It had been a horrible day. Little Jennifer Honey had just lost her mother to cancer. Her mother had been thirty when she passed on, and Jennifer was only two. After the funeral, Magnus, her father, had taken a couple of weeks off to be with her, but sadly, he would have to go back to work. He was a doctor, and he needed someone to look after his little bumblebee, as he always called her. All of his relatives were gone, and the only one he could think of was his wife's stepsister, Agatha Trunchbull. She was principle of Crunchem Hall Elementary School, and was probably great with kids. Although, he had only met her a couple of times, he had no reason to doubt that she would be a good housekeeper as well as babysitter.

When Magnus told Jennifer about Aunt Trunchbull coming to stay with them, she looked like she was about to ball her eyes out, and Magnus had a time getting her to calm down. Jenny never told him why she had started crying, and he had always figured it was just because she missed her mother.

"Sweetheart, no one can replace your mother."

Jenny had thought about telling her father what kind of woman Aunt Trunchbull was, but knew deep down in her heart, that he wouldn't believe her. Her mother had told her horror stories of Trunchbull, about how she would beat her and lock her in the closet, and no one believed her when she told them. Sure enough, when Aunt Trunchbull came to live with them, she had pretended to be loving and understanding whenever her daddy was around, but the second he left, Trunchbull would abuse Jenny. Both physically and mentally. Her father would see the bruises on her, and Jenny would lie and say she and Auntie were playing and that she tripped and hurt herself but she was okay. He bought it.

After three more years, Jenny's father passed away when she was five. The cops had thought it to be suicide, but deep down Jenny knew the truth. Her father had always been a very happy man and wasn't the type to kill himself. Oh, she knew how he died. Yes, indeedy. But sadly, she had no proof. Aunt Trunchbull never told her that she had killed him, but she knew. The way Trunchbull acted when they had taken the body from the house. That sinister grin she gave her.

For years, Jennifer was plagued by nightmares, even after she had moved out and gotten her own cottage. Life had been wonderful before Aunt Trunchbull entered the picture. Jenny had no one to talk to, no one whom she could pour out her innermost thoughts. She didn't have the money for a psychiatrist. Even though Trunchbull was principal, and she had to see her on a day-to-day basis, she wasn't sorry that she took the job, for seeing all those happy and sweet kids brought her a lot of joy. Jennifer never lost her temper in all the years she'd been alive, even though she had been so angry with Trunchbull, and wanted nothing more than to give her what was coming to her, but she knew she couldn't and wouldn't be able to do it. Every day, since her father died, she had held out hope that one day, her life would get better, and that Trunchbull would leave and never be heard from again. Or that she would change. Sadly, that had yet to happen.

Jennifer would eat her meals in the school cafeteria, since Trunchbull would, purposely, pay her less than the other teachers. Of course, the other teachers were terrified of her as well, but Jennifer knew Trunchbull picked on her just because she was her niece. When she was a child, and lived alone with Trunchbull, she had to cook all the means, wash the dishes, mop and vacuum the floors, and if she didn't clean herself properly while bathing, Trunchbull would come in and hold her head under water for about a minute. Jenny only ate one meal a day, and that would be lunch. She could only afford to buy certain little things like cookies, tea, milk, sugar, and bread, and that would be about it. Outside there was a well where she could get some water so she could bathe. Of course, anything was better than living with Trunchbull. That house should have went to her, but Trunchbull had prevented that from happening. She took all of her father's money, everything. She wouldn't even let Jennifer take her favorite doll, or her pictures, only her clothes.

One day, when Jenny was seven-years-old, she had climbed up to put the dry dishes away, and found something, which she never noticed before. It was a funny looking box, and she opened it, and her eyes widened when she saw what was inside. Poison. What in the world would poison be doing in the house? Then she realized.

"What is taking you so long?"

Jenny turned, eyes wide, tears about to come out.

"Y-you poisoned him!"

"What?"

"You poisoned my father."

"Oh, really?"

Trunchbull walked up to Jenny, with that horrible grin on her face, showing her ugly yellow teeth.

"Prove it."

Jenny reached back into the cabinet, and pulled out the box of poison.

"You put this in his tea."

"He killed himself. He was a coward! That was probably there before I got here."

"That's a lie!"

Trunchbull grabbed Jenny's hand and squeezed it really hard, until it broke. Jenny cried out in pain. It was too much to bear.

"Oh, shut up! Be a man!"

With that, Trunchbull stormed out of the kitchen, leaving Jenny to collapse on the floor in agony, as tears poured down her cheeks. She became very dizzy and then passed out.

When she awoke, she had still been on the kitchen floor, and her wrist hurt like hell. Getting up, she walked over to the freezer, pulled out the ice tray, wrapped some ice into a cloth and then put it on her hand, cringing at the impact.

After living in pain for years, Jenny had finally got what she had wished for. Matilda Wormwood had come into her life, and it was life she was gift from God. The answer to all of her prayers. Matilda helped Jenny get her life back, and got rid of the Trunchbull for good. Jenny had gotten her house back, as well as gotten the money that rightfully belonged to her, and even adopted Matilda, whom she always loved like a daughter. Maybe someday she would meet a nice man. After all, she was now principle of Crunchem Hall, and the school was a lot more cheerful and happy then it had been in years. Nobody ever heard of what happened to Trunchbull, and nobody cared. Matilda, in a way, had avenged her father's death.

For the first time in years, Jenny had been at peace, and thanked every lucky star out there that a little girl named Matilda had come into her life.

END