Chores

All I wanted to do was sit here in this room and think. All I wanted to do was find a way out of here and go home. I didn't want to live my life in a book. Especially not a fairytale book that was full of misogyny and abuse towards women.

I just knew that this world would bring out my violent side. And if I didn't tread carefully, I could wind up in whatever version of this world's prison there was. Or would the book just take me to a different, even worse, story? Hell, I didn't even know how many stories this book was going to make me live through. I could be stuck here for the rest of my life for all I knew.

And on top of that, I needed to find a male lead, a counterpart, that had a birthmark that was just like mine. Where was this guy supposed to be? Where was this birthmark of his? Was it somewhere that would be hidden like mine? D..did I need to see him naked?

"Oh, come on!" I groaned loudly. "This is not what I signed up for. Not that I actually signed up for it at all." I shook my head. "I'm a virgin for crying out loud. I have never been with a guy before. And they expect me to be able to look at his body for a hidden mark? How many men was I supposed to go through until I found this guy? Was the book trying to turn me into its version of a literary slut? That wasn't right.

While I was agonizing over this, there was the sound of someone coming up the steps to my room. I didn't know which family member that it was, but I didn't really care. I knew that pretty much all of them were going to hate me.

"Even more reason why I think this is the Cinderella story." I whispered to myself before the mystery person on the stairs came into view.

"Ashen, my dear daughter." It was this character's father. At least I believed that he was her father and not the stepfather. With the way the 'mother' treated me she felt more like Cinderella's evil stepmother than anything else.

"Hello, Father." I tried to sound calm and not at all like I was pissed off and scared because of this book that I was in.

"I have come to tell you goodbye. I am off on business now. Your stepmother will look after things while I am away. I know that you and her do not see eye to eye all of the time, but I would like you to try. For my sake at least." Well, that was more confirmation that I might be right about all of this. I was almost completely certain that I was in the Cinderella story now. Was this father of mine going to die while out on his business? And then after that I will be reduced to doing even more work than I was already supposed to do.

"I will try, Father." I nodded at him, agreeing to something I never would have if I were truly being Alex and not Ashenella.

"Thank you." He had sat on the bed next to me a moment ago and was now leaning in to hug me gently.

Honestly, this hug, even the smell of the man that was here in this book, reminded me of my dad. My real dad, not the storybook one. He didn't look like him at all, not really, but he felt like him.

I don't know, maybe I was just missing home already. Maybe I just wanted to have my dad save me or something. Not that he had ever saved me before. He always taught me how to save myself.

"Be good, Ashen. I will see you in a month when I return."

"Of course." I agreed to what he said. It wasn't like I had a choice.

But, damn! I just had a thought run through my mind. If I had to live here for a month before he died and I was reduced to the true version of this story, then how long would I actually be here? What was going to happen to me? How many months long was this story going to be?

There were just way too many variables there for me to comprehend. I didn't know what to do besides just do as I was told for the time being. And that alone was going to be a tough one for me.

After my 'father' left the room, there was another set of steps coming up the stairs. This time, instead of sounding calm and gentle, they were angry and were stomping toward me.

"Get up, you little leech." It was the stepmother.

"Is there something that I can help you with?" I asked her in as calm of a voice as I could. I would do my chores, but I was not going to cower in fear.

"Do not get smart with me, young lady. I am still the boss of you. While your father is away, you do as I tell you to. Understood?"

"Of course, there is nothing else that I would rather be doing at all." So much sarcasm dripped from those words that I thought that she was going to get angry. Though, I don't think she really understood the tone that I had used. She just merely thought that I was being complacent. What an idiot.

"Get downstairs immediately. You are to scrub the entire house. When you finish with the first floor you are to clean the bedroom. I want the laundry washed, the floors polished, the windows scrubbed, lunch and dinner prepared on time, and everything back to the way that it needs to be before the night is over. If you do not complete your tasks, you will lose all food privileges for the week. There will be no breakfast, no lunch, no dinner, absolutely nothing but the water from the horse trough in the barn. Actually, if you cannot finish your work, you will sleep in the barn until your father comes home. Do you understand me?" She was seething with anger as she ordered me around.

"Well then, I guess I will be sleeping with the horses." I shrugged my shoulders and rose from the bed. "I should be getting to work now. I have ever so much to do." I felt like an idiot talking like this, but it also made me feel like I was being extra sarcastic with her. And, even though I knew I couldn't complete the tasks and would suffer because of it, I felt an odd sense of satisfaction.

I got to work on the tasks that my stepmother, Milly, had set for me. I had a feeling that the 'Milly' stood for something like Millicent and that just made me want to laugh. Such a horrible name, and the nickname she chose was worse.

I started by gathering all the laundry for the family. Thankfully, in times like this, people didn't have closets filled with dozens of things like they did back where I was from. They usually wore the same thing a few times a week and only dressed up when they needed to. The sisters, who I already knew I would hate, were the ones with the most clothes. Gilly didn't have much, and the father had almost nothing. My stepmother had more than Gilly, but less than the sisters. It was maybe two washing machine loads worth of laundry when I put it all together. It wouldn't take long to wash it in modern times. Here though, it would take me forever.

I had to draw on Ashenella's memories again. That was how I knew where everything was and how to do the chores that were given to me. I started the lunch and dinner prep and had them marinate while the clothing soaked outback. After the meal prep was done I scrubbed the laundry and hung it out to dry. The floors, windows, and surfaces weren't that bad. Actually, looking at it all, I could tell that Milly made Ashenella clean like this all of the time. And because of that, I was actually able to clean the entire house the way that she told me to.

I was tired and exhausted by the time the day ended. But I had managed to finish all of my tasks which meant that I was allowed to eat dinner, alone in my room. And I wasn't being forced to sleep in the barn with the horses. All in all, it could have been worse. Well, that was until Milly screamed for me before she went to bed.

"ASHENELLA!"

"Oh great, what could she possibly want now." I felt her voice and that one word scream of hers reverberate through my body. My weariness tripled the moment that I heard her voice.

"ASHENELLA!"

"She screamed at me again. Guess it's time for me to go and work some more now." I reluctantly sighed. "There is no point in trying to fight it. I need to follow along with the story after all." I slowly got to my feet, exhausted and pissed off. "Fuck you, story. I know that I said that already, but fuck you."

"Aww, but I want to be your friend." I heard that strange voice from the book again.

"You're not acting like a friend." I snapped at it as I stomped out of my room. I knew that the voice would follow, but the stomping made me feel better. "Definitely not a friend."