, dream Ella lifted her head out of the bucket before wiping the vomit from the corner of her chin with the back of her hand. It was another rough night thanks to the chemotherapy. Her legs shook as she slowly stood, trying to resist the urge to vomit from the effort. She grasped the bedpost to steady herself and surveyed the damage. Regurgitated chicken covered her nightgown, as well as the bed covers. This had almost become a nightly ritual.

“The bath is ready.”

“Coming!” Ella yelled back in response.

Don’t go in there! Wake up!

Ella took one shaky step, then another, holding onto every surface she could along the way for support. She stopped for a moment, taking in her frail form in the mirror. Her eyes were sunken. Her skin gave off a ghostly white glow. Her cheekbones protruded from her face. And of course, her bald head. She slid her hand over the top, missing the black curls that had been there two months before.

She turned her attention once again to the light coming from the end of the hall. Ella’s heart hammered as she inched forward. In her mind she wanted to stop and turn back.

Her feet had other plans. They propelled her body forward despite the owners objection. She stood in the doorway to the bathroom as the feeling of dread washed over her, more intense with every passing second. She felt a hand tighten around her arm and she let out a yell of fright.