A tortured soul

This is the story of Cinderella before her life changes. This is the story before the real story. Cinderella doesn't have the best of childhoods.

 

            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 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 once 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.