The Runaway

Chapter 1

SMACK! A sickening sound echoes in the room. My cheeks throb. She has hit me again. My daily abuse from her has paid me a sickening visit. I feel hot tears stream down my throbbing cheeks. "Why are you crying?!" She screams. Then takes my arm in her hand and drags me to the kitchen. Her grip tightens as I resist to move. "This house is a mess! Clean this kitchen, NOW!" She stuffs multiple supplies in my numb arms.

"I won't clean." I mutter. Her glare on me gets stronger. She shoots up her hand and yanks my dirty, matted brown hair, making my head fly forward.

"You won't clean? You won't clean! You will do whatever I say! You hear me, you disgusting little beast?!" She screams once more. Then let's go of my hair. "Talking back doesn't help you, kitten. This house better be spotless when I get back from dress shopping with the girls." She growls in my ear. Shivers spring through my spine. Oh how I hate her. She spins on her heal and walks to the stairs. "Girls, get down here!" 3 preppy girls trudge down the squeaky, worn down stairs.

"Is Hazel put to work?" Annie's high pitched voice rings.

"Of course. Her kind is meant to be put to work." Stepmother chuckles. The triplets' squeaky laughing follows. "Come now."

I continue to scrub the dirty rusted counter until I hear the front door slam. I let the yellow ripped wash cloth drop from my hand. Then wipe my wet fingers on my dirty worn down maid dress. This was just too much.

I had been living with my stepmother and the triplets since I was 5. My mother had died when I was 5. My father got remarried to my stepmother shortly after my mother's death. A year later my father died of rat poison. I still think to this day that my stepmother did it. My father was a rich man. He was quite wealthy and treated me like a queen, gave me all his attention. But my stepmother hated me for the lack of attention she had from my father, she also wanted his wealth. My father worked in the town; a tax collector. Most towns people hated tax collectors. But the towns people loved me father. He was the sweetest man. They were all devastated when they heard of his death. Stepmother worked as a tailor. She quit the job after getting my father's money and wealth. She made me this maid dress. The triplets weren't quite fond of me either. The triplets hated my father also. I was almost cursed with another baby of my stepmother's. She had gotten pregnant with my father's baby shortly after their marriage but had a miscarriage. Father was devastated about the miscarriage; he loved children. But Stepmother was more than happy about it. Stepmother always acted so sweet to me around my father but when he was out of sight I was put to work and abused. After he died, i was put to even more work, even more abusing, and I even had to steal some bread from the towns bakery once. If I hadn't, she would've made me miss my supper.

My heart beats a mile a minute. I spot the rusty brown car bouncing on the rough grown. Stepmother and the triplets were back. How long had they been gone? Had it been hours? Had I lost track of time? The car stops outside the house and they jump out of the car. I scurry and grab my wash cloth and begin to scrub a different area of the kitchen. The door slams open and my stepmother comes in, followed by the three girls. I hear stepmother become furious without even looking. Her shoes clack on the floor as she stomps to me.

My hair is yanked and my head flies forward. "I thought I told you to clean! Do you not understand English?! You disgusting beast! Did you not notice time?! It's almost dark! Hours of cleaning have been wasted!" She lets go of my hair and grabs my chin hard, yanking my face up. "Guess what, kitten? No supper for you, you little beast." My stomach hurts and growls from just the sound of food. She lets out a sickening chuckle. "Such a shame too. Sounds like your hungry. Too bad. Get cleaning. Don't stop, don't rest, don't do anything but clean until this kitchen is spotless." This kitchen was a mess. No way I could get done before morning. "Get to work. I'm going to town to get food." She slams the front door behind her. The triplets stand by the stairs, giggling and whispering.

"You heard Mother! Get to work!" Mary says sharply. They run up the stairs. I continue to scrub till my hands are raw and my nails have grime under them.

I lie in my broken bed. My room was in the attic. It was merely 2 a.m. Stepmother had came home at 11 and told me to stop cleaning. She had bags and bags of food. My mouth had been flooding with saliva just from the sight. But I had a plan. Oh the plan. A plan that would change my life. A plan that would help me. A clever plan. Stepmother would wake up in the morning to find me not here and she would be furious. But what could she do? The triplets would gape and gaze. At exactly 3 a.m I will pack a bag with clothes and most food stepmother had bought from town. She would be more furious about the food gone. Then I will sneak out from the front door and run to the train tracks far from the house. Close to town though. Of course I wouldn't go to town, that'd be the first place she would decide to look for me if she even did look for me. She most likely wouldn't but u didn't want to go to town yet. I had told stepmother a while ago I was going to leave one day. Not today but one day. I told her when I would leave I would never come back. She hit me for my words. She was most likely expecting me to leave. I would be gone. No hurt. No pain. No problem. Oh what a plan. What a pleasant plan. What a pleasant surprise for stepmother and the triplets.

I was going to run away and never ever come back.