Ok people here you go. I know many of you have probably forgotten who I am or what any of my stories are about, (or the select few of you who have been waiting for me to crawl out of the hole I've been hiding in, and are planning on stabing me with your pitchforks and other sharp pointy objects). Personally I don't blame you, but here's the deal: you may or not remember that I told you, my readers, that my family computer got possessed (broken) by a demon that had to be destroyed and that I wouldn't be able to work on my stories until then. Well ... the demon won (we never got it fixed) and the family computer became as useful as a giant paper-weight. Thankfully, (mostly thanks to my Mom) I got a laptop for graduation and will now be working on my stories again. (Let me tell you I got a good half dozen notebooks filled with ideas and I really need to vent).
I know I'm really out of practice writting. For the past few months I've been so focused on getting in all my grades and finals so I could graduate from high school (which I just barley made it. You rock God! Or whoever answered my prayers.) that I didn't have much spare time to spend on writing. This story is just a practice run to see in what areas I need to work on, and is an easy way to get them writting juices flowing again.
This story is a modern remake of the classic fairytale, Cinderella, with a few twists along the way. Just so that way its not an exact copy of Disney's. Yugi will be playing the main role and Atemu will be his prince that saves him from the life of servatude by his evil stepmother Zazuka (OC), his stepsisters: Anzu (personally I think she's ok, but she talks about friendship WAY too much, and I just needed someone who liked Atemu, so she was the ideal pick) and Vivian (needed someone who liked Yugi, and she will be for comic relief throughout the story). And before anyone asks, yes this story is going to have some MalexMale action on it, so if your not a fan than take a hike, cus you won't want to read this and I really don't want to read any reviews about you not liking homosexuality or anything else like that.
So I would be greatly indebted to anyone who had a spare minute and read it. Feel free to leave a review when your done. Flames are welcome (NOT LITERAL FLAMES PLEASE). And I am also in need of a beta reader, so if anyone is willing to volunteer, just say so in your review, or send me an email, and we'll talk. Also just ignore any spelling and grammer mistakes. Me and spelling/grammer don't get along.
And just because there is no real way anyone could fit a good summary into the tiny little discription box we are allowed to use, here is a better summery:
Yugi Muto, a teenage boy who never believed in the fairytales his mother use to tell him about before she died, is forced to become a servant in his own home by his evil stepmother and his stepsisters. He wasn't foolish to believe life changed from rags to riches just because of a wish. Still, he couldn't stop himself from wishing for his own "Happily ever after," when he meets Atemu, heir to the largest gaming companies in Domino. Yugi couldn't resist the attraction he had for the handsome crimson eyed man. Tough luck though when Prince Charming is actually there to seduce his stepsister and force her mother, Yugi's stepmother, into selling the game shop, for his father's company.
Atemu "Yami" Sennien may have been a rational man, a shark even in the board room, but that didn't mean he didn't believe in love at first sight. He wasn't sure he would ever meat "The One," though. Having grown up his entire life with everyone he met only after either his looks, his money, or his father's company, has made his distrustful of anyone one who ever said "I love you," to him. Still, he'll wait, knowing that when he met his soul mate, he would know. But in the meantime, business is business, and if dating and persading a young naive girl into getting her mother to sell a prominate game shop to his father's company, then he'll do it. However, his attetion to business gets a little sidetracked when he meets one Yugi Muto.
Chapter One
Prologue
It started out as such a pleasant dream … or memory … or maybe both. He could never really tell the difference between the two when he was captured in the enthrall of sleep. It didn't' really matter to him though, he both loved and hated each with the same amount of passion that it didn't matter to him which one would haunt him during the night. Each started with such the same beginnings, a calling to his subconscious that he would not be able to gather enough resistance in his sleep controlled mind to resist. Even if his life depended on it.
