Meet EllA

Ella runs away from a painful past and is seen in the present trying to overcome the obstacle of poverty.

The little girl sat on her mother's made bed. She looked on at her mother before her. Her bare feet swung while she smiled. The room had only a dim light. The blanket she sat on appeared visibly worn and used. She wore a hand me down dingy blue dress that at one time was light blue.

            She stared at her mother, in her mind a picture of pure perfection. Her mother looked right out of a fairy tale with bright blue eyes and blond hair all down her back. A brown dress hung off her in a not so flattering way. Her mother is skinny, they all are, her family struggles to eat and pay bills. She didn't mind though she had her family and that's all that mattered.

            She loved her mother and her sister, but not her father. She hated the way her father treated her mother. They often fought all day long. She physically ached to see her mother crying after her father beat her. She never understood how he could do such things. He's so mean to her too, but not to her big sister. She had to do all the chores, but she did them without complaint.

            She sat there on the bed watching her mother put make up on.

            "Mom, you are so pretty." She told her.

            Her mother smiled at her from the mirror. "Not as pretty as you, dear," her mother complimented her back.

            "I wish I looked like you." She meant every word. She didn't resemble her mother, father, or sister. They all shared the blond haired blue eyed trait. She had been born a brunette with light grey eyes people often mistook for blue until they got a close up.

            She heard a grunt coming from the doorway. Her father stood there in dirty jeans and a holy t-shirt. His bright blond hair fell on his chin. He obviously hadn't shaved in months. He's a drunk which meant he couldn't hold down a single job.

            She shivered staring at him. "Too bad you look like that f****t," he screamed at her.

            "Robert," her mother cautioned.

            What had he meant, the little girl wondered. Her father approached her crossing the faded wood floor. "Dad," she called him.

            "Stop calling me that, you aren't my child. Your mother's a w***e that's where you came from."

            No, he had to be lying. The little girl ran from the room with tears in her eyes. She ran into the hall across the dented rusty walls. She went into the room she shared with her big sister. The bare room and floor stood empty with two mattresses with only sheets as covers.

            "Cinderella," she looked up to see her mother entering her room.

            Cinderella sat in the corner with her knees to her chest. "Is it true?"

            Her mother entered barefoot. She approached Cinderella and knelt down as far as her pregnant belly would allow. Cinderella would be getting a new sister soon.

            "I never wanted to tell you. I, Cinderella, adults make mistakes sometimes. I don't regret anything. I love you as much as I love your sister Samantha."

            "Dad," Cinderella asked.

            Her mother wrapped her arms around her and Cinderella sank into her warmth. "Dad will come around," her mother promised.

            The promise was one her mother couldn't keep. Things with her father progressed worse. He started to become violent with her as well as her mother. She covered the bruises easily enough so no one suspected. She started to lose pieces of herself every time he beat her.

            He abused her because of her mother's indiscretions. She is to blame because her mother refused to have her aborted. He hated her with everything, Cinderella knew. Her sisters are his crown jewel. He sang and told stores to them. They didn't have to clean up or cook dinner or make sure everything was perfect.

            Cinderella wanted to run away. She has a grocery bag in her closet full of clothes and a few nonperishable food items. She couldn't bear to leave her mother with her stepfather as she'd come to refer to him as. She was now twelve, she'd gotten a little taller and her breast had begun to grow. Her dark hair and grey eyes began to stand out more from her families traits.

            She had been asleep on her mattress. She slept in her clothes because the sheet couldn't hide her from the cold air in the night. She could hear her mother and Robert arguing. She could hear him yelling profanities. She could hear items shattering and her mother's screams and tears. She knew that ninety percent of the time they fought about her.

            She turned over to spot her big sister Samantha looking at her with accusing eyes. Samantha is exactly a mini me version of her parents except she's two years older than Cinderella. In her arms lied her sleepy eyes two year old sister, Robin. Cinderella loved them both even though Samantha despised her and soon enough her baby sister would too. She isn't allowed to speak with them at all according to Robert.

            Suddenly the door to their room burst open. The light peered halfway in the room illuminating Cinderella's corner of the room. Robert stumbled inside cursing about. He grabbed Cinderella to her feet by her hair. She wore a simple oversized dingy white shirt with holy jeans and holy socks.

            Her mother dropped to her knees. "Please, I'm begging you."

            Cinderella stared at her mother trying to understand. Silver flashed in front of her eyes. She looked at her stepfather a silver gun in his hand aimed at her. She looked to her mother for help and she only lowered my head. Her mother is going to let her be killed in front of her sisters. Samantha closed her eyes attempted to cover Robins.

            Cinderella's mind froze and then she heard the click of the gun. Startled her step-father pulled the trigger a few more times. He pulled out the chamber, no bullets.

            "I'll be back," he told her. "You're going to be out of my life for good."

            He walked out. Cinderella wanted her mother to comfort her instead she followed him. He would be back Cinderella knew. She grabbed her bag from the close t and slipped on her talking shoes. She ran downstairs as fast as she could.

            "Dad, Cinderella's leaving," she heard her sister Samantha shout.

            There was no time to waste. She twisted the doorknob and ran. She never looked back. They would never find her in the night she'd known where to go and when. Though surviving on the run would prove to be much harder than her twelve year old mind thought.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter One: Storm Clouds

 

            I'd woken up to the sound of the buzzer on my watch. I yawned and rolled off my makeshift bed of broken down boxes and old sheets. I could see the sun's rays peering through the painted glass. I surrounded myself with dust and insects, not of my choice, we are looking to survive. I found this closed factory two years ago when the other place I had went under construction. I lived here with, birds, rats, and spiders. They seemed to leave me alone most days.

