Chapter 3 - Ilma

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There she was again, doing chores for her bitch of a stepmother, the two of them hated each other. The most vile woman in all existence, in Ilma's opinion. She could swear she was some sort of spawn of Satan. She just needed to prove it to her love blinded mother. Even her little sister Iska hated her. 

She had been assigned to sweep the leaves in the back garden. The random heavy winds had blown the leaves off the branches. Ilma sighed, she always got too carried away. She turned her head over her shoulder, to check if anyone was watching. She raised her hands and quickly spun them. The leaves were consumed in a mini tornado and she briskly moved forward, keeping her body blocking the leaves. She dropped her hands slowly, the leaves gently resting in an upward heap. She picked up the pitchfork and shimmied it into the pile.

"Take that you stupid bitch," she muttered as it went in, imagining it was her stepmother below it. She flicked her red hair out her face and made her way back to her house. She walked through the door and made her way into the kitchen. As she was walking in, her stepmother was coming in the other direction, to check on Ilma's progress.

"Get back out there and finish the job! You're not done yet!" She snapped at her, pointing at Ilma. If her finger had been a knife, she'd have stabbed Ilma. Ilma responded by giving her the sweetest of smiles.

"Go see for yourself," she purred, she then walked past her tutting stepmother, who'd briskly walked to the kitchen window, then let out a gasp of bewilderment.

"How the fuck? You were only out there for ten minutes!"

"I work fast," Ilma replied, strutting out of the kitchen. Iska, smirked at her as they passed on the stairway.

"You cheated," she whispered.

Ilma put her finger to her mouth and winked. Causing Iska to giggle, which turned into laughter.

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