A piece Of My Mind
Olive’s POV
“f**k!” I shouted, bolting upright in my bed.
I was completely soaked from head to toe. Cold water dripped off my hair, ran down my neck, and soaked straight through my thin nightgown into the old mattress beneath me. Using my hands to wipe the water off my face, I blinked through the blur to look at the person standing in front of me.
It was my mother. She stood there holding an empty plastic bowl, looking down at me as if I were a piece of trash she just found on the bottom of her shoe.
“Do I have to keep waking you up every morning?” she said. Her voice was harsh, cold, and completely empty of any love.
I didn’t know what to say. I just sat there on my small, squeaky bed, looking up at her. This was not the first time I was being woken up with a bowl of ice-cold water thrown directly in my face. In fact, it happened almost every single week. But for some reason, I just couldn’t get used to it. I couldn’t get used to seeing my own mother this angry, and I couldn’t get used to seeing so much hatred in her eyes whenever she looked at me.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” I said softly, keeping my eyes low.
She sneered, looking at me with pure disgust. “Will you drag your lazy, fat self out of bed and go join the maids in making breakfast? Your sister is hungry.”
“Yes, mother,” I whispered.
I sat completely still, waiting for her to walk out of the room before I even dared to stand up. The heavy sound of her high heels faded down the hallway. Only then did I let out a long breath. I wiped away the small tears that appeared at the corners of my eyes before they could fall. Crying never helped anyway.
I slowly walked into the small, dimly lit bathroom connected to my room to take my bath. I stripped off my wet clothes and looked at my naked body in the dirty wall mirror.
As I looked at my body, a wave of sadness hit me. I wasn’t beautiful like my sister, who had the perfect slim waist, clear skin, and shiny hair. I was a little bit fat, and my face was just plain—nothing to write home about. I knew my sister took all the family beauty genes. But I still didn’t understand why my parents hated and despised me so much for it.
I wasn’t the one who made myself fat on purpose. I had tried losing weight countless times. I skipped meals, I did exercises in my room until my legs shook, but my body still remained the same. It was like no matter what I did, I was trapped in this skin.
I finally finished bathing, feeling the cold water from the shower wash away the leftover bad dream. I covered my body with my worn-out, faded towel and walked back into my room to get dressed. I knew I didn’t have time to do my hair or fix myself up if I wanted to avoid my mother’s terrible wrath.
I put on my old, worn-out brown dress—the one that looked more like a maid’s uniform than something a daughter of a rich family should wear—and made my way down the long stairs to the kitchen.
When I opened the kitchen door, the heavy smell of fried eggs, sausages, and fresh coffee hit me. The house staff were already busy moving around, frying bacon and chopping fruits for the family.
“Good morning,” I said politely to the head chef and the two kitchen maids.
They gave me sad, sympathetic looks. “Good morning, Olive,” the chef said quietly. “Come, help us slice the bread and plate the pancakes.”
I joined right in, helping them prepare the massive breakfast. As I spread butter on the toasted bread, a bitter thought crossed my mind. I didn’t know why I had to be involved in the kitchen doing hard work every single morning while my sister got to sit in her soft bed and be on her phone all day. My sister was two years older than me, yet she was treated like a fragile glass princess, while I was treated like hired help.
In no time, breakfast was fully cooked and served on silver trays. I grabbed two large plates and joined the main maid to take them out to the grand dining room.
My sister, father, and mother were already sitting there at the long wooden table, waiting impatiently. My father was reading the morning newspaper, while my sister was tapping away on her pink phone, wearing a beautiful silk robe.
“Can’t you do something fast for once in your life?” my mother snapped the moment I stepped into the dining room with the food.
“I’m sorry, Mom, I—” I began to apologize.
Before I could finish, my sister looked up from her phone and let out a cruel laugh. “How will she do something fast when she is as big as a pig?” she said, smiling brightly as if she had just made a super funny joke.
My stomach twisted into a tight knot. I felt the hot blush of embarrassment rush up my neck to my cheeks. But I didn’t dare to say anything back. The last time I challenged my sister or tried to stand up for myself, my mother locked me in the dark basement for a whole night without food. I was punished greatly. I simply didn’t have the strength to take another punishment today, so I kept completely quiet and held my tongue.
The maids bowed and quickly excused themselves back to the kitchen, leaving me standing near the table. I slowly pulled out a chair at the very end of the long table, far away from them, and took my seat.
This was usually the only time of the day I got to sit down with them as a family. But deep down, I knew it wouldn’t last. Soon, they would probably ban me from eating at the dining table altogether.
I reached out and picked up my fork. I began to eat my plate of spaghetti breakfast, chewing silently and looking down at my food.
Suddenly, my sister pushed her glass away with a loud clank. She glared down the table at me.
“Olive, go to the kitchen and make fresh orange juice for me,” she ordered in a bossy voice. “I don’t want this stupid water.”
I stopped my fork halfway to my mouth. I looked at the cold glass of fresh water sitting right next to her plate. A strange, unfamiliar spark ignited inside my chest. Something inside me just snapped. I was so tired. I was so exhausted from being pushed around day after day.
“No,” I said, my voice quiet but firm. “I can’t.”
My sister blinked in shock, her mouth opening slightly. “What did you just say?”
“I said no. I am busy eating, and I have things to do,” I replied, placing my fork down on the plate.
My sister let out an angry laugh. “What does a maid like you have to do? It’s not enough that you are ugly, now you are also going to be lazy and rude?” She slammed her hand on the table. “Go get my juice!”
I looked her straight in the eyes—something I had never done before in my entire life.
“If you can’t drink the water,” I said, my voice rising so everyone could hear me clearly, “you can as well go to hell.”
The whole dining room went dead silent.
My sister looked completely surprised by my response. She sat there frozen, because she knew I had never dared to speak to any of them like that before. My father dropped his newspaper, staring at me in complete disbelief.
My mother’s face turned bright red with explosive anger. Before I could even blink, she stood up, rushed across the room, and SLAP!
Her palm landed hard across my left cheek. The force of the slap knocked my head to the side, and my skin burned like fire.
“How dare you speak to your sister like that?!” my mother screamed, her voice shaking the light fixtures above us. “Are you insane?!”
Instead of shrinking back, instead of crying and apologizing like I always did, I slowly pushed my chair back and stood up. I stood tall, staring right into my mother’s angry eyes, and then looking at my father and my sister.
“The only ones insane here are all of you!” I yelled, my voice ringing loudly through the huge house.
My mother gasped, but I didn’t let her speak.
“You treat me as if I am not your child!” I shouted, tears finally spilling over my burning cheeks, though my voice stayed strong. “For the past years, I have been your maid! I have been living the worst life in this house while you guys have all the money in the world! I sleep in a tiny room while your precious daughter gets whatever she wants and does whatever she wants! I do all the work, I take all the insults, and I am sick of it!”
My mother was breathing heavily, her hands shaking with rage. “I won’t watch you insult me and your sister in my own house!” she shrieked, pointing a furious finger at the door. “You are banned from eating with us! Get out of this dining room right now!”
I looked at the food on the table, then looked back at her with pure hatred burning in my eyes. A dry, bitter smile came to my lips.
“Not like I care about eating with you guys anyway,” I spat out, my voice dripping with venom. “I was already done with my meal.”
I didn’t wait for her to respond. I turned around on my heel and walked out of the dining room.
I marched up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Even though I tried so hard to hold the heavy tears in, I couldn’t stop them anymore. As soon as I reached my small, cold bedroom, I slammed the door shut, threw myself onto my bed, and buried my face in my pillow, crying uncontrollably. My whole body shivered with deep, painful sobs.
