Saving My Cinderella[COMPLETED]

Chapter 1- Going Somewhere?

Hello! I just need to put in a quick note from the author. There will be mentions of and instances of rape and abuse in this story. Please read at your own discretion

Brittney

"Guess whose birthday is in a week," John says wickedly. He sits at the scratched up wooden table that has been there since the day I moved in here. 

"I can't wait," Cole says, smirking at me.

I'm turning eighteen next week and they have been waiting for this for a long time. The day they can go further than just bruise me, the day they can take advantage of me. Apparently, rape is not as serious when it is done to an eighteen-year-old--instead of a child. In their minds. I shudder just thinking about it.

"We'll have so much fun, won't we Brittney?" Dustin asks from his spot on the table.

"I get the first go," John says, smirking at me as he looks me up and down.

For the last six years of my life, I've been waiting on them hand and feet. They've hurt me, both physically and mentally. They'd been close to it but they never finished. Next Sunday they will finish what they've started. The only reason they haven't yet is because John wanted to wait until I was eighteen. John is my stepdad.  Dustin and Cole are his twins. My mother died when I was twelve, leaving me alone with them. The moment she died I was put to work. All I know is I've got to get out of here. I have to. I'll get out or die trying.

"Hey fatty, get over here and pour me some damn coffee," John says.

With shaky hands I poured John's coffee, trying not to get too close to him, he'd probably hit me.

Whack!

Too close.

They all snicker, "The bitch deserves it," Cole says. 

My hand flies up to my stinging face. I quickly retreat into the kitchen, hiding the tears, if they see it will only be worse.

I get my schoolwork and the laundry done before dinner. That's the only time I'm allowed to leave the house, school.

That's it! School! I can escape during school!

I decide I'll make a break for it during first period, so I have longer to disappear.

When I go to bed, I make sure to turn on my night light and close my door good, when I hear the click of a lock from the outside I go to sleep.

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Beep. Beep. Beep.

The sound I normally hate to hear brings a smile on my face as I turn my alarm off. Today's the day, I'm finally escaping this hell hole. I run and pack as many clothes as I can fit into my worn backpack. I managed to steal a couple hundred dollars from John while he was passed out drunk. Then again, it's not really stealing when I've been their slave for the last six years. When I see the bus, I run out the door fully intending to never see walk back into the run-down house again.

Why are you even going to school? Shouldn't you just leave now and get a head start?

Voice inside my head, you have a good point.

I decide to hide behind the bushes where the bus won't see me and wait for it to pull away. This wouldn't be the first time I've missed the bus. Some days, my bruises have been so prominent that John has called in and said I was sick. When it does finally start to move, I take one last look at the house I slaved in and take off running. There is no doubt in my mind I will never come back here.

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Using the money I took, I managed to get a bus to the next state, South Dakota. Thankfully, the ride was easy and there was a nice old man that gave me a piece of pizza from the box he had. It wasn't until I stepped off the last step and felt the concrete meet my Converse that are two sizes to small that I realized it: I'm free.

Now I need a job. Taking a quick inventory of my skills, I realize my life with a tyrant has really stunted what I bring to the table as an employee. I can cook, clean, and dance. Though I doubt the dancing will do much good. Unless I become a stripper... But I feel like that's a little counter intuitive.

I see a sign in a restaurant window that says they are hiring. It looks like a really fancy one, but I can cook just about anything. I walk into the restaurant and immediately feel out of place. Everyone here is dressed so elegantly and I'm wearing an old sundress.

Walking quickly to the manager's office, after a nice employee points me in the right direction, I knock and step inside.

"Hello, I saw that you had an opening, and I'd really love to apply," I say. The manager is a woman a couple of years older than me. She has pretty brown hair with striking hazel eyes.

"Yes, we do have an opening in the kitchen. Do you have a resume?" She questions politely.

Shoot! I forgot all about that. My plan wasn't very detailed from the start.

"Um, no I don't. But I'm a great chef and I can prove it to you." I tell her confidently.

"Follow me..." As she trails off, I realize I haven't told her my name yet.

"Brittney, Brittney Smith."

"My name's Diana," she says getting up and heading towards what I presume is the kitchen. When we arrive, she turns to me.

"Make me whatever you would like. Try to wow me. "

I get to work quickly. When I'm finished, I set the plate in front of her. She looks at me impressed by how nice it looks. When she takes a bite, her eyes widen.

"This is amazing for someone who has no professional experience. You show a lot of potential" She exclaims when she stops chewing.

"Thank you, so do I get the job?" I ask hopefully.

"Definitely, just give me your address and phone number."

"Oh, um, about that... I just got here so I don't really have a permanent address. But I can give you my phone number." I say, biting my lip.

"That'll be alright, just give me your number and address when you get one." She says after a bit.

"Thank you so much for this opportunity," I say gratefully, shaking her hand.

"Be here at six a.m. sharp tomorrow. The pay will be fifteen dollars an hour." My eyes widen at how much she is paying me. I've never even been paid to work.

"Thank you again," I say walking out of the room gleefully.

I have a job, now I need an apartment.

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It's been a week since I ran away. Happy birthday to me, I guess. I have a nice one-bedroom apartment that is a bit of a fixer-upper. It isn't on the best side of town, but it will do.

My job is amazing, and everyone is really welcoming. I've learned to cook so many new things. I hop on the bus to go home and take a seat towards the front. I feel someone watching me, but don't turn to look. I've always been paranoid since I was young about being watched. I think John had cameras in my room, but I never found them. When the bus gets to my stop, I still can't seem to shake the feeling. Looking around I see two hooded figures get off the bus behind me. Regardless of the fact that it isn't that abnormal for people to wear their hoods up, I set off towards home at a brisk pace, they follow slowly. As soon I turn the corner I crash into a hard chest. I look up and see the lifeless brown eyes I've come to hate.

"Hello whore, going somewhere?"

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Hey there! Thanks for reading my book, I think y'all will like it (at least I hope). Please hit the little star at the bottom!
Also, please note that I wrote this when I was about 14 or so. It's not a bad book though, especially for a 14-year-old. Just keep it in mind with the errors and swiftness of it. Thanks,
Kalechip

P.S. 18-year-old me here. I'm starting to rewrite this for fun. Hopefully it will be a lot more enjoyable :)