Missing Star

Chapter 3

Marissa

I could almost feel her hand still on my face by the time I got to the house. Without looking around I went straight for the sink and started on the dishes. I knew leaving the house was a risk every time it wasn't for chores. But something about tonight pulled me from my better judgment.

What in the world was I thinking? That she wouldn't find out I had gone missing. Some Days it felt like my grandmother's mission was to make sure I was miserable. I could do the same task a million times for her and some days it was hunky-dory. Others it was like I had ended the world. She would fly into a rage and beat me till she was done being mad or someone stepped in.

Someone stopping her through was not often. She knew where to hit and how to play off anything that couldn't be explained. Like I stepped too close to the back of a horse the one time my ankle was broken. Another one of her favorites was ``I had two left feet and couldn't walk a straight line if my life depended on it."

Over the years I had just accepted that this was my life and did my best to get through the day without getting myself in trouble. For some reason though tonight had just called to me. I needed to be under the stars to breathe.

"You i***t!!!" A yell came from the side of me.

Looking over I saw my cousin Tiffany. She was pointing to a new floor-length gown.

Crap just what I needed "I'm sorry, what can I do for you" I spat out as I dried my hands.

"Look at my dress. They got this dress just for me to meet Thomas Baca." She said giving a half-turn to keep eyes on me.

"Looks good Tiff," I said. It was beautiful, it was ocean green that hugged her curves till it dropped down in soft folds at her feet with a small train.

She smirked "Ohhh ya it is and it's all mine. So watch what you're doing. I wouldn't want grandma to find out you ruined my things...again."

I knew that it wasn't an ideal threat. She was a year older than me and hated me. For what reason, I'll never know I guess.

She walked outside with her head high like she was the queen of England or some sh*t. And there I was in hand-me-downs, a swollen cheek, and a simple braid. I was plain and she was better than me in all departments. Except for the attitude.

I saw him again, the poor guy that I had run into, and never got that chance to even tell him sorry. I hated the feelings that stirred in me seeing him with my grandparents and cousin. Why did this bother me though? I learned young that needing anyone was a mistake and it only meant that I would end up hurt.

Thinking back I had no one, at the age of 10 I was considered my father’s motherless child by the family. And his family was large by normal standards. He was one of twelve and all of them had no less than 5 kids. I mean except my father, it was just me and my sister that I knew of anyhow. I was used as a free maid and nanny to most of them and the others just treated me like I wasn’t even there. My sister on the other hand was his Princess. Once he told me that he just needed to see me graduate high school or turn 18 to "complete his duty of raising me."

While I was one month away from Graduation and getting my freedom. That is what kept me going some days. Freedom to leave and never turn back.