Priceless: A Racetrack Love Story

Chapter One: Not Worth Half a Cent

"What have I've told you a thousand times?? What??"

Penny was frozen against the wall. She slid down and hugged her knees.

"Tell me Penny."

"I--I'm not..."

Penny's cheek went numb from the hard slap across her face.

"Stupid child. Follow me back the to cellar."

Penny staggered up, but was grabbed by her strait copper hair and pulled along the hall and down the stairs to "her room". She hated the cellar. She wished she could be out in the sunshine and run and jump and play. She could barely remember what that was like anymore. She barely remembered her age. She wasn't sure exactly how long she had lived in her Aunt Agatha's house, but it was since her parents died. She was almost ten then. And she knew she had been there more more than 5 years because the last time she was given a clue was at the last Thanksgiving at the household, in which she was told "Being here five years you should know your place!". That seemed like a long time ago, but she couldn't quite remember. She hated the cellar, but she hated even more being out of it. It meant she would do work and get lashings. Her wretched aunt always snapped at her no matter what she did. She remembered being loud and outgoing, willing to please. But now she felt quite the opposite. He aunt's house had done many horrid things to her. She remembered random things very vaguely, like sitting at her mother's vanity and trying on the makeup. She felt beautiful, even though she wasn't sure how to use some of it. She was youthful and nice to look at, but now she was afraid to even look in the mirror. Her aunt let her bathe once a week if no one else was in  the house. There were times she would make her slip her bath. It was the worst. She already felt hideous as it is with everyone reminding her. She didn't know why she was treated this way. Ever since she got influenza when she was thirteen her aunt started to abuse her. She survived, but nothing was the same. Aunt Agatha was very nice to her to begin with, but then she made it her life's purpose to make her life miserable. Penny rubbed her head as her aunt finally let go. She was thrown to the floor and kicked hard with the heel of her aunt's leather boot.

"Remember this if you can. Your name may be Penny, but you're not worth half a lousy cent."

And with that, she walked up the stairs and slammed to door to the dusty, hot room that was crowded with various junk. Penny sighed and grabbed her stringy, threadbare blanket. She huddled into a ball on the floor and slept. She didn't cry herself to sleep anymore. She didn't think she had any tears left.