Prologue

I lived in the basement of my stepmother’s house, that picture you see sitting on the stone block is my wonderful father. He no longer lives with us. My father always thought it would be great for me to have a new mother and sisters. My own mother had died at my birth, so I never knew what a mother was even like. My father married Stefanie, and along with her came my two step sister Flurentine and Floretta. At first things were great, everything was going along well. My father and I finally had a real family, I could tell he was very happy.

My father went off on a long journey to see if he could sell some of the handcrafted chairs he made. He told me he would be back in 2 weeks time, but he never returned. Once my step mother heard of his death she took all of her anger out on me. She told me it was my fault my father never came back, he didn’t want me anymore so he married her and dumped me on her. I knew better, of course, my father would never do that. My father loved me, I believed even more than Stefanie herself. It was no use to tell her this, I couldn’t or she would leave me on the streets. Stefanie forced me to live in the basement, telling me I should be thankful I’m even living in her household and that she could sell me as a sex slave any time she wanted.

I cooked, I cleaned, I repaired things, I kept the house looking fantastic at every moment. If I didn’t my stepmother would beat me, telling me it was the only way that would get it into my head that this was what I had to do in order to keep my lavish life with her and her daughters. I knew what she was making me do wasn’t right and  I also knew it wasn’t right that she beat me until my whole body was bloody and broken, but there was no where else for me to go.

After I made a meal I had to eat it outside while my step family ate in the warm comfort of their home, they didn’t allow me in. They told me I needed to learn some table manners before I could ever eat with them. I didn’t really mind being alone, their company wasn’t exactly wonderful, it was nothing like being with my father. The only bad thing was how cold it was outside, but I would bring candles with me to try and keep me warm while I ate.

My sisters always drove their car to school, I was told not to leave until the house was spotless, so I always missed the bus and had to walk.

One night after school Floretta brought this boy home with her. I was taking the trash to the curb when he smiled at me.

“I’m Cruz, I’ve seen you at school a few times. You don’t really talk much do you?” He introduced himself kindly and I wished I could answer him, I wished I could have a friend like this but I knew better. Someone could be watching, and if someone was watching I would be punished fiercely. I smiled back at him and tried to move around him but he grabbed my hand and shook it, looking deep into my widened eyes.

“What’s your name?” He asked, tilting his head slightly, his eyebrows furrowing. I knew I shouldn’t tell him, but he was so kind.

“I’m Estella, but listen I really shouldn’t-” He stopped me mid sentence, before I could explain to him that I couldn’t speak to him that I needed to get the rest of my chores done.

“That’s a really beautiful name, for a while I thought you didn’t even speak.” He laughed, a genuine hearty laugh. He was very cute, I suddenly realized.

“Th-thank you.” I stuttered, my eyes falling to my feet. “I have to go now though.” I whispered turning around towards the front door.

He pulled on my arm to turn me around and as soon as I turned he gently placed his lips on mine. I reached up and grabbed his arm to steady myself and kissed him back.

“That was so you don’t forget me Estella, I won’t forget you.” He whispered, letting me go inside.

Once I had gone inside my step sisters cornered me by the piano.

“We saw what you did.” Flurentine said, cracking her knuckles.

“You’re gonna pay for that bitch.” Floretta said, spitting at me.

“Please don’t, I-I didn’t mean to, he just wanted to know my name.” I said, cowering at the gleam in my step sister’s eyes. Even though Floretta was skinny, she could really do a lot of damage and I had personally witnessed it before. She had broken my collarbone when I had accidentally shrunken her favorite shirt in the wash.

“You take care of this Floretta, you’re better at it than I am. I’ll make sure mom isn’t around.” Florentine said, walking down the hall.
I had to escape before Floretta attacked, but it was too late her hand had already scratched me right across my nose.

“Floretta please!” I shrieked, trying to fight back. She jumped on me punching me repeatedly, pulling chunks of my hair out, she pounded my face into the floor and left me there blood dripping from my nose and mouth. My limbs were to weak to move, my brain told me not to get up or Floretta would pounce again. I laid there all night, sobbing softly into the floor, wondering where my father really was.