Um, implied Warning for all chapters after this: Trigger: Domestic Violence, Child Abuse, Harsh Treatment, Mental Abuse, Other...

Chapter 2: Cuts and Bruises

I huff as I scrub the tiles in the kitchen for the fourth time today. She kept finding spots here and there, making me redo everything instead of just cleaning that one spot that she found. It's getting on my ever loving nerves that she would just come in here and just dictate the duties that she gave me. I don't give a flying fladoodle if she wants the entire floor spotless. If she wants it to be so clean, then she needs to be in here, too! She can get down on her knees and grab a rag to help me every once in awhile, but no, she can't soil her new gown! Where does she even get the money to pay for these new gowns? I haven't had a new outfit since months before Father left. He always said that there are more important things to pay for than new clothes every week, but here she is, splurging on the most ridiculous looking clothes that I've ever seen. What the heck is she wanting with so much ruffles and all?

I sigh and wipe my brow with the back of my hand. Lifting my arm still hurts. It puts strain on my side, where I had broken that rib only last week. The pain has dissipated a bit since then, but it's still there, dully throbbing through my entire body. I gasp as I pull my hand away and see a splash of red fall to the floor. Blood is leaking from the cuts that have accumulated over the past week of grueling work. Crap. I stand up and rush to the sink to wash off the blood that's trickling from the miniscule scratches. I suck in a sharp breath when the water hits the scratches and starts to wash the burning chemicals off.

I hear the clicking of her heels and panic. She's going to see the blood. I know she is, and then, she'll make me scrub the floor again. Oh god, oh no. I can't do it again! I turn the water off quickly and rush over to where the small pool of blood is and quickly wipe over it, dunking the rag into the bucket and repeating the process to make sure that it's clean. I sigh in relief when I see every bit of the red is gone, and the blood that's still slowly streaming from my hands is being absorbed by the cloth.

"Ah, you're finally done? Let me see." She walks toward me, her brown eyes holding menace and suspicion in them, of what I have no idea, but it's there, and I feel fear wash over me every time I look into them. It's like a cascading pool of anguish and soul stealing terror pulls me in, and there's no way to escape. That's why I'm still here, that and Father. "Hmm, yes. Satisfactory. Now, make yourself presentable and prepare something for tonight's dinner. I am having a friend over later, and I want everything to be in order."

I have to keep looking at her, despite the urge to run. "Yes, Mother."

She backhands me, then. I don't even see it coming. "You will address me as Madam while in the presence of others. I do not want to be associated with you while there are important guests over. Do you understand?"

Will she just make up her mind? I can't keep switching between names. One of these days I'm going to slip up, and she's going to beat me for it. Maybe I should just stick to madam from now on. I sigh in relief as I hear her leave. Now, I have to really go clean up. My hands are stinging again from the cleaner. I know my lips is bleeding. I can taste that coppery tang on the tip of my tongue. I rub my cheek, knowing that a bruise will eventually show, maybe not today, but tomorrow, definitely. I turn from my hard work in the kitchen and make my way slowly up the stairs. Maybe I can find a new dress in the trunks stored up here.

"Madam, the food is done." I peek my head through the door to the drawing room to see her pacing back and forth.

She stops to glare at me. "Good. Now, scram. I don't want you to show your face. Put everything on the table and be sure to leave out the water and wine."

I nod. If she didn't want them to see me, why did I even have to get dressed up? "Yes, Madam." I start to go up the stairs when the doorbell rings. I look around. Nobody seems to have heard it. It sounds again, and I just shrug. They won't know. I'll direct them to the drawing room, and then, I'll leave. I tiptoe to the door and open it, cringing when the hinges squeak. "May I help you?"

In front of me stand two of the most gorgeous women I have ever seen. one is obviously younger than the other, but that doesn't detract from the beauty of either of them. The eldest of the two nods politely. "Hello, yes, I've come for a visit." She smiles brightly at me, and I find myself unable to resist smiling back.

The younger of the two turn herself toward the eldest and tries to whisper in her ear. "My god, Mother, she has a handprint on her face." I heard it, and it makes me frown. I was hoping that it wouldn't show up until tomorrow. My hand automatically reaches for my cheek, caressing the painless bruise that is now there.

I just choose to ignore anything they say about it. I'd rather not have injuries be added to what I have already received. I gesture for them to come in. "Madam is in the drawing room. I'll show you the way."

They open and close their mouths, probably debating on whether or not they to comment on my nonchalant attitude about being beaten. If only they actually knew what was going on in my head. "Thank you." The younger keeps staring at me, probably expecting the bruise to just be a figment of her imagination. Of course, they don't really address it. It's rude to insinuate that your hostess may beat her own step daughter, after all.

The younger girl moves closer to me and smiles. "My name's Glynda. What's yours?"

I smile back. "Cinder."

A/N: Well, There's Glynda lol.. I mean, you totally could have guessed, right? Right? But, um, yh, see, I have this weird thing about violence and insults... I can't exactly throw them that well, you know? Like, if you have any suggestions as to insults or ways that Cinder's life can be made absolutely horrid, barring actually killing her, let me know, k?

I do have a account. The link is on my profile. Any contribution would be much appreciated. :)

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