Those emotions, he knew, however long they lasted, were merely the prelude to the nightmare that occur sometime during the dream's – memory's – conclusion. They would bring with them such undeniable joy and heart clutching anguish, that the next morning, when he would be blessed with the repeating blare of his alarm clock, he could only belittle and demean himself for daring to remember such things like a past that could not be changed. Such foolish "Once upon a time," fairytales that his mother told him so long ago, too long ago to really remember clearly, but not so long ago to completely forget, either. Stupid childish stories, of adventure; feats of magic; princes, riding on their valiant steeds, coming to save a damsel in distress from the clutches of a fire breathing dragon. Countless tales of bravery and "Happily ever after," endings that, as a child would make him beg his mother to tell him another. A request she would always reply to with a simple "No," and one of her breath taking smiles. A smile that he loved so much, that even when he didn't get his way, he wouldn't mind. She would then pick him up, carry him up the stairs to his room, and tuck him into bed. Always kissing him on the forehead, and just before she would turn off the light and leave, she would turn around and give him another of her smiles, and whisper, "I love you, my baby-boy." before sleep claimed him.
Nothing in the world, not then and especially not now, could have measured up to one his mother's smiles. It may not have been more than a twitch of her lips, but even that simple act managed to illuminate an entire room. Her smiles carried with them such a strength, that anyone who was blessed with one saw them, no matter how physically or emotionally drained they were, they would be uplifted and invigorated. They would be so renewed, as if a heavy burden would be taken off their shoulders, which they didn't even know was there in the first place. Her smiles continued to hold onto their hidden strength, even as her body didn't, he noticed as he grew and the years passed.
He didn't understand what was happening to his mother at the time. Only comprehending that his mother was "sick", and the doctor was going to make her better, but it would take time. Due to her illness, she would be restricted in many different things, such as how long she could be outside, or what foods had the right amount of nutrients she could eat. He learned another draw-back caused by her illness: she would no longer be able to play or pick up her son. He learned this painful lesson when one night, after she had finished telling him one of her fairytales, she gently turned his head toward her and told him she was to weak that night to tuck him into bed, and that he would have to do it on his own. A request that resulted in one of his five year old tantrum that lasted well into the night, until his father came home, and put the boy to bed himself.
It was a night that he would remember for the rest of his life. He had sat pouting in his race-car bed after a long talk between himself and his father about how "Mommy need to rest so she could get better, and that he should be her little helper, and not make such a fuss about such things", when he could hear the faintest of sobs coming down the hall from his parents room. Silently tip-toeing down the hall would show him sight that he wished he should never have to bear witness to again, as he stood in the hall dressed in his light blue, gold star covered pajamas, grasping his mini-Kuriboh stuff animal, Kuri-chan, peering into his mother and father's room, and seeing his mother reduced to tears. Through her sobs he could barely understand her muttering over and over again at how horrible she felt about not being able to pick up her baby-boy like she use to. He promised, right then and there, that he would be the best child he could be for his mother until she got better and was her old self again.
It was an empty promise, as the months went on, and his mother's condition never seemed to improve. She became a ghost of herself, wasting away before his very eyes, her skin that once always had a healthy glow to it became a chalky white, her hands that use to hold him tightly became cold and skeletal like, the skin appearing to be stretched across the bones. The life in her eyes and soul seemed to have faded away. Only her smile seeming to have any strength left at all. That one night she was unable to pick up her child turned into many, and even her bear hugs lost their strength as his mother's health worsened. It took her a great amount of strength to get out of bed in the morning. A task that eventually came to an end as well, but she still told him stories.
No matter how hard it was for her to sit up in bed to hug and give him a kiss, no matter how little he saw her around the house besides his parent's bedroom, every single night she still managed to entrap him in one of her adventures. Her angle's voice making the story come to life right before his very eyes. She had such a way describing the hero riding in to save the day, the vanquishing of the evil sorcerer, in such impeccable detail, that he could clearly envision it in his mind's eye. Those stories were the only things that kept him going, and the same could have been said for her as well.
Until that tragic day, that started just like all the ones before it. He had rushed into his parent's room to kiss his mother goodbye before he left for school. She would smile and struggle to get into a sitting position to kiss him on the cheek and ruffle his hair – an act he would kindheartedly complain to, but not really mind in the least – before telling him to hurry or he was going to be late, and have to practically shoo him out the door. Neither ever knowing that hurried goodbye would be the last they would share with each other.
