Turning Tables

I am running, my white dress stained green as grass, the bottom of my feet caked with dirt. I swing my arms up and twirl around, letting the moonlight claim my porcelain face. I look down to check my mother’s ancient leather watch that has been passed down through my family for generations.

"Shoot, I'm late!" I whispered to myself. I sprinted back to my mansion that was surrounded by a ten foot wall. I quietly squeezed under a small gap where not many guards were patrolling. I approached the door which I always kept unlocked and soon found myself standing behind my aunt, or as I like to call her the Wicked Witch of the West. Auntie Leslie has been my guardian ever since my parents were killed in a tragic car accident. She stood there, tall, dressed in my mother's veil. The fact that she had the nerve to wear my dead mother's clothing sickens me.

"Oh daring there you are!" the Witch screeched with her raspy voice. She had her backed turned, admiring her reflection in the mirror. "I have some very exciting news for you and that is..." her eyes rolled to see the maid standing by.

"You," she barked at the maid, "Leave!" Dawn, the maid, pinched the ends of her skirt, bowed, and headed for the door.

"Good luck Skylar." she whispered to me before leaving.

"Oh daring, I have to tell you something, which I know your parents would be so proud of if they were here today. You are betrothed to the son of the very wealthy Sir Richard." I think I just had a mini heart attack.

"But how am I to marry, for I am only sixteen? Do I not have school? Do I not have a say in whom I marry?" I questioned.

She turned around and then walked up to me, "You ungrateful child, you have to do as I say or I'll...," she smiled, "I'll use all the money your parents left for you on a face lift."

"No, you can't" I begged. The money my parents set aside was the only way I could pay for a ticket out of this hell house.

She grabbed my face with one hand and I felt her fingernails leaving another mark of abuse. "You will do as I say." she growled. "Now go get dressed. Sir Richard and his son Alexander will be here in an hour." She turned her back, once again, to admire her reflection.

 I ran up the stairs to my bedroom and closed the door. I couldn't take it anymore; I swiftly packed up my belongings and tip toed down the stairs and out the open door I went. I pulled my body through the hole under the wall and once again I am running. My white dress stained green as grass, the bottom of my feet caked with dirt. I swing my arms up and twirl around, letting the moonlight, once again, claim my porcelain face.