The Fallen Queen (Winner of the Write Way Award 2013) #Wattys2015 #MyWattysChoice #Featured

Chapter 18: The Tentative

Let me know if you can read this chapter. There seems to be a problem with Wattpad and people can't see the chapters after Chapter 10.

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I gazed into space. The world I saw was different. It was not the same as the one they looked at or lived in. We were so different. Their life was all about eating food. It was so humanlike. So ungodly. I stared at them while they ate like pigs.

My mother hated me. Her eyes were filled with hatred. She could not control me and this infuriated her.

"We should send her to a foster home or something. If she doesn't leave, I will," she told my father.

What are youwaiting for? Call them! Come on! Perhaps I would end up in a better family. I wished I had different parents. Why was I so unlike my father? I only looked like her. I had her legs, her anger, her hate. I hated her.

"Can't you have a happier face?" the ogress asked me. "You make me sick. You are ruining my mood."

No, I could not fake it. I was not happy. I could not appear to be happy. Why didn't you ask me why I felt this way? Why didn't you ask me why I felt like I would rather die than live again? Why didn't you ask me why I didn't feel that there was a way out of this family? I wished you could care more. I wished people could care.

As punishment for being unable to smile, my mother ordered me to clean up the table, counter, and dishes by myself. Audrey was forbidden to help me. I did not care. I just turned my hatred towards the greasy pans and the disgusting smell of burned sausages.

It did not take me long. It only took twenty minutes to make all traces of the meal disappear. It only remained in their full stomachs with a mixture of other chewed substances.

My mother sat smoking in her rocking chair. Her face showed her usual cold feeling. My father was there too. They both had been looking at me in silence while I cleaned the kitchen.

I did not want to stick around. I did not want to look at them. I felt as if I was a scorned ghost so I rushed upstairs.

"You gonna pack your bags?" asked my mother with a sarcastic tone when she saw I was on my way to my room.

I did not reply. I just grabbed my shoes and my coat before I told her I was going to the library. I had to tell her where I was going because that was a rule. A mother had to know where her "things" were. Not telling her would just make my life worse. I do not know how it could be any worse, but she would probably find a way. Some way humiliating, hurtful. My heart was already broken; she would also break my soul.

I walked to the library with a rapid and steady pace. It was raining outside. My hair was dripping wet. The raindrops ran down my cheeks and the front of my head. Some even reached my lips and entered in my mouth.

I heard the sound of thunder and there was lightning. I wished one bolt would hit me and kill me. I looked at the trees, their branches moving angrily with the wind. If the lightning did not hit me, it could at least hit a tree so that a heavy branch would fall on me.

I did not want to kill myself. I just wanted to die.

I finally arrived at the library. It was closed. The sky refused to give me its protection, God did not want to kill me, and the library did not care that there was a war going on at home. The Universe did not care what I was feeling. It was only me. I needed to see Ana. I needed to confide in someone. I needed her support.

I retraced my steps back to our so-called haunted house, still wondering if faith would make itself heard and I would suddenly die.

Again, nothing happened.