Amy woke up in the little room she shared with her two younger stepsisters. She stretched and swung her legs off the small single bed.

Walking to the bathroom across the passage from her room, she heard her dad in the kitchen.

In the bathroom, she washed her face and combed her fingers through her long, knotted, brown hair. When she opened the bathroom door again her older brother, George, was waiting impatiently for her to come out of the bathroom, so he could use it. She mumbled, “Good morning,” as she brushed past him.

Reaching the kitchen, she smiled when she saw her dad. “Morning, Dad.”

Her dad turned to face her. “Morning, Amy. Good sleep?”

One day of every year he looked at her with the expression he had in his eyes today. Amy did not want to think about it right at that minute, so she said, with a smile, “I had the weirdest dreams.”

He was going to ask her about her dreams, when her stepmother came into the room. Amy avoided making eye contact with her and quickly moved toward the toaster and the bread bin.

She opened the container and pulled two slices of bread from the packet. Looking intently at the toaster in front of her, she slipped the two slices into the toaster, and pushed the lever on the side down.

Her stepmother grunted as she walked past Amy, “Morning.”

Amy grumbled a reply that sounded almost like good morning.

Impatiently Amy stared at the toaster, while she waited for the two slices of white bread to pop back up again. She heard her dad and stepmother talking in the background, but she was not listening to them. She was not interested.

Amy sighed with relief when the bread jumped up at her, and she grabbed at them. Her fingertips scorched and she quickly dropped them on the counter.

Her stepmother asked from behind her, “Hope you will be cleaning that?”

Amy did not turn around to face her but rolled her eyes. “I always do.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw her stepmother packing lunch for her two stepsisters, Anne and Sam. Disgruntled Amy took the two slices of toast, without buttering them and left the room.

Her stepmother was always packing lunch for her stepsisters, but not for her. If Amy did not know better, she would think her stepmother was doing it on purpose to hurt her feelings.

Actually, Amy considered, she did know better, and her stepmother was just being mean and bitter. Amy had to fight back the tears. Today was not a good day to start feeling sorry for herself.

This was the day, fourteen years ago, when her mom had died, when Amy was only three years old. Although Amy could not remember her mom at all, she would have loved to have a mother, without the word ‘step’ attached to it. Someone who would also cuddle her, show her motherly love. She was not short of receiving love. Her dad always showered her with attention and her dad adored her, but sometimes a girl needed a mother.

Amy took a large bite out of the slice of dry toast and while she chewed on it, she woke up Anne and Sam. She watched them scurry around the small room looking for their shoes and socks, as she pulled herself up onto her bed and rested her back against the wall. She pulled her knees up and slowly she ate her breakfast.

When she licked the last dry crumb from her index finger, she got up from the bed. She knelt down onto the floor and pulled Anne’s shoe from under the bed.

Holding it out to Anne silently, Anne grabbed at it and exclaimed happily, “Thank you, Amy.”

“Put it where you can find it,” Amy replied off-handed.

Anne quickly slipped the shoe onto her foot and tied the laces.

Together Anne and Sam rushed out of the room, when their mom called their names, announcing that breakfast was ready.

Amy started getting ready for school. She changed into her school uniform and then she stood in front of the mirror on the inside of her cupboard door to fix her hair. She brushed as many knots as she could out of her hair and tied it into a ponytail behind her head.

Her dad called her, and she quickly pushed the cupboard door shut.

Without seeing any of the other people she shared her home with, she walked out the house through the front door and got into the passenger seat of her dad’s car.

Her dad smiled at her when he looked across the space between them. Sometimes Amy wondered why he never stood up for her when her stepmother was being evil toward her, but to be honest she did not care. She stopped caring a long time ago.

They talked and mostly Amy only listened. She had heard it all before.

Relieved she got out of the car when he stopped it in front of the entrance to the High School. She pulled her bag across her one shoulder as she stepped out of the car and then, with a casual wave across her shoulder to her dad, she walked onto the school grounds.

Amy did not notice it when every boy she walked past stopped what they were doing, hoping today they would be the one who caught her attention. She walked past each one of them without knowing the interest they had in her. She did not know almost every boy in school wished she would be his girlfriend.

Amy did not have any friends, boy or girl. The girls thought she was too sulky and sullen to be friends with, and the boys were too nervous to approach her, for fear of being rejected.

Amy did not care. All she wanted was to finish school and to go away from this place as far as she could go.

A distant planet would not be far enough.

CONTINUE READING