Never knowing that when he would come home that day, she would not be there to ask him how his day went, as he would hop into his parents bed, and receive one of her smiles and a weak hug in greeting. The only thing to greet him that day, much to his undeniable surprise, was the sight of his father's tear stained face, and the ambulance parked in front of his house … its lights and sirens not going off.
His mother's funeral was a beautiful one, with all of her friends and family coming to say their final farewells to her. The church had been decorated with arrangements of her favorite flowers and colors – amethyst – with a dazzling picture of her smiling as she had looked in the time before the illness. However, if asked he wouldn't be able to tell you what kind of music as played, or who gave the most beautiful speech remembering his mother as these things could not be captured and preserved in a photograph. In fact, if you were to ask him about something that happened during the funeral that wasn't in a picture, then he wouldn't be able to tell you. This was because, to be honest, he didn't even remember the funeral at all. To him that day is merely a blur in his memories of complete strangers, all wearing the same bleak black clothing, saying how "Sorry," they were for him and his family. The only thing that he could tell you for certain about that day was how he felt at the time and for many months afterwards: nothing. Just a scene of complete and total numbness that nothing could shake him out of.
He was so disinterest in everything around him, that he didn't even care when one day his father told him that he – not they – were going to be moving to his grandpa's house. He was to live there with his grandfather, while his father did his traveling for work. Not wanting to leave him alone for extended periods of time, his father had said, but he knew the truth. He was no longer naïve, as he watched his father unload the last of the cardboard boxes holding his things from the back of the car. He had stood there silently, not shedding a single tear, as his father gave him a quick and hardly satisfying hug, before his father had said that he had to hurry or he was going to miss his flight. No matter how much it broke his heart, he behaved like a good little boy and robotically waved his father goodbye. All they while knowing the reason his father was abandoning him into the care of another, he didn't want anything to do with him. Didn't want the burden of caring for a child that looked so much like his late wife.
He hardly heard from his father in the near year that followed. Letters, emails, even phone calls were few and far between when it came to how much contact he had with his own father after settling into his grandpa's home. Of course he minded it, he would have been lying if he had said practically being ignored by his father hadn't bothered him, but thankfully his grandpa was there to make up for the lack of parental attention. His grandpa had been so happy that the prospect of his grandson living with him. The old man had even gone so far as to have one the spare rooms upstairs cleaned up and removed the clutter, to accommodate him in his new bed room.
At first he hadn't been to keen on the idea of living in another person's house, even if they were family. He hadn't had much interaction between himself and his grandpa, whom he had only seen a few times during the year on special holidays, due to how far it was between his house, and where his grandfather lived in Domino. But the old man had been patient, never pushing him to talk about his feelings, or forcing him to do anything he didn't feel comfortable with. His grandpa was just like that, he could tell when his grandson had something to say, and would wait for him to say it, never prying. After only a few short months of living with the caring old man, his grandpa managed to break him out of his shell, reminded him that although both of his parents may have been gone - in a way - he could still be happy. His fondest memories of the time with his grandpa were when the two of them would go to the park and spend the whole day there, on one of the park benches playing a new game that his grandpa had gotten for the shop and wanted his grandson to "test" before he sold any to the customers.
Of course he should have known those happy times couldn't had lasted for ever and listened to Murphy's laws. If he had, then he would have known to keep a lookout for trouble, while one day he was helping his grandpa unload some new merchandise. He had heard the bell in the front of the shop, signaling a customer. He had told his grandpa not to worry about it, that he would go help them while the old man finished. Never suspecting, as he rushed out of the backroom, and skidded to a stop in-front of the persons who had entered the shop, that his entire world would be turned upside down again. All thanks to seeing his father, after almost an entire month of not hearing from the man, and a young woman. Not just any woman it turned out to be, as his father introduced him to his beautiful lady friend – and his future stepmother.
