No Happily Ever After

Desperately Seeking Rescue

Chapter 9

It boggled the mind of Ella Cinder to think of how folks considered her foster mother, Thelma Dark, to be some sort of hero. Not only was Thelma a horrible, money grubbing, shrew, her twin biological daughters, Brittany and Lexi were ugly psychopaths.

And that pretty much summed up Ella's life.

It was unclear to Ella exactly how long Thelma Dark had been taking in foster children. By sneaking glances at the Dark family photo albums, Ella had determined that Mr. Dark had stopped appearing in the pictures when the twins were around ten. She suspected he may be dead. Or maybe he'd known his wife and daughters were terrible people, and he'd just run away. Or maybe they hadn't been terrible until he ran away. Whatever the case, she suspected they'd started "taking in strays," as they termed it, after he was no longer around.

Cash cows. That's how Mrs. Dark referred to the stream of charges that moved in and out of her home.

Ella was one of the few who lasted more than a couple months. She was a "lifer." Only a little over a year remained until her eighteenth birthday and she'd been with the Dark's for three years. Because she was quiet, docile and compliant, the Dark's allowed her to stay and expected she'd finish her under age years there.

She really didn't know why she never ratted her caretakers out to the authorities. The veritable slave labor enforced to earn her keep. Her accommodations were shabby at best. She slept in a tiny room off the kitchen that was barely bigger than a pantry. She slept on a small cot with nothing but a thread bare sheet to warm her, which rested on a cold stone floor. Fighting the layer of soot that always migrated in from the kitchen's huge fireplace was a never ending battle. They kept her there to rise early to do chores and prepare breakfast for the Dark's without rousing them from their comfortable warm beds. But when social workers came to call, Thelma claimed that Ella slept in one of the many extra bedrooms upstairs.

The amount of household chores they piled on her was insurmountable and often interfered with her ability to keep up with school work. And she could forget about after school activities or a social life. As a result, she often made failing grades. Though Ella was quite beautiful with her delicate features, long blond hair, sparkling blue eyes, and slender shape, she was often perceived as a pretty face and nothing more. "That Ella is so pretty and nice," her classmates would whisper. "But she's a bimbo." They assumed her stupid, because if she ever passed a class, it was just barely.

And any time the Dark's sensed any sort of defiance on Ella's part, that's when she was beaten. Or starved. Or tormented in one way or another. So she'd learned long ago to always stay in line.

She supposed she never told because she feared nobody would believe her. Other foster kids never stayed long, and Ella never attempted to befriend them. Most of the kids sent to stay in the Dark home were already broken or damaged in some way, and they didn't want to strike up any friendships. The rare few that Ella meant who did make nice, she diligently ignored for their own safety. She felt that if she made friends with any of the other foster kids, that they would be in greater danger. She simply left them all alone, because as soon as they'd begin to realize how awful the Dark's could be, Thelma sent them packing before they had a chance to complain. And Ella was left behind with no one who could corroborate any tale she contemplated revealing.

Honestly, she wished somebody in Faraway would just notice.

After all, Ella was a fairly popular girl at school. Despite the fact that she never attended dances, social events, or invited friends over... Despite the fact people didn't perceive her as too academically bright... They liked her. So it always amazed her that nobody ever noticed the bruises. The gaunt cheeks, or dark circles under her eyes. The shadows of cinders accumulated in her clothes and hair. She didn't want to have to cry out for help. She just wanted to be rescued. Maybe by an observant teacher. Or a stalwart police officer. Or, in her most sad and lonely imaginings, it was a handsome prince who came to her aid.