29 Days Of Grace

Prologue

Stuck-up rich nerd, leading a perfect life. That's what people thought who I was.
I was a rich nerd, and had the perfect parents, a huge house to live in, the loving siblings, that cute dog and got a everything at the snap of my fingers.

But that was not who I was. They didn't know me, nor did anybody tried to know me. They just judged me upon my appearance and the surroundings I grew up in.

Everybody thought that I had been daddy's little girl from day one and had gotten everything just by whining to my parents, flashing them sad puppy dog eyes.

But that wasn't who Grace Parker was. That wasn't me.

Everybody at my school just assumed what they wanted.
They didn't even remember how I had just materialised two years back and I hadn't been there whole my life.

They all were wrong, about each and everything.

Sure, my parents were rich, but I wasn't.
My parents were not even my real ones. They were my foster parents.

I had never gotten anything by just a flash of a pair of sad puppy dog eyes. Oh please, if you want to know about that, ask my supposedly 'Loving' sister, Rebecca. She's all about that.

And no. My siblings were not so loving.
Rebecca was straight out from Cinderella, you know, the evil stepsister?
Yeah, except she was my evil foster sister. And yeah, she was my age.

My elder foster brother, Matt, never paid any attention to me, so it's not like it matters anyways.

And Cecelia, my eleven year old foster sister was not all that good. If anything, she was just a miniature Rebecca.

Except yes, the part of the cute dog was correct. Trigger, a German shepherd, loved me to death, probably because I was the only one who remembered to feed him regularly and walk him daily.

I was bullied daily at school, by none other than Rebecca, my sister and head cheerleader herself and her minions.
Everybody else just thought that it was a way of Rebecca showing her love for me, you know the teasing sisters way.

Oh right, pushing me down the stairs and calling me names, putting me in trouble was her way of showing her love for me. So right.
Note the sarcasm.

While my parents?
I was my foster mother's personal maid.

My foster father was a sick man. He tried to touch me inappropriately every chance he got. But thankfully, it never went out of control.

I know you are probably wondering, why the hell doesn't she tell somebody this?

But you see, this is not that easy.

After all, who will you listen to Grace Parker, the poor orphan or Mr and Mrs Collins, reputated lawyers?

Thought so.