He wasn't really quite sure how to react when he had heard the news. Was he supposed to be happy that his father had found a replacement for his mother? That the woman his father was going to marry had hardly looked at her future stepson with more that the look of distain? As if he was no more than a bug that had crossed her path, and wasn't sure if she should brush it away and ignore it, or crush it under her heal. Unable to determine the best way to handle the new situation, he just smiled, and tried to be polite as possible, just as his real mother had taught him to be around strangers. All the while wanting nothing more than to talk to his father, wanting some answers as to why his father was getting married less than a year after his wife's death. Answers he never got that night, or the nights after that, when after his father had introduced his fiancée to grandpa, who was obviously less than impressed with the news, but managed to hold his tongue around the young lady. Apparently his father hadn't wanted to spend the money on a hotel when he had some relative in the city that he and his fiancée could stay with for free, and unfortunately he had been relocated to sleeping in the living room for the duration of his father's and fiancée's stay.
The wedding came soon after that on a sunny but slightly chilly day in the spring, with only the most exquisite cuisine on the menu and elaborate decorations money could buy at the reception – paid for mostly out of his grandpa's pocket as he would learn some time in the years afterward. He had been forced into the latest styles of suits, his stepmother had said. It was all white with a blue silk tie, and white dress shoes, but he swore was the most itchy and scruffy piece of clothing he had ever worn. Especially with the large cluster of frills that had made up part of the collar, that no matter how many times he smoothed down, always managed to pop back up and covered the bottom half of his face.
It was only a few minutes before the actual ceremony, pulling at his suit's uncomfortable collar and trying to not drop the rings on the pillow he was carrying, that he had meet the other members of his new family, his stepsisters. He hadn't been able to meet them prior to the wedding due to the fact that they both attended one of the country's leading best schools that offered dormitories, where they lived all year round. Both were around his age and had been very complementary and excited their new "little" stepbrother was so "cute". Complements that he didn't find very complementary, but said nothing against, not wanting to cause any trouble between him and his new stepsisters.
He had been kept out of the way for most of the day, during the marriage ceremony and the reception, forced to sit at the little kid table in the corner and eat his dinner and cake without much incident. The only time he had been permitted up was when one of his new stepsisters had literary dragged him out of his chair onto the dance floor, and preceded to spin him around in circles until he was sick. An action that had resulted in being late for the last of the wedding photos with his new family. Of course at the time he hadn't understood how his stepmother's bouquet had accidently managed to slip from her fingers, and fall in front of his face, just as the photo was being taken. It hadn't mattered though, she had said, they had already taken enough pictures, and didn't need to have a perfect shot, even though they had already taken a family portrait - one without him in it.
It was after that – and much complaining by his new stepmother – that his new stepfamily had cleaned out a few of the spear bedrooms upstairs moved into his grandpa' shop. She had said that they should have their own place, and not be a burden on his grandpa, but his father ignored her, saying he hadn't wanted to spend the money on a place to live, something they could have for free. His grandpa had tried his best to make his new daughter-in-law and her daughters as welcome as he could, offering his son's wife a job as the shop manager and letting his new granddaughter's help alongside his grandson in doing odd jobs around the shop. His father had even quit his job that took him away from home for long periods of time to be with his family, and opted to work as a cashier in the "family" shop as it became to be called. Mostly because the idea of sitting behind a counter for a few hours of the day had been more of an appealing career choice to his father, rather than spending countless hours on commercial flights, and in the el-cheep-o-crap-o hotels his company was willing to pay for.
The months after the wedding hadn't gone as well as he had hoped. It was an awkward time for him and his new family. The relationship between him and his stepsisters was deceit; they were very kind to him and treated him as if he really had been their brother all their lives. (Even if the younger of the two had been a little forceful in her sibling love for him). However, the same couldn't be said between him and his stepmother. There had been more than one awkward conversations and uncomfortable silences between him and her. Not so say he didn't try, he had honestly wanted to like his stepmother for the sake of his father, but she did make it rather difficult to like her. Whenever the two of them managed to find themselves alone with the other - a situation both tried to avoid as much as possible - the air was so thick with tension it was oppressive to the point of being smothering. All attempts of conversation made on his part were instantly shut down by a few of her short, clipped responses before she found some reason to leave the room. Relations between himself and his father hadn't improved much either. It seemed his father had a far greater interest in sports games and his card buddies (not to mention his wife when ever his father had managed to find any spare time alone with her) than spending quality time with his only son.
