The rejected mate

Because my mother had married Ken, we had to move to a complete city. Our new house in California had chandeliers dropping from every part of the roof, pictures hung in golden frames, and the most amazing architecture. It was different from the houses I lived in as a child. The first house I lived in was Grandma’s house, which had thatched roofs and carpet floors, and later, my mother’s house, which I had to move into after her death. From the look of our new house, I guess my stepfather’s job was paying well after all. "Carry that bag properly!" Ken, my stepfather, yelled as he held his phones in his palms, texting while he walked. As I carried the six heavy bags to our new apartment, I wondered why he could not help with carrying one bag; after all, he had the strength to carry everything. Ken was one of the security guards that the king had just employed, and while he would do so much to protect the royal family, he would not do anything to protect his stepdaughter. This was why he was fired from his old job: he was fired because he would often sleep while on duty, leading the bank to be robbed overnight by armed robbers. The reasons were not far-fetched, but I refused to dwell on them on this very day. Based on his instruction, I held the bags firmly in my hands and made my way to our apartment. "That’s your room," he said, pointing to the poorly lit room in the attic. My mother and Ken chose the master bedroom that had proper ventilation and a soft king-size bed, while I had to settle for the dark room filled with cobwebs. I squinted my eyes to find the bed in my room, but there was nothing but a folded mat in the corner of the room. I picked it up and laid it on the floor while I arranged my things. Before I could lay the last item on the floor, my mother called me from the sitting room down the stairs., “Yes, Mom," I responded while scrambling through the stairs. . "How many times have I warned you never to refer to me as your mother? It is Regina. My name is Regina!" She yelled with her eyes wide open. It sounded weird each time I called her that, but my mother’s love for herself and her youth trumped her love for me. . Regina avoided anything that made her look old and less attractive to her husband, and that included calling her mother. "Here are the groceries. Make me some vegetable soup with these," she instructed, handing me a brown paper bag filled with raw food items. I stepped into the kitchen and made my way to prepare the meal, after which I served them both as I waited for them to complete their meal. During meals, even before we moved to California, my mother made a rule. The rule was that I could only eat after she and Ken were done eating. My mother, Regina, claimed that my type of person was only entitled to remnants and nothing more. On some days, I was lucky enough to get some, and on other days, and days like this when Ken requested more, I had to go to sleep hungry. But I was not going to do that today. I picked a few dollar bills from my purse, which contained some of the earnings that I made from working my last job as a waitress in a public restaurant. "Where are you going?" Ken asked as though he cared. I knew he did not. He just wanted to make sure that I did not go anywhere that could soil his reputation. If my safety was jeopardised, his skill as a security guard for the king would be questioned. Heck, he could even get fired. Ken cared about his reputation in an almost obsessive manner. Having a dented image was why he was fired from his old job: he was fired because he would often sleep while on duty, leading the bank to be robbed overnight by armed robbers one day. Even though I hated him, I could imagine what would happen to him and even us if he did not secure the king properly by doing his job. Pretending not to hear a word he said, I slammed the door and headed for the grocery store. Luckily for me, I did not have to look too far because the grocery store was just across the street. I walked right in and saw a girl standing in front of the cash register. I guessed that she was the cashier. "Hey… I would like to get a chocolate bar and a bottle of water, please," I requested politely. "Sure," the girl at the cash register said, smiling. "Are you new here?" "Yes, I am," I replied sharply, staring from my head to my toe to make sure there was nothing about me that showcased me as the new girl. "What’s your name?" the new girl asked. "Ella… My name is Ella," I responded, almost choking at the water she had passed on to me from the shelf. "It is Gemma here. Pro-tip: whatever it is that you do, please stay away from the Queen," Gemma said as she cackled. There was something about Gemma that made me feel comfortable around her. Other than the fact that she was wearing black from head to toe, something about her made me feel at peace. I paid for the things I bought and made my way to the door, but I realised that if I stepped outside of the door, I would have to return home to my pathetic mother, Regina, and her husband, Ken. So, in a bid to escape my realities a little, I went back to ask Gemma for anywhere I could stay to while away time, pending when my parents would be tired from all the escapades they had engaged in during the day and would be forced to sleep due to immense fatigue. "Well, there’s an arcade just down the road. I could take you there if you like, but you’ll have to wait for me to clock out in twenty minutes." "Oh! That is fine." I said. Waiting twenty minutes for Gemma was far more convenient than returning home. As customers walked in, Gemma answered every one of them with a smile and an immense level of confidence I wish I had. The twenty minutes of waiting ended, and Gemma grabbed her jacket from the hanger beside the door. "Let’s go…" Gemma said