Chapter 3: Sadness and Comfort

Before I can say anymore, I'm grabbed from behind. A harsh whisper hisses in my ear. "I thought Mother told you to stay hidden. Be prepared to be punished later." He loosens his grip a bit and moves me away from himself. He plasters on a fake smile and looks down at me. "Sister dearest, I thought you were resting, especially after that fall you took earlier this morning."

I gulp and stare at him. Lie. I can see it in his eyes. He wants me to lie. "I was, but I heard the doorbell and had to go answer the door."

He shifts his grip to my shoulder, and I have to keep myself from showing the pain that he's causing. "You should have just told me, Cindy. I would have answered it for you. There was no need for you to even leave your room." He releases my shoulder and shoos me toward the stairs. "Off you go, back to bed."

"Yes, brother." I hang my head and slowly trudge up the stairs, thinking about what will come later.

I roll over when I hear the door creak open. "Are your guests gone, already, Madam?"

Blonde hair peeks through the crack. "Cinder?"

I perk up at her voice. Madam hasn't come to punish me yet. "Glynda?"

She steps through the door and closes it quickly and quietly. "Yeah, it's me."

I rush over to her, ignoring my protesting body. "You need to leave, like, right now." I try to push her toward the door, but she's apparently stronger than I am.

She grabs me by the shoulder, making me gasp as pain shoots from where Ozzie had grabbed me earlier. She lets go immediately. "Cinder, what have they been doing to you?"

I look away. "Father will be back next week. I'll talk to him about it, then." I look at her with suspicion. "I will not, however, discuss it with someone I just met."

I feel her fingertips ghost over my cheek. "But they're hurting you." She whispers it so softly.

I bat her hand away in anger. "What do you care?! It's only been a week since this shit started happening! It's not like it's a big deal right now." I turn away from her and clutch my side. I shouldn't have tried yelling yet. It hurt so much.

"I do care. No one should be treated like this. It's not right. It's not humane." I hear her clacking over to the pallet that I call a bed now. "It's deplorable that they even get away with this. What about when you go into town? Does anyone say anything?"

I scoff. "I haven't been outside of the house, really, since Father married that bitch." I don't know why, but I find myself just loosening my tongue around her. She's so easy to talk to. I turn around and see her lounging against the wall, staring up at me. "What?"

She pats the spot beside her. "Come and sit down. I have something important to tell you." I see concern and regret in her eyes, and it makes me hesitate.

I hover beside her, debating whether or not I should heed her advice to sit down. She pats the spot again, and I sit. "What's so important that you risk both of us getting punished to slip in and tell me?"

She bites her lip and turns away for a second. When she looks back at me, I see tears start to make her brilliant green eyes shine. "I'm so sorry, Cinder."

I tilt my head in confusion. "What is it? What happened?" I start to get worried. I've seen people take that tone with others before. It's usually when someone tells another person that someone has died that they use that tone. I clutch my chest. "No."

Tears fall freely from Glynda's eyes, and I start to tear up as well. "Your father is dead. I'm so very sorry." She holds her arms out, and without a bit of hesitation, I fall into them and hold onto her tight.

She can't be lying about this, can she? I look up at her from my head rest in the crook of her neck. "He's really dead? This isn't some trick as punishment, is it?"

She recoils. "What kind of sick person would use something like this as a punishment?" She pauses for a second before answering her own question. "The same kind of person that hits her own step daughter." She pulls me away from her. "No, I would never lie about something like this. I couldn't do that to someone."

I see the sincerity in her eyes, the truth. I fall back into her embrace as tears wrack me. He's gone. There's no escaping this, now. I weep for my Father, and I weep for myself. I feel my entire world come apart, then. The walls that I had built up because I knew that all of the beatings and horrible slave labor that is forced upon me would end as soon as Father became aware are all tearing down, brick by brick, letting a flood of emotions loose. Regret hangs at the top of that list, regret that I didn't get to say goodbye to him, hug him when he left. Next would be the utter sadness that someone I love, the one I love the most, is now dead, and I will never see him again.

I feel someone start to pet my hair, and I know it's Glynda. I don't know why, but her presence is comforting beyond what I thought was ever possible. I literally only met her today, but here I am, holding onto her for dear life, taking comfort from her quiet cooing. "Shh, little flame. It'll be alright. I'll be here for you. I'll find a way to help you leave."

I let the sobs decrease slowly, enough that I know i won't bust out in tear again. "What did you call me?"

She smiles. "I heard my mom say that you were like a little flame, residing at the bottom of the fire, just enduring the heat until you can set your own free. So, I just went with it. I thought it sounded a lot better than Cindy, don't you?" She blinks a couple of times, probably trying to figure out if what she said was the wrong thing.

I nod and smile through the tears that again threaten to spill. "Thank you." I hug her to me, and she pats my back in a comforting gesture.

I can hear a small laugh come from her. "Whatever for?"

"For telling me first, for being here, for staying, for calling me little flame." I mumble it into the crook of her neck. I think i just made my first real friend, and it makes me the happiest I've ever been in an impossibly sad situation.

A/N: It's quick, yes, I know, but this is basically where all my thinking was thrown in. I'm a fast paced writer when I'm not going the pace of a snail, so yh.

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