Author's Note: For those of you who may be wondering, this is not the second part to a story.
It's my version of Cinderella from the point of view of the youngest stepsister. It is not my goal to make you feel sorry for her. Who you feel sorry for in this story is up to you.
So, let me know what you think if you want and enjoy.
Ghastly Innocence
Stepsister Two
I
I hated her! And I hated her father!
I closed my eyes, my jaw hurt; I had kept my mouth firmly shut for much of the three-week trip. And the frown that seemed to be taking up permanent residence on my face was growing tiresome.
I looked at my mother; her face was calm, almost pleased. I hate her too! I thought bitterly. She had betrayed my dead father by marrying a complete stranger! Now, my mother, sister and I were a part of this man and his daughter's lives.
I looked through half closed eyes at the man sitting next to my mother. What did she see in him? He wasn't half as handsome as my father was! How could she have fallen in love with a man that had a nose like that? Sighing, I rubbed my own nose. I shuddered as he bent and whispered into my mother's ear, something my own father had done a hundred times.
Glancing at my older sister, I wondered if any of this bothered her. She had been thrilled when my mother told us she was wedding the stranger that had so rudely walked into our lives one very long month ago.
He wasn't unkind, in fact, besides my father; he was one of the nicest men I had ever met. Tears stung the back of my eyes, when would the tears go? When would the pain of seeing my mother with another man leave me alone?
I closed my eyes, feigning sleep; I did not want to watch the man and my mother any longer.
Wind whispered by my ears, chanting long forgotten words into oblivion. My eyes ached and bewilderment ensued.
Why was the air so thick? I breathed through my mouth, wondering where everyone had gone. The fire in front of me had long turned into smothered ashes. Three weeks on the road and not once had one of our fires been allowed to turn into ashes before we wished. Had I been left behind by some chance?
Sweat trickled down my back. I stood to my feet. The air had taken on a certain feeling that set my nerves on edge. I picked up the gray blanket I had been lying on and shook the dirt out of it.
What was I to do? Should I start traveling down the road and hope to catch up with them? Or should I stay and hope they would come after me? After all, they might just be in the woods relieving themselves. I resisted the urge to call out their names; looking at the dead fire, I knew that something was terribly wrong. Panic began to rise in my chest, making it even more difficult for me to breathe.
I screamed as a large, shadowed figure stumbled out of the woods.
My eyes snapped open, air hissed in my throat as my mother's new husband stood bent over me, his large hand on my shoulder. I stared at him, resentment bright in my eyes.
"We're home," he said, his voice rumbling gently in his throat. Home? His home. I straightened, not bothering to say anything. He smiled at me and stepped out of the carriage, looking around, I noticed my mother and sister had all ready gotten out.
Running scarred fingers through my travel weary hair, I looked out the carriage door, almost dreading what I might see next. My breath caught in my throat, before me stood a two story, stone house, due drops dripping from its eaves.
"You like it?" My stepfather asked. I ignored him, catching a warning glance my mother shot at me. I knew what she would say, had we been alone. We were no longer in our own house but in his, I was to respect him like I had my own father. How was I to respect the man that stole my mother from my father?
Suddenly I wanted to cry, all of this was happening too soon! I wanted things to go back to the way they had been; I wanted my father! The urge to cry was so large I could hardly hold it in. My feelings must have been written all over my face, because my stepfather suddenly began ushering all of us inside.
"Oh Robert!" My mother breathed, "It's so beautiful!" I winced at her words. She had been content where we had lived with my father! We did not need this extravagant house to be happy!
We all looked up as a girl's voice was heard from across the driveway. "Papa!" She squealed, running into his arms, letting him sweep her off her feet and spin her around. I winced. "Oh," She said, looking at us, with our plain clothes, curiously. "I didn't know you were bringing back company."
My eyebrows shot up in surprise. He hadn't told her? Had he not even written her a letter to let her know he was bringing home a new wife and her two daughters?
Robert, my stepfather ran darkly tanned fingers through blond hair, he was so different from my father. He grinned; looking a little uncomfortable at the situation he was finding himself in. "Yes, I've been meaning to write you Tiffany," He paused, was that sweat forming above his lip? He flashed his daughter another smile. "Meet my wife."
Tiffany's innocent blue eyes widened in horror, had it not been such a painful situation her expressions might have been funny. My mother shifted uncomfortably next to Robert, I knew she wanted to wrap her thin arms around his larger, stronger arm, but she resisted, knowing that it would hurt Tiffany.
Why couldn't Robert be considerate to our feelings as my mother was to his daughter's?
Robert tried to laugh lightly, I could hear the strain in his voice, "Yes, and these are her daughter's, Darlene," He waved a hand at me, "And Anna Beth," He gestured to my older sister. Anna Beth and I looked at her, not knowing what else to do.
She looked at her father accusingly, as if to say 'how could you do this?' I felt much the same way.
Robert bent low and whispered into one of Tiffany's tiny ears, his rough hair, mingling with her silky blond curls. She stepped back, a hurt expression on her face. She looked one last time at my mother, sister and I before gracefully walking into the house.
"Shall we get you ladies settled?" Robert asked; clapping his hands together, his grin wider than it probably should have been.