Chapter 1
I wake up like always, my cousin, Chris, the second oldest out of the four children my uncle has, dragging a metal cup across the bars making a loud noise you could never ignore. When my parents died, seven years ago, I went to live with my aunt and two uncles. They never actually explain how or why they died no matter how much I ask.
Since there are no spare bedrooms, I have to live in the dungeon, it's unlocked of course.
My cousins have never been particularly nice to me. Neither have me uncles. But my aunt, Vanessa, hasn't ever been mean. She is beautiful. In fact, I'd say she is the most beautiful woman I've ever seen if she didn't look so unhappy all the time. It's always the worst when I see her around the king, and she always looks at me with sympathy clearly placed in her eyes.
"Come on," Chris says, disgusted, and still banging the cup on the bars. "I know you aren't asleep. I've pretty much woken up the whole dungeon," he keeps banging the cup."Don't make me get my father."
"I'm up, I'm up!" I say, annoyed.
"Good," he says satisfied, "Father has the days chores for you in the Throne Room. Oh, and you better make my meal the best it has ever been or your dead meat."
"Okay, okay. Just let me get ready."
"You better be fast because I'm starving, and the longer I wait on my meal, the less lenient I'll be."
I get my shaggy clothes on in thirty seconds and quickly go to the Throne Room for my day's chores. Actually, my clothes aren't to bad, but compared to every one else's clothes, it's pretty bad.
"Their over there," says Martin, my uncle.
I grab my list and head to the kitchen.
I make a meal in thirty minutes and take Martin's and Chris's first.
"Why didn't you bring my food out first?" asks Cherry, my youngest cousin.
"Because Chris threatened me so I thought it was wise to bring his first," is what I want to say but instead I stick with the one I say every day. "Because, I only have two arms and two plates is all I can carry."
When I set the plate in front of Chris he whispers so that only I can hear, "you were smart to give me mine first."
I then take Cherry's and Martha's, the oldest, plate next.
"But what about mine?" the second youngest, Brad, wines.
"Because you didn't complain earlier," is what I want to say. But instead I say, "It's coming."
Then I grab Brad's and Chad's, my other uncle, and take them to the dinning room. I set the plates down and I get Vanessa's plate.
I then set it in front of her and she mutters, "Thank you," so no one can hear it.
"You may go Trix, and do the next thing on the list. Then come back and do the dishes." Martin dismisses me.
"Yes, sir," I mutter.
"What was that?"
"Yes, sir," I say, much louder, and stock off.
Martin's family is the only family that can eat three meals a day. He only allows the people to eat dinner and they have to go and get themselves water. But they have to have permission. I'm only aloud one meal, too, but I have to make it myself and I have to tell Martin I'm eating.
The next thing on the list is to fix all the beds. I go to the nearest bedroom which just happens to be Chris's.
One day a week I have to clean the sheets and today's that day. So I pull off all the dirty sheets and put them in the basket I brought with me.
