Badass Cinderella

Chapter 4 - I am going to get a job the very next day.

 A.N: Yesss I finally got required votes on the previous chapter! :D Thanks guys, it means a lot to me :))

Dedication to TyPiCal_GuRl

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Cindy's P.O.V:-

While I clean the dishes for dinner, the doorbell rings

"Cindy! Get the door!" Chelsea calls from the living room, flicking to different channels on the T.V.

I put down the plate and go to the door. Peeking through the peep hole, I see that it my dad has come home.

"Hey Dad! How was your day?" I greet him, opening the door.

"Hey pumpkin, it was good." He smiles, entering the house.

"Do I look fat to you?"

"David!" Sandra comes running to Dad and shows him her arm. "Look what Cindy did." She says with a pout.

Dad inspects the cut and looks at me questioningly.

My eyes widen at her and I instantly say, "No Dad, it was an a-"

"She volunteered to cook dinner today," Sandra cuts in. "And when I came to see how she was doing and told her that she was adding in the wrong amount of salt, she slashed my arm with a knife and yelled at me to not to tell her what to do. I was just helping her." She starts sobbing.

"Cindy!" My dad is in complete shock at the prospect of me being ridiculously berserk."I didn't expect you to be this violent How many times do I have to tell you to not behave with your mother like that?" Dad accuses with a tired face.

"Dad! I told you it was an accident! I didn't mean it, I swear!" I defended, frowning deep in disbelief at my dad.

"Why would I lie and try to frame her? She's my daughter." Sandra continues the drama with tears in her eyes. "Its just that she doesn't accept me as her mother."

'Well you certainly don't treat me like one.' I retort mentally. I stare at her disbelievingly. How can someone be so low? I notice a tear rolling down her cheek. So fake.

"Yes Cindy, why would she frame you?" Dad asks, though his voice is calm yet stern.

"Dad I didn't do it on purpose! I even apologized!" I say, my voice louder in frustration. "But of course, you wouldn't believe your own daughter." I mutter, my fists balling at my sides, and go back to the kitchen, ignoring him calling out for me.

Sighing, I start setting the table, while Dad has gone to freshen up.

At dinner, Dad asks, "So girls, how was your day?"

"Fine, I got an A in my assignment." Stella grins, rolling spaghetti on her fork.