Cassie

1.Cassie

My alarm clock screamed causing me to wake up with a jolt. Time to start another crappy day.

I regarded the clock with disgust. It read 4:01 am; Time to make breakfast.

I pulled myself out of bed, hitting both my cheeks with my hand in other to keep my body functional. I dragged myself towards my bathroom door. The huge mirror in my wardrobe took the opportunity to explain to me how horrible my morning face was.

I had gotten the mirror when Ella had changed the mirror in her walk-in closet. She had ordered for the mirror to be thrown out but I had managed to sneak the it back into the house and inside my room, after more than a little difficulty. She'd rather have had the mirror destroyed than let me have it.

The figure in the mirror stood up straight reluctantly and stared right back at me. It was a mess. Hair was like a black tumbleweed, leftover makeup, sunken eyes. There was dried-up drool on my cheek and hair. Everything looked like it was run over by a truck. The only thing relatively outstanding was the emerald green eyes. Even that seemed to lose its glow with each passing day.

As I stared at my reflection in the mirror I couldn't help but wonder how different my life would be if my parents wanted me or if my adopted dad was alive.
I sighed and shuffled through the bathroom door. There wasn't any need to waste time on thoughts like that.

I came out of the bathroom with my towel tied around me. I walked towards my little wardrobe and picked out a pair of faded jeans and a baggy blue top.

It wasn't really hard picking out an outfit. I don't have much to choose from since Stella never really bothered about what I wore. I make do with what I can get with what I make from my part-time job in a bakery downtown.

I put on my outfit and brush my hair, tying it up in a bun. My hair takes extra time and effort especially since I haven't been able to take better care of it. Having the opportunity to use shampoo was Christmas.
I got my backpack, my books and the rest of my stuff, put on my sneakers and hurried downstairs.

This is easily my hardest chore: climbing down from the attic, and then the long flight of stairs to the ground floor.
I hated it for at least two reasons...
Firstly, I don't want the exercise
Secondly, it reminds me that I'm part of a "family" that doesn't want me.

It's a pretty big mansion in the countryside that has about 8 rooms plus a huge kitchen, dining room, an outdoor pool, a gaming room, a library, a gym and others. And only four people live in the mansion. Me my adopted mom and the twins. But somehow I still manage to end up living in the attic.

The model kitchen doesn't look or feel homely. It is like those kitchens you'd find in a five-star hotel or a fancy movie.
As I got into the kitchen I started preparing breakfast.
(4:57) I would be dead meat if breakfast is not ready by 7:00 a.m.
I drop my backpack on the side of the kitchen counter. I quickly started making breakfast. I can't be late for school today. I can't miss another stupid test.

Oh sorry guys, I forgot to tell you a little bit about myself. Well, my name is Cinderella Russell, oops, I mean Cassie Russell, this is my suck-up life.

I was abandoned by my parents when I was just a baby. I'm not exactly sure why but I guess they didn't want a baby. Two years later I got adopted by a rich couple. They were very nice to me and showered me with love and care. A year later some things started to change. My adoptive mom started treating me a bit differently. She would beat me for any slight mistake I made and it mostly happened when my adopted dad was not home or on a business trip. My adopted dad always treated me like a princess and always tried his best to protect me from getting harassed by her whenever he was around.

Sometimes I would try to ask her whatever I had done wrong and she would usually reply by throwing abusive words at me, calling me a mistake or telling me not to call her mom because she was never my mom and will never be.
A couple of months after Stella gave birth to a set of twins; a girl and a boy.

I was very happy to have siblings to play with. Not surprisingly, but very surprising to a child, it only made things worse as the hatred Stella felt for me grew strong. I had always been a little princess to my dad which made Stella even angrier. She'd claim that I took all the attention her children were supposed to have. She would forbid my siblings from coming close to me and repeatedly warned them, right in front of me, not to talk to me. As time passed and we grew older they also learned to despise me like their mom did, maybe even a little more. They'd get jealous of the little affection shown to me by my dad and the little presents he gave to me for always coming top of my class and they would find every opportunity to hurt me for it.

I was fifteen when my dad died in a plane crash as he was returning from a business trip. It was the worst and saddest day of my life.

My life crumbled quicker than his plane crashed. Stella took over everything after his death and did everything to make my life miserable. She didn't even wait till the end of his burial to drive me out of my room and take me to a small room up in the attic.  A maid gets better treatment than I do now.

Sometimes I feel like am Cinderella and my life is like a freaking fairy tale except Cinderella got a happily ever after.
That part of my fairytale had been torn out.
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