The Real Cinderella - S. G. Ricketts (english reading book .TXT) 📗

only fourteen. But, the war demanded soldiers and Thomas was as tall as Father. They left just as the snows melted. Every night, we would sit at the outskirts of the womenfolk, waiting to see our family come home. Liza and I waited, endured their stares and their whispers. By harvest, men began trickling back into town, shells of what they had been. We waited through the cold of winter, though very few came back then. Like the other women, we prayed we’d get even that hollow shell of a man back. All through spring, we waited, taking turns praying for even the smallest bit of information. It was around then that my faith in the King and Queen began to falter. The Prince, at least, I’d seen. Liza remained faithful, though, and that gave me some hope. At least, it did until mid-summer.

Near mid-summer’s eve we got our much prayed for news: they were dead. A young man who had been back for almost a week saw us waiting and suddenly remembered. Even now, the thought burns that Father and Thomas could have been forgotten. Father had fought bravely, the man said, but wasn’t strong enough in his old age to stand against the onslaught. Thomas as still green and, terrified as he was, had stood his place where older men had run. He lasted only slightly longer.

Like that, we were alone. We were two girls left with memories of people long forgotten by the rest of the world. There was no doubt in my mind that we were cursed. I developed a deep hatred for everyone who held power, silently and passively acting out. After all, everything that had happened to us was because of them in some way. Stephen had died because of their brutality. Natalie had died because of their lust. Claire had vanished because of the Prince knows what, but it was because of them. Mama had given up because they took everything from her. Father and Thomas had died for a cause they knew nothing about. I couldn’t do anything directly, and my daily wrapping reminded me that I could barely do the things I was. But I refused to let their deaths go forgotten. One overseer would find his dogs loose. Another would break out with poison oak mysteriously. Another would crack a tooth on a misplaced stone in his stew. They were all little things, but it evened the balance slightly. To them, my family had been little things, inconveniences that had needed removing. Often, my thoughts bubbled out during their rounds and I earned myself more than enough lashes. Only my hatred kept me strong. Unbenownst to me, Liza was paying the full price in my stead. Every lashing called for just a little more, a little more physical pleasure than I was willing to give or that they were willing to try for. I was a fool... I thought I’d beaten them. I’d just broken the only person I had left.
I saw the bruises as she wrapped herself but Liza wasn’t one to make a fuss. Now that I know what they were from, I wish I could thank her. I owe her more than just my life. But, I can’t. I can’t thank her. I can’t beg her forgiveness. I can’t even offer her my strength to lean on or try to take her place. My sister... My sister gave up everything for me so I wouldn’t be forgotten like the rest of my family. She sold herself to keep me free and alive. I suppose she found it a simple price to pay for my safety, but I’m still alone. I still have lost my everything. She was my last tie to the world, and now I will never get her back.
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Publication Date: 10-12-2011

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