His grandpa hadn't made much progress with his new relatives much either, as he had noticed after his stepmother had pulled another one of her vanishing acts during the work day without telling anyone where she was going, or when she would be back. He had just finished restocking the shop's shelves and was about to inform his grandpa he had finished, when he had overheard an argument between his grandpa and his father. Apparently the older man hadn't appreciated the behavior of his step-granddaughters, with them constantly opening games without permission and not cleaning up after themselves, or in their lack of manners as far as he was concerned. What got him really livid was his daughter-in-law's squandering of the shop's funds on her numerous shopping sprees. An act his father firmly denied her of doing shouting at the top of his lungs as he did so, and stormed out of the shop. Not noticing when he almost knotted over his own son in the process, and jumped into his car before speeding off down the street.
The sight of his father swinging the door to the shop open with such force that the bell hanging above flew off and landed somewhere amongst the rows of games, vanishing into the glare of the bright afternoon sun, without so much as a single glance back as his son called out for him, was the last time he would see his father. The last time he would see him alive anyway. The next time would be three days later, after his grandpa had received a call in the middle of the night that day his father had stormed out of the shop, informing him that his son, his grandson's father, had been in a horrible accident and they needed him to come down to the station and ID the body.
His stepmother did not take the news very well, having spent the better part of the two days after the call in her bathroom sobbing her eyes out, mourning the loss of her husband. Her daughters not wanting to leave their rooms, crying as well, but his grandpa had taken the news the hardest it seemed. The old man hadn't said, eaten, or apparently slept in the time between learning of his only son's death and the funeral. At first he himself almost didn't believe it, that he had lost his only other blood related parent. That he was without any kind of parental guidance in his life, but sure enough, three days after that terrible night, on a dreary day with almost constant downpour, his father's funeral took place, and he was laid to rest, right alongside his first wife.
The months that passed after his father's funeral were much like the time after his mother's. He hadn't had much an interest in anything or anyone … that is until he met the first friends he would ever have. Of course their introduction wasn't the most ideal way to meet friends, the two would first be known to him for backing him up against a wall and taking his lunch money. After that bullying him on a regular basis just for the sear amusement of it. That is until one day they were running for their lives right alongside him, as the trio made a fast dash into an alley in order to escape from a much larger bully, hell-bent on beating the shit out of all three of them. He bypasses the chance to make a break for it, to abandon his once tormentors and let them have a taste of their own medicine for a change, but he just couldn't do it. He was too good hearted to just forsake someone else, and in a burst of bravery that even he didn't know he had he stood up to the larger teen, asking him to spare the two he had called his friends.
It was some hours later, the last thing he remembered being the three of them lying beaten on the ground after the larger bully had finished having his fun with them, that he had awoke in his bed bandaged up at home, with no recognition of how he had gotten there. Apparently, after he had passed out, they had carried him to his grandpa's place. Surprisingly though, when he went back to school the next day, the once bullies acted like his best friends, which they did become, and have been to this day. He had even convinced his grandpa and stepmother to let them live in the shop with the family due to their troubled homes, the older man agreeing on the spot and a lot of convincing with his stepmother. Their friendship may have started on a bumpy road, but he wouldn't trade the memory of how he became friends with them for anything in the world.
During this time, he would meet the girl who would become the closest thing to a sister - closer than his stepsisters - he would ever have. She had been the granddaughter of his grandpa's friends. She had a spunky attitude, and could be rather rude and bluntly honest, but as they got to know each other better, whenever their grandfathers would leave them in the care of his stepmother, while the older gentlemen would head to Egypt on another expedition. Together they shared a mutual crush, she being the first pretty girl to ever show any real interest in a guy like him. That childish attraction ended as they became closer, always ready and willing to share anything, everything with the other without the fear of rejection or being laughed at for what they said. They would listen to the other, never telling the other what to do in a situation and expect it to be done, or interrupting the other while they were talking. They came to realize their relationship wasn't based on a romantic type of love, but rather a familiar one. Both would be immensely saddened when their grandpas would return, and they would have to depart from each other until till the next time, they would miss each other deeply, but still keep in correspondence with each other, emailing the other at the very least once a week. They were the sibling the other had never had, and they loved each other deeply for it.
