Letter From a Dead Girl

Part 4

The world didn't seem to hear my wishes, Will, so I stopped making them. Which turned out to be a good thing, for if I had kept making a wish for every bad event that occurred, I wouldn't be able to do anything but create more and more wishes.
    My aunt and uncle did not accept me as part of their family, instead they had made it their mission for me to remind me I wasn't every chance they got. Every morning I had to get up and slide across the floor to the kitchen. If the floorboards made even one creak, their real daughter,Victoria, would awake. Then there would be a string of complaints coming from that nine year-old mouth that are so squeaky that you wouldn't be able to separate them from ones of a three year-old. The whiney voice would then creep into the air vent and be carried all the way to the room at the end of the hall, where my two relatives would awaken from their deep sleep and stomp down the stairs so I could receive even further yelling.
    I profusely remember one chastising session that occurred a week before my first year of high school was to begin. My aunt- Mrs. Pasley is what I was told to call her- had sent me to the grocery store to buy materials for one of Victoria's many baking projects. She had given me precisely twenty dollars and made sure I knew that if I came back with even a penny less then my original change, she would make sure I remembered for next time. The walk there was short, only a mile or so, so I decided to enjoy my time away from my 'family' and take in the last few days of summer.
    Once I had arrived and collected the groceries needed, indicated by the list I had been provided, I payed the cashier and started walking home as usual. At some point through my walk I had somehow let go of my troubles and and forgotten about the world, focusing only on the colorful flowers lining the sidewalk.
    I had still been in a daze when I reached the corner of fourth and fifth street, where a man always stands. He was always wearing the same pair of ripped jeans, soiled from sitting in the muddy grass, and baggy sweatshirt, faded from many days in the blaring sum without shelter. For some reason, the thought of someone having nowhere to go at night and no food to eat broke me that day. I had given the man money, and in doing so, I condemned myself to feel my relatives wrath.
    The second I arrived home, my aunt was on me. Grabbing the receipt from my hands and furiously counting the money I had left. I remember freezing with fear when I realized what I had done. My aunt looked up and I knew I had really messed up. Her eyes had been narrowed so much I don't think she could actually see through them, but for some reason I saw a little happiness in them, as if she enjoyed any chance to make my life miserable.
    My uncles grip on my arm had been so tight that no matter how much I tried to rip my arm away, his grip stayed absolute. He dragged me all the way out of the door, along the side of the house, and all the way up to the cellar door. There he yank the creaky doors open with one hand a nearly through me inside. Before I had even a chance to get up, the doors were slammed shut, plunging me into darkness. Luckily, I had had my key chain in my pocket, which had a mini flashlight on it that I had saved up your spare change for for a month.
    I stayed down there for two days, drinking just the spare water bottles stacked in the corner and eating every last crum from the granola bar I had kept in my sweatshirt pocket. During the entire time I thought of the fairy tales I used to read during lunch as I hood in the library during 8th grade. I had kept imagining that I was Cinderella and that my Prince Charming was going to appear suddenly and take me far away to a glistening castle and we would live happily ever after.
    I never got a happy ending, Will, but I did find a Prince Charming.

A/N: Hello! Hope your liking the story. I've started another other story-Just Like Larissa-so sorry if I don't update on time every week.