            I stood up fully clothed. I'd worn my huge all brown outfit to bed tonight along with my socks and shoes. I scanned the dusty room for my school books. I found the five of them on the steel table. I retrieved them and set towards the door. I closed the wood boarded door. Then I went to walk down the street with the rising sun staring down my back.

            People everywhere pretended not to see me. They know I'm dirt poor so they do their best to avoid me. I'm perfectly fine with the idea. I like to be left alone to fend for myself. When people begin poking in I'm sure they'd return me home. I can't go back there. I won't go back. I've been on the run for so long.

            I arrived to the department store in fifteen minutes. The parking lot only had a few cars. I'm positive they belonged to the overnight workers. I walked inside and went off to the right to the restrooms from the registers. I always went to the family restroom. I took off my top brown shirt revealing a black unflattering one underneath. Then I took off my brown pants to reveal washed out jeans with un made holes in the knees.

            Fro the first time I looked at myself in the mirror. My brown hair looked like a dog. My grey eyes are red and puffy. I didn't look appealing in any sense of the word I grabbed my brown shirt and soap from the dispenser and scrubbed my underarms. I would hang it out to dry at the factory. I repeated the action with my pants except I only searched for obvious filthy spots.

            I retrieved a small soap bar and tooth paste from my pocket. They were travel sizes so I had to make them last. I placed the bar under the faucet and let it get wet before I washed up only as little as possible. I wrapped the soap back up in the small plastic I had it in before. Then I used my fingers to brush my teeth. I needed a toothbrush, but without a job I could only pan handle and sometimes I only got enough for dinner.

            I went my hair and let it roll down. I grabbed my things and a plastic bag from the store and hurried out. By the time I arrived back at the factory my hair had dried completely. I hung my clothes on the dusty windowsill I tried to wipe with my hands. Then I knew I had to get to school.

            I liked school; I hated the teens occupying it. They harassed me endlessly. I cried so many times. I knew every time I came that they'd be mean. The only reason I show up is to hopefully get a scholarship to a college. I work very hard on school work and at the moment I am earning a perfect four point grade.

            I started my walk down the street ignoring the looks from drivers. I vrossed through an alley by the park filled with drug dealers and others like me. I walked fast through there. I arrived to the school a few minutes later. It's only two blocks from the park.

            As I approached the students saw me instantly. They figured it is their job to tell me things I already know. I hear them in their fancy clothes calling me unoriginal nameds. "Hey poor girl" or "you need a bath" or "you stink." And then there's my favorite pretending to smelly my "stink" as I passed them in the hall. They did it now I could see. I held my book sto my chest and walked to homeroom.

            Once I found room two fourteen I went straight back to my seat. For the record, I know I don't stink. I just look like I do.

            "Ella smella," I hear a jock say. He's Martin, school quarter back, completely unattractive. I kept my head down. The class laughed.

            "That's enough, Mr. Randall." Our teacher Mr. Carson announced.

            Mr. Carson never lets anyone bully me. He tries to protect me a lot. I think he feels bad for me because we share the similar traits of brown hair and grey eyes. He once approached me telling me he could help me so did other teachers. I told them if they pushed I'd leave and I'm a good student to have.

            The bell rings and class is in session. Several times throughout class things are thrown at me and I'm called names. I don't complain not once. I keep my eyes trained on Mr. Carson's instruction. The same with my other classes happen. I'm with different students, but I deal with the same crap. I'm relieved for lunch. The best time of the day. No one knows how lucky they are to have free lunch. The lunch ladies feel sorry for me they hand me an extra fruit and drink that I can take home. I love them for it.

            When lunch is over our class and a few others get to take a ride over to the university via buses. This is your senior year so we get to check out. I'm located at the back of the line. I listen to girls buzz about college guys and guys buzz about college girls.

            Once on the buses I'm seated alone. A guy actually preferred sitting with three people than next to me. I didn't care, more room for me. I sat quietly watching the other cars on the road. I heard more conversations of couples swearing they'd stay together at college. The boys were more focused on fraternities and parties. They were all truly clueless as to the true way out to a better life. College is my way to free myself from the bonds of my family.

            The ride is a quick one. One after another a line of five buses pile on the curb. We're let out in a single file line and I find myself at the back again. I don't mind the days beautiful. A middle aged woman in a business suit begins speaking only as an introduction. We are going to be broken into groups and assigned with college student who'll tour with us. The teachers randomly break us a part. Unfortunately I'm groups with jock Martin and his Cheerleader girlfriend, Chelsea. We are with a few other students all who hate me.

            The woman motions to a young man off to the right who comes to stand before us. I believe my heart stops when I see him. He has blond hair with normal brown streaks. His ocean blue eyes sparkles from the sun. He's wearing a white polo shirt and khakis. He barely pays any attention to us.. He's looking off to the right. A long legged blond smiled at him. She's pale with beautiful green eyes and a mega watt smile dentists would love.

            When the woman's done, he opens his mouth to speak. "Hi, I'm Morgan, I'm your guide, follow me."

            I barely grasped his words. He spoke softly as if only my ears could hear him. He winked at the blond and then he started off. We followed him to the entrance and main office. Next he took us to the dorms where Jock asked a ton of useless questions. Then we were off to look at the huge classrooms. Afterward we were led into the heart of the campus, a huge field surrounded by buildings. And finally to the campus store where several kids were buying things.

            I had no money. I didn't feel sorry for myself. I waited peacefully and quietly by the entrance as everyone checked out. We met up with the other students so its mega busy inside. People purchased everything from apparel attire to utensils because they feature the school's name or mascot. I couldn't blame them, if I had the cash I probably would've bought useless things too. Finally, one of the teachers told everyone to wrap it up and get in line. I found myself first in line.