His happy moments didn't last much longer past the summer of his father's death, however, when he noticed a slight change in his stepmother's attitude and behavior toward him. She still lived with him and his grandpa, the older man being too kind to just push his late son's wife and her children out onto the street, without any means of support. She was still distant, not really making the effort to connect with her stepson, just as she had always been, but it didn't stop there. After his father's death, she seemed to become colder to him, refused to acknowledge his presence at all unless his grandpa was nearby, and on the rare occasions that she did speak to him willingly, it was only to snap at him for supposedly doing something wrong, or to insult him for something or other.
He had also noticed that her work effort had seriously depleted, when it came to doing her job in the shop. She still had to have her shopping sprees funded by shop funds, but on many occasions, when she was suppose to be working, he had often found her (if she was anywhere in the shop or in her room above it in the living quarters to be found at all) taking a nap on the job, or chatting away on the phone for what could have easily been hours at a time. She had also taken up the habit of pushing her jobs onto him, asking (demanding, threatening) him to take over her, or her daughter's work, while she and the girls ran out for a moment, moments that occurred more often and lasting hours in duration. He tried to not let it bother him, as much as he could. He still wanted to try to know this woman his father had loved enough to marry, but he didn't much help on her side. Often when he would go the extra mile to share important things or do some-kind of bonding experience with her, she would only push him away (in some cases literary push him away), and demand he not come near her again, before stomping out of the room. Still, he hadn't wanted to disappoint his father's spirit, and stop trying. No matter how often he wanted too.
However cold and distant her behavior was towards him, however, only happened in the absence of his grandpa, he came to learn. Whenever the older man was in the room or nearby she was as sweet and caring as any mother could be to her children. It was only after careful observation that he learned the reason to her bipolar behavior towards him, a fact that would often become the punch line for countless jokes between him and his friends. His stepmother was afraid of his grandpa! The confidant and overly attractive woman, who was taller than anyone he had ever known, even when she wasn't sporting the latest (and highest) stilettos, and who possessed a glare that could scare the devil … was afraid of a little old man who just barely broke the five foot mark! She only put on the "nice stepmother" act whenever his grandpa was around because she didn't want to lose the best connection to easy money she had ever had.
Of course his grandpa wasn't aware of his daughter-in-laws behavior towards his grandson. If he had known, he wouldn't have put up with the infuriating gold-digger. Yes, he knew the reason why she had agreed to marry his son, after only knowing the man for a few short months, but he was unaware of her treatment to his grandson. What he saw of her care and treatment of his only blood related grandchild when he was around, and by the way she treated her own children, made her affections genuine in the old man's eyes. It was due to the fact that he believed she had taken a liking to his grandson that he allowed her and her ungrateful children to stay in the shop. In times when he found himself weak after doing a task that would have been easy for him to do nearly forty years ago, when it seemed his age had finally caught up to him, he would admit he wasn't a young man anymore, and who knew how long he was going to stick around. His grandchild needed some kind of parentally care that he wouldn't always be there to provide, so he believed that his late son's second wife was the best possible answer. She would be there to take care of his grandchild and the boy's friends, as well as the shop when he was gone.
