Tired of Waiting

Chapter 1

I watched the water drop into the bucket as I wrung out my rag. I had been doing my stepmother's bidding since my father left to the market. He had been gone ten years.

I wiped a stray piece of hair that had wiggled its way out of my pony-tail out of my face and wiped the sweat from my brow. I vigorously scrubbed the dirt from the ground, trying to get done as fast as I could so I could eat supper and sink into my not-so-sink-into-able-bed.

"It's at times like this you wish fairy godmothers were real," I mumbled to myself.

I finished my mopping and went to the dining room. My stepmother, Sylvia, and my older stepsister, Nadine, had already finished, and, as usual, left all of the mess for me to clean even though I made it. There was only a cup of soup and a bread crust. This was a gourmet meal! Yeah right, gourmet. I got out a bowl and spoon from the cupboard and sat down at the wooden table that was in desperate need of repair. There was only about a cup left. Well, food was food.

I climbed the two story set of stairs up to my bedchamber. I passed Nadine's room and heard a loud snore emit through the crack under the door. It took all I had not to laugh out loud, upon remembering a conversation Nadine had shared with a neighbor girl, talking of how "graceful" she was at ALL times. I walked into my bedroom, and lit the candle I always kept on my nightstand. I changed into a nightgown and plopped onto my bed and pulled out my journal I always kept under my mattress. I opened up to the next page and began to write:

April 18

I worked for twelve hours today. The hours seem to keep racking up with this woman. I have decided to seriously think of leaving, without anyone else. I plan to gather my belongings in the potato sack we keep in the pantry. Sylvia and Nadine would never miss it, or rather, me. I only wish that I was present to see Stepmother come home to a filthy house and the only clean clothes in her possession being her nightgown. The expression on her face I would pay thirty silvers for. If I left I would take most of the money we have, considering most of it should be my rightful own. Would it be considered stealing if it was already yours, but in the possession of another? Not according to me it wouldn't. Well I should be getting my sleep, for who knows what stepmother might have for me to work on tomorrow,

I woke up at dawn, as usual, and sat on the windowsill watching the sunrise over the peak of the mountain. A beautiful Swift bird flew up and perched on the window next to me. It gave a little chirp and I stroked its back. It jumped into the sky and looked back as if trying to beckon me to fly with it. I wished with all my heart and soul that I could fly over the mountains and be free, like the swift. I couldn't be free, not yet anyways. The bird flew up and over the mountains towards the rising sun.

Sylvia would be waking up in an hour or so and I had to get started on the day. The Swift was the reassurance I needed to make my decision. I was finally going to leave this wretched place. And it was my eighteenth birthday.