CHAPTER ONE.
An overweight teenager sits at the dining table, quietly eating her dinner alone whilst the mother eats hers in front of the television. Depressed, all she can do is chew and swallow the food mechanically. Chewing while not tasting. To her everything is sawdust and cardboard. No betraying emotions flicker across her face.
Then, the father comes downstairs. His hair is still wet from the shower and he wears his old, ratty robe. He heads straight to the stove where the food lay, making the daughter's throat contract as she awaits the outburst that she knew too well that would follow.
He grabs a plate from the cupboard then turns to the stovetop. "You fat little bitch." The man swore, angrily shoveling food onto his plate. "You are such a fucking pig." He mutters underneath his breath, loud enough for the girl, but not for the mother to hear.
"You stupid little worthless shit. How dare you take all those potatoes? Aren't you fat enough?" he growls, as the girl enters the kitchen, finished with the food she didn't eat. Regretting she even had the need to eat, she wishes the floor to open and swallow her whole.
She chokes back the tears, and schools her face into an expressionless mask. It is easier to let him think what he wants to think; would he ever listen to the truth? Sure, she could mention that there wasn't that much potatoes to begin with, and what with both her and her mother taking some, should there be such an abundance left? And why are potatoes so fricking important?
Holding back the words that she longs to say, she stands at the sink, washing the accumulated dinner dishes. She has to bite her lip from telling him off, but she did not want him to hit her today. Not today, couldn't she have just one day of peace? On her 16th birthday, didn't she deserve to just be left alone?
He slides up next to her his plate steaming with food, and he mutters, "I work all day, you play, what gives you the right to take so much food? Want, want, want. You take whatever you want." She edges away slightly; a fine tremor quivers her chin.
"We don't have the money to feed a fat cow like you." The girl flinches as the stepfather raises a fist, as if to strike her. She trembles, as she fears for her life, the glint in her stepfather's eye was murderous. She realizes that he was only taking his anger out on her, finding no one else fitting of the punishment he felt he was due to give. "Take whatever Leonie's desire is, that's what you think. The rules don't apply to Queen Leonie. Do they? You selfish, insolent, disobedient, piggish little shit." He draws in oxygen in a way a smoker draws in the cancerous cloud of smoke.
"You'll get yours, daughter Catlionie. You'll pay." He states with a sneer full of contempt. Shaking with rage, he stalks away.
Leonie stands in front of the counter beside the stove. Trembling, she tries not to make a sound. As his footsteps disappear, she crumples onto the counter, head falling into protective hands. Her long honey-brown hair curtains her face as she slides to the floor to rest on her bottom. Her fingertips muffle her sobs, and she draws her knees up to her chest.
A sharp sting strikes her amber eyes, and two teardrops threaten to fall onto pale, rounded cheeks. Leonie's vision blurs, and she wipes at her eyes impatiently. I hate being so weak, so absolutely powerless to such a man, Leonie thought, I will make him see, I will punish him He is nothing more than a corpse, I will see to that. Leonie swears to herself with a viciousness that startles her into gasping.
About a minute after her stepfather stalked away, Leonie hears stirrings of conversation in the next room. Hearing her name, she quietly slips over the doorway, and waits for what the man shall say.
"She ate all the potatoes." Said the man to his wife.
Leonie's mood lifts. Suddenly, she wanted to burst out laughing at the insane way her stepfather found fried mashed potatoes so important. It's just... Potatoes. But, what lay beneath the surface? Why is he so angry with her? She stills her breathing to hear what they are saying, realizing the conversation continues.
"Beau," Leonie's mother starts, "there weren't all that much to begin with. They shrank when they stuck to the pan. We each took equal amounts." Leonie was shocked; her mother had never stood up for her before. Realizing this, Beau leveled a glare at his wife's graying head, so furious; Leonie suspected her mother's hair might burst into flames.
Beau's mouth pinched in anger as he tried to control his emotions. Putting on a false air of calm, he began to eat his oh-so-precious potatoes. "Besides," Leonie's mother continues, unaware of what her husband is feeling. "Catlionie did not even want the potatoes. She thought you should have them all. It was I who encouraged her to take them."
She shouldn't have said that. Leonie thought to herself.
"Laurie!" Beau bellows and flings himself in an upright position. Chicken, peas, and the coveted potatoes fly through the air, landing unceremoniously on the carpeted floor.
Mother doesn't know when to stop. Leonie continues her train of thought, cat-like eyes wide with fear. She knows she should leave, before she is seen, but she is drawn to the scene like the moth to the flame. She is riveted to the spot.
Beau turns from his fallen food, disgusted and angry. Looking anywhere but at his pathetic wife's attempts to clean the food from the floor, his eyes lift, and settle on the girl hiding in the shadows on the landing above the stairs.
He starts to step towards her, and Catlionie's eyes widen, her body shaking with fear. Realizing his intent, Leonie scrambles up the stairs and dashes into the kitchen.