Which he did leave, in a way, but not in the one he had meant when he made the decision to let the woman stay. Only a few days before the end of his grandchild's last year in middle school, he had received a letter from his good friend and fellow Egyptologist, asking him if he wished to accompany him on another of his expeditions to a new tomb that had been discovered. At first the old man had been a bit reluctant in accepting the invitation. Not saying that he didn't want to go, after all it wasn't everyday a new tomb is discovered, and he would have been lying if he had denied wanting to go at all. The prospect of being one of the expedition's leading historians was something that had always been a dream of his. It was for that very same reason he was hesitant in agreeing to go. If he did go to Egypt, then he would be leaving his grandson for quite some time, anywhere between a couple of months to a year or more, all depending on how long the excavation took place. It was only after much convincing by his grandson and the other children that worked in his shop, he packed his bags, and waved goodbye to his family from the back of a taxi that took him to the airport. Crying in both excitement and sadness at the same time there.
His grandson had been crying too. He had wanted nothing more than to wish his grandpa the best of luck on the excavation, and hoped that the older man would return soon. Having to endure the entire summer under the hawk like gaze of his stepmother would have been torture under any other circumstances, but he was willing to do anything for his grandpa. The kind and loving man who had taken him in when his own father hadn't wanted the burden of raising his own son, and didn't even try to mend the broken bond between them after he had remarried. His grandpa was the most important person to him, besides his friends of course. It was the reason, as he watched the taxi take his grandpa away, he choked back his request for the older man to stay, unable to shake off the unsettling chill that something would go very wrong on this particular trip.
However, his longing for the old man to return only grew stronger each and every day that summer. It seemed night after night, when he would gaze out his window, into the endless black oblivion of sky sprinkled with stars, he would wish his grandpa would come home. They had always made sure to call and email at least once a week, sharing everything that had happened to them, no matter how exciting or dull it was. His desire for his grandpa to return only became more frequent due to the treatment of his stepmother.
Without the presence of his grandpa to guard him, she had become twice as cruel to him, and his friends as well it seemed, when they had also become a target for her quick temper and snapping words. She would often make them work double shifts for the shop, and "accidently" stiff them more than a few dollars on their pay when paychecks were handed out. His friends had told him that he shouldn't be pushed around by the woman, the witch who had made herself at home in a house that was not hers, and had threatened to tell his grandpa, but he had managed to calm their arguments when he had promised he would mention his stepmother's behavior in his next email. Which he never got to send when the next day his computer had been found, smashed to pieces, after it had apparently been knocked over by her two cats. He also hadn't been able to call his grandpa about his stepmother when the piece of paper with his grandpa's number had been ruined by the two little demons from hell as well. It didn't matter though, he would simply wait until his grandpa called some time later during the week, has he had always done, and just inform the old man then. It was a call that never came.
It was a few weeks after the date his grandpa had promised to return, that he had become extremely worried. During the time that his computer had broken and the phone busted, he had not received any kind of contact from his grandpa. His grandpa hadn't sent him any word, even if the old man hadn't been able to reach him via email or call, he still didn't even get a simple letter from his grandpa. Heck, even a cheesy postcard from the nearest tourist trap would have satisfied his worry, but none ever came.
It would have only been a few days before he had gotten so concerned, he would have jumped onto the next flight to Egypt to check on his grandpa himself that the dreadful letter arrived. It had been sent by his grandpa's friend, grandfather to his almost-sister, and the one that had invited his grandpa on the excavation. Apparently his grandpa had fallen ill to a terrible plague that was moving throughout the country, and at the moment was in such horrible condition, that the doctors weren't sure if the old man was going to survive it. His grandpa was in a stable condition for the time being, but still in need of critical care. His possibility for recovery, according to the doctors, depended on a lot of luck and self will. His grandpa's friend promised to stay with his grandpa, and take excellent care of him, as the old man was too ill to consider sending him back to Domino in his condition. His sister's grandfather promised he would send him word whenever possible. Those letters that arrived weekly where the only things that keep him from going insane from worry and depression.
With the beginning of the new school year, which was also his first year in high school, came with it the revealing of his stepmother's true character. With his grandpa a breaths away from death, she hadn't needed to worry about the older man finding out about the way she had treated his grandson. It seemed that in retaliation for all the months to a year of having to swallow and choke down her dislike for her stepson had finally been unleashed with the absence of the older man. Once the family had learned of his grandpa's condition she had promptly quit her job as office manager, and let her daughters stop working as well, while she continued to spend the shop's fund and set out to make a life of luxury for herself. If it came from a foreign country, and had a name that she couldn't pronounce (regardless of the price tag's size) then she would buy it, even if whatever she bought would never be used or worn. Trips to the spa and salon, which had previously only lasted for a few hours, turned into all-day to a week visits. She had even bought a new car each for herself and her daughters.
