1

2189 Words
Standing at the side of the dining table in my house patiently waiting for fathers approval of dinner before I can leave and clean up the kitchen. The way that’s sounds makes me look like a maid rather than a daughter. Well, I am exactly that a maid, the help around the house. It has only been like that in the last few years , since my mother left when I was ten things changed dramatically. I may have lived with my sister and brother and their father, but I’m not sure I consider them family. You see, although we have the same mother, I have a different dad from my sister and brother. You could say the black sheep of the family or the mistake as my father tells me. Well, he isnt my biological father but he is the only man I’ve known as my father. My father always reminds me that I was a mistake, that my mother was a slut for getting pregnant by another man. Like it was my fault, I didn’t ask to be brought into this world or my mother leaving,  I’m sure he had something to do with it. He never hides the fact that he hates me. Anyway, once my father nods his head I know I can leave the room and continue with my chores for the rest of the evening. As I quickly walk back to the kitchen to clean up and finish the dishes my sister comes in. “Aria, have you eaten today?” Rose asks.  “Not yet. Father said I was to wait until after my chores were done before I would be allowed anything" I tell her as I continue washing dishes. Which is the same response I give every time someone asks that question. “Make sure you have something. You’re too skinny Aria. I’ve also managed to get some more clothes, I’ve hidden them in the back of the closet ok.” Rose whispers as she heads back through to the dining room. I breathe a sigh of relief. Although my father treats me like a maid and slave my sister and brother try make sure I’m ok, that’s only happened since they both moved out. They ask if I have eaten and give me clothes and give a little cash for emergencies. It’s been like this for as long as I can remember. Our family, if you can call them that, are pretty rich and well known around town. I know from eavesdropping on business meetings that my father isnt always doing legal activities when it comes to his business. I’m pretty sure they are some sort of mafia or gang or something but I do not want to get to involved. I would end up on so much trouble if I got caught. Rose my older sister is getting married next month, she moved out a while ago to live with her soon to be husband, but I’m not allowed to attend the wedding. I’m pretty sure she’s marrying to help her father out with his business, like an arranged marriage. My brother Brandon, married a couple years ago and lives with his wife on the other side of town. I’m not very keen on his wife but then I have only met her once or twice. Again I wasn’t allowed to that wedding either. As my father, Henry, always reminds me, I’m not really his family. I shouldn’t be seen or heard by others. It wasn’t always like that. When my mother was still here, she would home-school me. Father didn’t want to pay for my education as he felt it was a waste of money. My mother and I would sit in the library for her to teach me. I was a quick learner and I still am to this day. She would tell me different stories about her childhood how she met my real father, but she never told me his name. When she left, I don’t understand why she didn’t take me with her. Rose was really upset and didn’t speak to anyone for days after she left. Brandon didn’t really show any emotion at the time, but I knew it affected him too. The first few years after my mum left, I was allowed to sit with them to eat and Rose would take me shopping and to the play park. When I was about 13 father moved my things to the basement. I used to have a lovely bedroom, with a big comfy bed and a beautiful closet. Father said I didn’t deserve to have nice things, that was why he moved me. Over the years, after my mother left, Rose would get in trouble for buying me clothes or toiletries. A growing teenage girl needs new clothes every so often with the way my body was changing, I needed new clothes quicker than Rose could get them for me. When I was fifteen, Rose begged my father to take me to get a bra. I had an ample amount in the chest area and the small bra I was wearing was so uncomfortable. Father eventually gave in and allowed us to go shopping for a few clothes. That was the last time it happened. From then on Rose would keep her old clothes for me. They didn’t always fit me well, but I was grateful for her help. When I turned 16, father came into my room one evening and went through my clothes and removed all of the recent clothes Rose had given me. He was yelling telling they weren’t mine and that I didn’t deserve them. I was left with a few items of clothing that hardly fitted me. I had to beg my father to get me sanitary towels when I was on my period. He would stand and laugh at me and then walk away. In the end I had to sneak them out of Rose’s room or the maids room. I cook and clean everyday apart from a Saturday. That is the only day I have to myself. The other maids do the cleaning and whatever cooking is needed. Like this weekend father is having a small gathering of business associates and the maids are doing the food for it. He has these type of meetings at least twice month, I know it’s with the same people as I recognise voices from previous dinners. I stay in my small room in the basement when he has these meetings. I have to stay out of sight and not be heard. He doesn’t want people knowing I’m here. As I lay on my bed reading a book from the library one of the maids Mary comes to tell me I need to help out as one of the others has went home not well. I reluctantly get up and change into the outfit I have to wear. A maids outfit and head upstairs to the kitchen to see what needs doing. I’m left with having to serve the food and drinks. Which is not something father will be happy about. As I enter the dining room I can see fathers reaction. He looks at me with a disgusted look on his face.  