MY STEPSISTER'S MAID; DIRTY SECRETS WITH HER HUSBAND

Melissa's Pov I slept in an attic. To be honest, I was quite thankful for even having a place to sleep. I lived with my Father, his wife, and her daughter. They were all a family, and they didn't try to hide that I wasn't a part of them. I had never known the love of a mother or a father, since I was little I had always been treated like I meant nothing. My mother died during childbirth, I knew my father had loved her because he now blamed me for her death. The blame turned to hatred. I have seen a few pictures of mom, she looked exactly like me. Strawberry blond hair and grey eyes, the little freckles on her face added to her beauty. You'd think we were twins. Dad, on the other hand, hated that I looked like the woman he once loved. He said I was cursed, that I let his wife die. When I turned thirteen years old, he remarried, her name was Eliza and she had two daughters. She was only a few months older than me, while her younger daughter was just eleven years old. Eliza was even worse than my father. She made me do all the house labor while her children played. If I didn't do it right, she would hit me. If I didn't do her children's laundry, she would hit me, every little offense she would hit me, and of course, Dad looked away like it was nothing. Her children began to copy her. They treated me like I meant nothing. The oldest was Alison. She would slap me across the face for not making food on time, and there was nothing I could do. I just swallowed the pain and took it. Two months ago, Alison got married to a multi-billionaire. Eliza had pulled some strings with an old friend. This way she could secure wealth. One less abuser in the house wasn't good enough. Eliza had flogged me with a belt hours ago for not doing Jessie's laundry. Jessie was her youngest and now nineteen years old, surely she was old enough to do it herself. I didn't even think the children knew how to do laundry, they had never touched dirty clothes before. It was all me, they couldn't cook, I did. I did it all. Alison and I were now twenty-four years old. She never wanted to get into college. Her dream was marrying into a rich home and her mother made it happen. I on the other hand, had wanted to study art. I had found some paintings of my mother in the house. It was her hobby and she was good at it. I could draw as well, but not nearly as well as her. I did it either way. For some reason, it made me feel closer to her. But college was just a dream I couldn't achieve. I had just retired into my bedroom in the attic. I lay in bed, breathing tiredly, it was now 9:00pm and I had been working since morning. Silence lingered as I tried to catch my breath, my body still ached from being flogged by Eliza. After a few minutes, I stepped out of bed to shower, I checked my wardrobe and pulled out a pair of black T-shirt and pants. They were worn out. In fact, all my clothes were. That is because they were all worn by Alison first before me. All my clothes were second hand. I closed the drawer shut and as I walked to the door it suddenly opened and Eliza walked in. My heart jumped, had I done something wrong? “Melissa,” she said calmly as he pulled closer, her long blond hair was tied up in a ponytail and her black dress fit her body so perfectly it showed her curves. “Yes ma'am?” “Pack up your bags,” she instructed. I waited for her to continue, but that was it, she said nothing else. “A….are you kicking me out?,” I stuttered, “I'm sorry…I'll fix it, whatever it is, I'll do better, I swear,” I begged, even though life here was hell, there was nowhere else I could go. “You are going to live with the Blackwoods,” Blackwoods. It was the name of the family Alison had married into. “My dear daughter is feeling a little overwhelmed these days and I would like a familiar face. You'll leave in the morning to be a maid for her, do you understand?” My shoulders fell with relief, but it felt unfair. Why did I have to be a maid for a girl my age? I was my father's daughter too. I had every right to live a free life. Her brows pinched together and her eyes darkened. “Do you have anything to say? You are not okay with it?” “I am,” I quickly cut in. She drew closer to me, my breath shuddered with fear with each step she took. She stood before me and pressed her finger against my shoulder. I flinched in pain as her fingers dug in, “The next time I give you an order, you better follow it with a smile that stupid face, do you understand?” she growled, pushing me to the ground with his finger still in my skin. “Yes…,” my voice was strained, hot tears gathered in my eyes as my knees dropped to the ground. “Good,” she adjusted her dress, “A driver will be here to pick you up tomorrow,” With that, she turned around and walked out of the room. I wiped the tears from my eyes, but more dropped down my cheeks, my shoulder ached terribly. I stood up and moved to the mirror in the bedroom. It severely cracked, but I managed. I leaned in to look at my shoulder, four of Eliza's fingerprints were engraved on it and a few drops of blood seeped out of it. The next day, I carried only a small box of clothes in my hand as I walked into Blackwood's mansion. It was exquisite. Everybody looked expensive, even the flowers that laid around to decorate the place. There were multiple maids in the house. How lucky for Alison? She was used to bossing people around. My mouth widened in awe when I saw Alison, it had been two months, her once long blond hair had been cut and it rested on top of her shoulder, she wore a white skirt and a shirt that revealed her shoulders. She crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes scanning me, she looked fierce with that eye liner, her energy was intimidating. Around her neck was a gold necklace and on her arm was a gold wristwatch , she looked down at me from the staircase like I was nothing. “Hello Alison,” I said calmly. She turned around, “Follow me.” Her heels clicked as she walked. I quickly followed her. Soon, we arrived at a room very close to the ground floor. Inside it was larger than my old bedroom, it had a soft bed and a nice smell. “This will be your bedroom,” she said coldly, standing at the door. “Wake up early in the morning to make me dinner, you know what I like, my bedroom is on the top floor, second to your left,” she explained. I turned to face her. This was the longest she had ever spoken to me with no abusive words. “Of course Alison,” She turned, her heels clicking against the tilted floor as she walked off. I quickly moved to shut the door and turned back to face the room. Maybe this place wasn't so bad after all. The next morning, I woke up as early as 5:00 am to clean the house like I did back at home. Nobody was awake yet. I put my hair up in a ponytail and moved to the kitchen. If Alison's food wasn't ready by the time she woke up, I would be in big trouble. As I moved to the kitchen, I suddenly heard footsteps defending the stairs. I looked back and froze as I saw a man, he had black hair and pale skin, he was dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a black T-shirt. He was wiping his eyes so he didn't see me. Was he one of the house help? I had thought they all lived in the maid's quarters, which were different buildings right behind this one. “Who are you?” I asked. His head snapped up, his eyes widening as he saw me, “Who are you?” Just then, I noticed him staggering slightly and quickly held his balance, he raked his fingers through his black hair and I noticed that his cheeks had turned red. “Who are you?,” I asked again, “Are you sick?” He parted his lips to speak, but he suddenly fell backwards and landed, a loud thud erupted in the air. I gasped, and my hand flung to my mouth.