During the time she had taken the game shop under her tyrannical rule, she had forced her stepson, and his friends to work for countless hours, often paying them less than minimum wage, in order to support her and her daughter's outlandish spending. They would have refused to work under such outrageous conditions, but they were left with little choice when the woman threatened to fire, and kick his friends out onto the street, with nowhere to go. They knew she had the power to make good on her threat, with his grandpa being so ill, and she was good on her word, the heartless woman wouldn't lose a wink of sleep over it. The only ones of them that were safe from the stepmother's threats were her stepson and the daughter of his grandpa's friend, but besides losing their home, the friends hadn't wanted to abandon their pal to that woman's cruelty.
He and his friends worked for hours and hours and hours, a good portion of those hours for practically no pay, only managing to scrap up enough money to by their friend a new computer so he could get back in touch with his grandpa. Again, though, he didn't tell his grandpa about the recent developments with his stepmother because he knew if he did, the older man would get himself on the fastest flight back to Domino, his health be damned.
His life for years after that, each and every day wishing his grandpa would quickly recover and come home, were spent in the same basic routine. Day after day he and his friends would work in the shop only being free from their prison for school, with little to no pay depending on the mood of his stepmother. Trying to survive through each day as best as he could, holding out for as long as was possible, and even going out of his way to avoid and/or appease his stepmother. His stepmother had even dubbed him the unofficial servant to herself and her daughters, making him responsible for most of the cooking and cleaning of the shop.
No matter the laughing task, he would take anything she threw at him in stride, completing it to the best of his abilities before moving onto the next chore she had assigned him for the day. Yet even when his stepmother would him work to the bone – not caring of his health or sleep deprivation – he still managed to hold onto his cheerful and peaceful deposition, never losing his ability to smile as the simplest of things in this life that brought him joy, regardless of how small it may have been. His ability to love and willingness to smile never faltering through the years he was forced into servitude in his own house by his stepmother.
However, when the day was finally through – when he was aching all over from working for hours in the shop only to work on the long list of chores his stepmother would leave for him to do once he got off his shift – he would stumble up the stairs to his bedroom (the attic), and make it as far as his bed before passing out from exhaustion. Never sure how much sleep he would get before the dreams settled in.
Dreams of what-if's, what-could-have-been's, every single night would play themselves in his mind. All the while taunting him with visions of the life he could have had. A life filled with joy and laughter, if his grandpa wasn't sick to death, if his father had been a little more caring toward his only son, if his mother hadn't died.
The worst of the dreams, the ones that would send him tossing and turning all throughout the night, were when he would relive his past. When he would be forced to face his past as it fast forward before his very eyes, showing him how much his life had changed. The few happy years of his childhood before the tragic death of his mother, his fathers neglect when he was forced to come live with his grandpa. Their short moment of happiness destroyed by the return of his father and his introduction to his new stepmother. Her cruel treatment of him before and after his father's death, it escalating after his grandpa's health taking a turn for the worst.
Those were the dreams that he had hated the most of all. It was one of those dreams, he realized as he heard the repeating blare of his alarm clock in the morning, pulling him from the grip of sleep once again, that he had dreamed that night.
A dream that brought with it both a longing for the past ... and the reality of the present that he both loved and hated with the same amount of passion.
And there you go folks. Hope you enjoyed it, as I did work really hard on this. It only took me two bags of pretzels, four poweraids, and a pack of choloate chip cookies to write this thing. Please do me a favor and leave me a review, telling me what you think about it. If reivews are good I'll try to get this thing updated every week to two weeks for you. But just to let you know, don't expect chapter two until after the 4th of July, cus I won't be in the country to work on it at all.
That being said, I think I'll end it here for now. Bona nocte!