I don’t make eye contact with any of the guests, but I know Rose is here as she held my hand while I poured her drinks. After I’ve finished serving I head back to the kitchen. I had not it realised that father followed me. “Why are you here?” he hisses in my ear.  Mary explains that they needed my help, he wasn’t happy about it and swapped my job with Mary. So I’m now left in the kitchen cleaning up and helping prepare other foods. I do prefer this. Means I don’t have to interact with father and his stupid guests.  After everyone has left we quickly get the kitchen and dining room cleaned up and I head to bed. As the weeks go by, I hardly see father which is a good thing, after that night I had to help out. I got a pretty bad beating. He punched and slapped me about giving me a black eye and a few bruised ribs. Whenever he isnt happy about something I get the brunt of it. I’m his personal punch bag. That is one of the reasons he prefers me in the kitchen. So his guests don’t see the bruises he gives me. After the first couple beatings I tried to leave the house during the night but was caught by one of his guards. Where I got another beating from father for trying to escape. After that beating I was in bed for two days with a dislocated shoulder and my eye was so swollen I couldn’t open it.   I’m nineteen now, I have still never been to school therefore I have no friends.  I educated myself, after my mum left using an old laptop that Brandon gave me. I managed to complete an online course in business management and I also completed different accounting courses. Just for something to do. I have no interest in business but if I ever get out of here at lest I have some sort of qualifications to get a job. I have never left the house since my mother left us. Nearly ten years ago, was the last time I saw the outside of the house. I’m allowed an hour in the back garden once a day then I have to do chores. If I don’t follow his rules, the maids and guards around the house tell him and I get punished. There are other maids around the house and they get treated better than I do. They wear better clothes than I do also. They get paid for working here, I don’t. I don’t even get a proper meal if there are leftovers I get something. I know my father hates me but he won’t allow me to leave, he thinks I owe him something. Not sure what, and I really don’t want to find out. Thinking about it I’m pretty sure the maids sleep with him so they are treating better. As the night goes on I hear laughter and chatter from my family in the lounge, as I clean up the dishes from the dining room. I used to be allowed to join them but as soon as I hit 16 I wasn’t welcome. Rose and Brandon used to persuade father to let me sit with them for a little while but it soon stopped. Once everyone has left my father shouts on me to go to his office. I gently knock his door waiting for permission to enter. “get in here” he shouts. I walk in, my gaze to the floor. I’m not allowed to give eye contact to anyone without permission. “Friday evening we have guests joining us for dinner. Business meeting of sorts. You are to clean the house and cook for us all. Rose and Brandon will be here with their families also. You better behave and stay hidden once the food is served, understand?” he all but yells at me. “Yes sir" I reply. Another fancy dinner for his business associates. Great fun. “May I ask how many guests will be attending so I know to make enough food.” It’s a simple question and I know he’ll yell right back at me. “Stupid girl. At least 8 people maybe ten. I’m sure you will manage. Now leave and make sure the kitchen is tidy before you go to bed" “Yes sir.” Once safely out of the office I head to the kitchen to check what food I will need for the dinner. Possibly ten people which means a lot of cooking, not that I really mind. I do love cooking and I’ve gotten better at it over the years. As I write down a list of things I’ll need, I know Marco will get them for me. He’s my father’s sort of bodyguard and driver, he’s like an uncle to me. Always helping me out. Getting me essentials that I need, my father always forgets I’m here and the maids don’t care about me. I remember one time when I was unwell with a really bad chest infection, Marco took me to the doctor even though my father said I wasn’t allowed to go out of the house. I could hardly breath and was on my hands and knees coughing. Marco scooped me up and looked after me all behind my fathers back.  He did get into trouble for it but he didn’t regret helping me out at all. I eventually get into bed just after midnight. I need to be up at 530am to have breakfast ready for father. As I roll over on my tiny bed in my tiny room in the basement if the house, I let out a loud and long sigh, hoping that one day I will be able to escape this place. 
Free reading for new users
Scan code to download app
Facebookexpand_more
  • author-avatar
    Writer
  • chap_listContents
  • likeADD