Chapter 3 ~ Worth something ~
I willed myself to not cry while Gretta washed my hair. The way she wriggled her fingers through my hair made me miss home. Pop's always told me he wanted my hair because he had none. He'd rake his hands through my hair every time he greeted me; always calling me his 'pretty girl'. Maybe that's why I took offense when Mr. Carthwrite made it known he didn't find me pretty.
“There, your hair is as soft as silk now. I'm just gonna have to cute an inch or two off to get rid of your split ends, but you will still have the nice long length.” I shut my eyes, letting her wring out my hair. “Come child, we don't have much time left. Can you lift yourself?” My eyes opened to see her peering down at me with a questioning look. I closed my eyes again, taking a few deep breaths, before forcing myself out of the bathtub. I forced myself to believe I'd be hit by one of the guards if I didn't move; their voices still fresh in my mind. “Good job.” Gretta praised me, wrapping a towel around my wobbly body.
I was strong enough to stand, but I couldn't get the clothes on for the life of me. I staggered forward every time I tried to pull on the skirt Gretta had given me. Gretta, not being able to watch me struggle for more than a few seconds, helped me.
“I don't really approve of this shirt, but Master Carthwrite said that your branding mark had to show.” My eyes twitched in slight irritation at the shirt, but I lifted my arms and pushed them through the shirt. I bit on my lip, trying to distract myself from the pain of my cuts. I looked in the mirror, surprised by my reflection.
My once full rosy cheeks were now sucked in and pale. Cuts covered my face and arms, I didn't dare look down at my legs to know they were cut up just as badly. My lips were a faint shade of pink and overly chapped. My gaze met my own and I jumped. My eyes; once a bright hazel was now gone and left with a dull color of mushed grass and dirt. Life looked as if it was sucked out of them. Not even I could find a shred of hope in them.
I closed my eyes, shivered, and reopened them, forcing my gaze to the shirt. The sleeves reached just below my elbows and held a firm grip on my skin. I eyed the collar ran my eyes down the front, disgusted by how low it swooped. I was about to pull it up but stopped, my eye sight landing on the burn above my chest.
It looked awful; small boils were splattered all over my branding mark. I belonged to someone now. I couldn't wrap my head around it.
“I know its probably been a long time since you've looked in the mirror, but we need to hurry.” Gretta interrupted my thoughts. I took one last look at myself and noticed my dark brown hair was beginning to curl; a curse I had been born with. By the time it'd be dry, it would be impossible to tame.
I looked away from the mirror, not wanting to see my reflection any longer.
“Hungry?” I didn't answer, but I was sure she could already guess my answer. “We'll go to the kitchen and fix you some food.”
My stomach snarled at the various smells in the kitchen. After having only half a slice of bread every other day, any other kind of food would make you swoon. I did have a whole slice but watching the look of a five year old girl staring at me and my slice of bread with such longing, I just couldn't bare the thought of her not getting enough to eat.
As I waited for Gretta to prepare me something to eat, my thought's drifted to the little girl. She had been called, as well as other kids around her age, the day before me. I could still hear the deafening screams in my head. My heart went out to her, knowing exactly what she endured. I wondered how she was now. Did she have a nice master? Was she being fed? I prayed that she wasn't being beaten like I had every few days.
“Here you are child. My famous beef and gravy with rice.” I could hear the pride in her voice but ignored it, the wonderful smell of meat filling my nose. The instant the fork was placed on the counter, I was eating. My stomach gurgled happily and my taste buds salivated in joy. I was disappointed when I took the last mouthful of beef and gravy, savoring it's taste before it went down.
“I can see you like it just as much as my husband and Master Carthwrite.” Gretta smiled, picking the plate up off the island and washing it in the sink filled with soapy water. “Now,” she placed the plate on a rack to dry and dried her hands. “It's almost time for you to go to Master Carthwrite's office.”
I nervously looked at the floor. He already made it known he didn't like me. How was I suppose to survive when my master hated me?
'Prove to him you are worth something.' Lyle's words whispered through my mind. Prove I was worth something? Isn't being a human and living worth something? I scowled at the thought of someone telling another person that they weren't worth something. Everyone was worth something...and I was going to prove I was worth something.
So, I'm still thinking of a name for the main girl. I've got one that I might use right now, but I was wondering if anyone had any suggestions?
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Branded To Him (On Hold)Horror
I froze; the guard yelled, telling me to get a move on. The unearthly screeching sent all of us into shock, soon turning into fear. Some cried the moment they reached the door. I didn't know what was coming, but it'd be painful. “Next!” I was two ki...