Us Against the World || Simon Brown x Reader

Chapter 1

Hello readers! Just saying this may not be good cause this be my first x reader so enjoy.

Y/N POV

As I ran, I felt the hot tears running down my face. I was cold, scared and alone, escaping the only home I ever knew through the thick forest. The cold wind and chilly air bit at my uncovered skin as I ran in the one direction I knew was somewhat more safe than the others, away. Everywhere else was fenced off to protect the property from being trespassed on by thieves. It felt like a prison. 

My name is y/n y/l/n and I'm 14. I have h/l h/c and e/c eyes that seemed to sparkle, well that's what father said anyway. I live, well lived with my wicked stepmother and horrible stepsister in my father's house just around the bend from the market. I was currently running away from them because I had had enough of being a slave in my own house. 

When I was 5, my mother died of illness, so I barely remember her, nor did I have any siblings. My father said that I looked a lot like her though, so I have a basis on what she looked like if I ever wanted to daydream about her, which I did occasionally. My father was unmarried until I was 8 and found a new wife. She was tall and slender, with thin lips and dark, narrow eyes that perceived hatred. She also brought along her daughter, who was three years older than me but the spitting image of her mother.

When my father was around, my stepmother and stepsister always treated fairly better than they did when he wasn't. When he was away for work, which was most of the time, they would treat me like a slave, doing what they said or being beaten with whatever was handy at the time. They would dress me up in dirty clothes and make me call them"Mistress" or "My Lady". Most often, my stepmother would hit me with her fancy walking stick that she used purely as a prop. My stepsister would take to personal, physical pain, using me as her self defence practice dummy. She would punch and kick me as hard as possible, smiling as she did so.

My father knew nothing of this because they threatened to hurt me even more if he found out. So that's how I lived the first three years with my new stepfamily, cowering in fear and rejection, with only myself for company.

The next 6 years have turned out to be the worst years of my life. When I was 11, my father fell ill and was confined to bed. He didn't work and slept most of the day. I was the only one who truly wanted to care for him. My stepmother and stepsister wouldn't make much contact with father unless he requested to see them, which was twice a week when he would talk to them.

In a couple of months, he died. I grieved his death properly, but my stepfamily partied the night away, inviting strange people to the house. My theory is that my stepmother poisoned my father to kill him, to inherit all the money that he received for working so hard after mother died. 

Then, she did the worst thing imaginable. She made me a permanent slave. What did I do in my previous life and this life to deserve such a fate, I have no idea. I was forced to clean, cook, shop in the market, help around wherever possible and generally do everything.  If I was too slow or disobeyed in general, then I got beaten. I enjoyed that (note my sarcasm).

Now, for years tolerating this, I had had enough. I had decided to leave in the middle of the night when both my stepmother and stepsister were asleep. I had tried to leave no trace of my escape, leaving everything as it should be, being as quiet as possible. I left no note, took my most valued possession, the charm bracelet my mother gave me. 

It had small marble, metal and purple, plastic beads and had an intricate purple butterfly charm. My mother gave it to me on my 4th birthday and I never took it off, only to sleep. When she gave it to me, she said, "This bracelet used to belong to the Queen of the Fairies, Queen Tatiana. She gave it to me to give to you so that you can have good luck." (Refer to the picture at the top) 

Ever since then, I believed in fairies. Now I don't, because I have had horrible luck since mother died. I kind of stopped believing that my life would get any better after father remarried. My stepmother and stepsister made sure of that.

Then, as I started to lose hope that I would come out of the forest, the trees started to part and the treeline came into view. I ran faster and I suddenly exited the forest. I looked around and saw that I was far away from the market and walking onto gravel rather than the forest floor of soft dirt, dry leaves and small sprouts of grass that tickled my dirty bare feet.

In front of me, a large house resembling my own came into view, washed by the faint, white light of the moon. It was big and had dark bricks, making the house look older than it already was and much more unfriendly than it should've. Completely exhausted, I knocked on the door and heard someone approach the door. When I heard a female voice ask, "Who is it?" I replied, "It's me." 

Then I felt my legs give way from under me and the world went darker than the night sky. The last thing I remember is seeing was the distressed face of a young woman trying to catch me before I faceplanted on the porch.