Or so I had hoped. I was so animated to leave! Then… BOOM! No one wanted me for any more than a pound of turnips.

My step mom already had a farm and Rapunzel thinks that turnips cause acne. (Who ever would of told her that? ). Evil smile..

Well any way…

Some guy said he'd even give a pound of cherries to rape me! I politely told him that I would murder him in his sleep and cut off his…

Well you get the picture.

The funny thing is a bunch of people wanted Rapunzel (they wouldn't be able to handle it, trust me).

What's so delightful about her?

So my step mom, I guess I'll call her by her name-Gladys-, reluctantly took us back home.

I instantly ran up to my room, which is actually the attic.

My room has a dark creaky wooden floor, and cheap white wallpaper that's chipped off in many different locations.

In my room there's a small cherry-coloured wooden bed with two white pillows, the cheap kind that probably have rocks in them but are sewn together so you really never know.

There's also a desk, also known as a big piece of flat wood standing on top of more wood that was more shaped like little boxes. Yup, that's my desk!

My desk was short, so instead of a chair, there was a folded blanket that was way too poofy to be a real blanket.

And that was about it.

I took out my coal pencils and my paper, and set it on my desk to work.

I am an artist. Short, sweet and to the point.

The dude that I sell my drawing to told me that I could be rich. Rich is pleasant, right?

I had stolen- ahem- borrowed some paper from Gladys (my step mother) and I had already gotten a cheap coal pencil from a nice man at the market, so I drew.

Usually I draw still life; like flowers, trees, and anything else I see out my window.

And when I say window, I mean a hole that I had been rammed into numerous times by Gladys.

Drawing came naturally to me; Every line, every shape, even when I drew lightly or hard.

In the end I had drawn… A flower.

Again.

I barely documented it as a carnation., I know these things because Gladys gardens and I have to trade it with people.

And people don't like it when you give them a rose instead of an iris.

You only make that mistake once.

Just a single white carnation. Since I had only snagged one piece of paper, I could only drew one picture with Gladys's borrowed paper.

But one day when Gladys wasn't looking I had snuck off to trade another sketch I had drawn, and I traded my picture for ten pieces of paper and a better coal pencil.

So after my flower I had drawn, I started drawing an eye.

Random, but that's what I drew. Dont judge me!

I liked drawing eyes because they can be different every time and they are difficult.

I love a good challenge. I listened to the birds tweeting a song, singing softly to it. Don't even ask how I can sing along with bird- I am just that freaking awesome.

"Anzu!" Gladys shouted, "get down here!".

I quickly put my stuff away where nobody would find it (I would tell you but then you would find it), and ran down the stairs.

"What the hell do you want!" I growled, annoyed that I couldn't keep drawing. Obviously very annoyed, because usually I'm a good enough actress to pretend I don't care.

"Go plant a garden! You need to make your pay here!".

Make my pay here.. What? I don't get it…

"Eek!" I yelped catching the seeds that were thrown at me. Which is pretty impressive considering I don't have very good hand-eye coordination.

I looked at what was so very rudely thrown at me.

Flowers. Roses, to be exact. I didn't want to plant roses! I don't like farming!

Grrrr. . .

"Plant them, now!" Gladys got out her matches from her pocket, "Or else. . .".

"O-Okay" I said, my voice cracking with fear.

She laughed, almost demonically, falling backwards onto the brown couch, setting the matches on the nice light-wood side table.

Yet even my bed had been gnawed on by dogs.

I'm not entirely sure who's dog chewed it.

Or when an unknown somebody's dog chewed on it.

But a dog chewed it.

I ran out the back door to an empty spot of land.

She would burn my hair. Burn it!

She would never burn her precious Rapunzel's hair. But she's burnt my hair before.

When I was seven, I had ruined her flower garden, she had cut it all off and burnt it in the fire place.

She said the second time that she would catch my hair on fire when it was still on my head.

I have to admit something to you guys reading this… I am terrified of fire.

And snakes.

They scare the freaking poo out of me!

I scurried out of the door, clutching the seeds austerely in my fist.

This was gonna be fun.

Omigosh! I dug a hole! I am so proud of myself!

I dug a friggin' hole, and I'm proud!

So proud I am!

I plodded grumpily into the house.

Okay, yes I was proud earlier, but I got a. . .

A boob-boo.

Yes, tragic, I know.

I don't like farming... I frowned.

"Don't scowl, it'll give you wrinkles!" Rapunzel called from the other side of the room, where she was sitting on a big brown couch.

She had her freshly shaven legs crossed, with her blue silk skirt carefully placed around her knees

If I had been holding something, it would be crushed in my fury.

Dim-witted little blonde girl (nothing against blondes!).

I despised that child! She had never worked in her life!

Although she claims looking good is all she can do. Well, the only part of that that's true is that she cant do anything.

But of course Gladys likes her better because she doesn't talk back.

Or disagree.

Or throw her peas at people.

Or- you know what, maybe there are a few reasons. So what? I'm stubborn, get over it!

I sighed in frustration and climbed up to my room, getting out my hidden drawing supplies. Well I guess there's nothing I can do...

Ta-daaa! I am pretty proud of myslef, and at 5 review I'll post the next chappie!

Its not a very big goal, but its a goal!