Ghetto Cinderella

Today I am going to tell you of the tale, of a young girl and her love for her father, you might have heard of cinderella, just not the way that I’m going to tell yuh. This is about a girl, whose innocence is her greatest gift, and a sister whose eyes are full of hate and jealousy of her bliss. We start off the night she finds out it’s been her plan all along, to erase her from the picture and have her gone, so that the old hearts of her parents can be hers, and all the riches that she inquires, because when you’re at your lowest, who else to trust then your own daughters.

“What’s this?” She quickly sits up, head still spinning from the pills she swallowed last night and she has a constant ringing in her ear, although the adrenaline rushing to her skull is giving her new found anger, enough to support the worst kind of headache. She looks over to the man in the sheets that she hasn’t washed in weeks, he looks huge laying there, like a big bear, one that she has felt safe with for so long, even though he’s not always nice, she at least thought that he was fair. He grunts and turns over, still not sitting up. She's usually pretty quiet and doesn't normally cause trouble so he probably wasn’t prepared for what she was going to say next.

“What’s that baby?”. She’s holding his phone in both hands. She knew she would probably get it once he figured out what was going on but this was worth it. Honestly she found the message last night when they got home and he passed out cold, she just needed a little time to make sure he was really out of it to bring it up. She reads the text message out loud

“Thanks for coming to get her man, I really needed her gone. Finally getting what I deserve. What does that mean? And why is it from my sister's number?”. He sits up quick now and snatches his phone and yells in her face

“Don’t fucking worry about it! If I needed you to worry about something I would have told you!”. She curled up her body as small as she could and put herself in the corner of the room. She grabs her knees where she still has bruises from a couple nights ago and sits there for a minute. She watches him holding his pants and making his way to the bathroom. Usually she would stay put but this time she needed to know what was going to happen next. She waits till she hears the toilet seat go up and then crawls her way to the bathroom, good thing she was good credit otherwise he would be expecting her to do something sneaky. She puts her ear to the door and tries hard not to breathe or move.

“Yeah man she went through my phone dawg you can’t be texting me!. Call me next time, or matter of fact I’ll call you, by the way I’m still waiting on my cut!” Then he hangs it up. She quickly backs away from the door and scootches her way back to the corner, a little more quickly this time but still quietly. He flushes the imaginary toilet stuff down and then opens the door while he’s washing his hands which he never does and walks out. Immediately looks at her clenching her boney legs in the corner with a face that says "why are you looking at me?”.

“What?” he asks as he stops and looks at her still holding his pants.

“Nothing”. she says softly.

“Pshh, whatever man I’m about to make some breakfast”. And then he walks out to the kitchen, head heald higher then ever. She envies his confidence.

She puts her head in her lap and starts bawling as quietly as possible, holding in her screams, wondering if anyone can hear her. She starts thinking about all the times that she made excuses for her sister, all the times she thought she was helping her, and then to find out the whole time she was working her up to be sold just so she could get her out of the way.. but why?… She didn’t know what to do.

Watch my page for part 2……..