An overweight teenager sits at the dining table, quietly eating her dinner alone whilst the mother eats hers in front of the television. Depressed, all she can do is chew and swallow the food mechanically. Chewing while not tasting. To her everything is sawdust and cardboard. No betraying emotions flicker across her face.
Then, the father comes downstairs. His hair is still wet from the shower and he wears his old, ratty robe. He heads straight to the stove where the food lay, making the daughter's throat contract as she awaits the outburst that she knew too well that would follow.
He grabs a plate from the cupboard then turns to the stovetop. "You fat little bitch." The man swore, angrily shoveling food onto his plate. "You are such a fucking pig." He mutters underneath his breath, loud enough for the girl, but not for the mother to hear.
"You stupid little worthless shit. How dare you take all those potatoes? Aren't you fat enough?" he growls, as the girl enters the kitchen, finished with the food she didn't eat. Regretting she even had the need to eat, she wishes the floor to open and swallow her whole.
She chokes back the tears, and schools her face into an expressionless mask. It is easier to let him think what he wants to think; would he ever listen to the truth? Sure, she could mention that there wasn't that much potatoes to begin with, and what with both her and her mother taking some, should there be such an abundance left? And why are potatoes so fricking important?
Holding back the words that she longs to say, she stands at the sink, washing the accumulated dinner dishes. She has to bite her lip from telling him off, but she did not want him to hit her today. Not today, couldn't she have just one day of peace? On her 16th birthday, didn't she deserve to just be left alone?
He slides up next to her his plate steaming with food, and he mutters, "I work all day, you play, what gives you the right to take so much food? Want, want, want. You take whatever you want." She edges away slightly; a fine tremor quivers her chin.
"We don't have the money to feed a fat cow like you." The girl flinches as the stepfather raises a fist, as if to strike her. She trembles, as she fears for her life, the glint in her stepfather's eye was murderous. She realizes that he was only taking his anger out on her, finding no one else fitting of the punishment he felt he was due to give. "Take whatever Leonie's desire is, that's what you think. The rules don't apply to Queen Leonie. Do they? You selfish, insolent, disobedient, piggish little shit." He draws in oxygen in a way a smoker draws in the cancerous cloud of smoke.
"You'll get yours, daughter Catlionie. You'll pay." He states with a sneer full of contempt. Shaking with rage, he stalks away.
Leonie stands in front of the counter beside the stove. Trembling, she tries not to make a sound. As his footsteps disappear, she crumples onto the counter, head falling into protective hands. Her long honey-brown hair curtains her face as she slides to the floor to rest on her bottom. Her fingertips muffle her sobs, and she draws her knees up to her chest.
A sharp sting strikes her amber eyes, and two teardrops threaten to fall onto pale, rounded cheeks. Leonie's vision blurs, and she wipes at her eyes impatiently. I hate being so weak, so absolutely powerless to such a man, Leonie thought, I will make him see, I will punish him He is nothing more than a corpse, I will see to that. Leonie swears to herself with a viciousness that startles her into gasping.
About a minute after her stepfather stalked away, Leonie hears stirrings of conversation in the next room. Hearing her name, she quietly slips over the doorway, and waits for what the man shall say.
"She ate all the potatoes." Said the man to his wife.
Leonie's mood lifts. Suddenly, she wanted to burst out laughing at the insane way her stepfather found fried mashed potatoes so important. It's just... Potatoes. But, what lay beneath the surface? Why is he so angry with her? She stills her breathing to hear what they are saying, realizing the conversation continues.
"Beau," Leonie's mother starts, "there weren't all that much to begin with. They shrank when they stuck to the pan. We each took equal amounts." Leonie was shocked; her mother had never stood up for her before. Realizing this, Beau leveled a glare at his wife's graying head, so furious; Leonie suspected her mother's hair might burst into flames.
Beau's mouth pinched in anger as he tried to control his emotions. Putting on a false air of calm, he began to eat his oh-so-precious potatoes. "Besides," Leonie's mother continues, unaware of what her husband is feeling. "Catlionie did not even want the potatoes. She thought you should have them all. It was I who encouraged her to take them."
She shouldn't have said that. Leonie thought to herself.
"Laurie!" Beau bellows and flings himself in an upright position. Chicken, peas, and the coveted potatoes fly through the air, landing unceremoniously on the carpeted floor.
Mother doesn't know when to stop. Leonie continues her train of thought, cat-like eyes wide with fear. She knows she should leave, before she is seen, but she is drawn to the scene like the moth to the flame. She is riveted to the spot.
Beau turns from his fallen food, disgusted and angry. Looking anywhere but at his pathetic wife's attempts to clean the food from the floor, his eyes lift, and settle on the girl hiding in the shadows on the landing above the stairs.
He starts to step towards her, and Catlionie's eyes widen, her body shaking with fear. Realizing his intent, Leonie scrambles up the stairs and dashes into the kitchen.