I sleep in silence, dream in fear,
She breaks me down when no one's near.
A smile I fake, a bruise I hide,
But no one sees the tears I've dried.
You call it home, I call it war,
Each breath I take hurts more and more.
She wears a crown of cruel disguise,
While I hold back my lullaby cries.
---
Georgiana's voice cut through the house like a knife. "Queenie!" The sound made her jump, and the towel in her hands dropped into the sink with a wet slap.
Her heart started pounding. She grabbed another towel, wiping her hands fast while trying to breathe. When Goregina called like that, with that mean edge to her voice, you didn't keep her waiting.
Queenie ran to the sitting room, her bare feet quiet on the wooden floors. Each step felt heavy, like she was walking toward something bad.
"Good morning, Mother," she whispered, head down. Her throat felt tight. She couldn't look at Georgina - not today, not ever if she could help it. Last time she looked her stepmother in the eye, what happened after still hurt.
Georgina sat in that big leather chair that seemed to suck up all the light. Her black nightgown made her look cold and mean. When she looked at Queenie, the whole room felt smaller.
"How dare you call me mother?" Georgina's voice was sharp like glass. "Did I tell you to call me that? You think I'd give birth to something worthless like you?" The words hit Queenie in the chest. "You're useless, and now you think I want to hear that awful voice?"
Queenie's body went stiff. The words hurt worse than any slap. She fought not to cry, knowing it would only make things worse. "I'm sorry, I won't do it again," she whispered, barely making a sound.
Georgina got up slow, walking around Queenie like she was circling prey. Her heels clicked on the floor, loud in the quiet room. Queenie's stomach twisted but she stayed still.
"I still don't get why my husband kept you here," Georgina said, walking past her again. "Why didn't he just throw you out? You're nothing to me, and you always will be." She stopped in front of Queenie, eyes mean and narrow. "That's why your mother left you, isn't it? She knew what you really were."
Queenie felt like she couldn't breathe. Georgina had said this before, but it always hurt. Her throat got tight and her eyes burned, but she swallowed the tears down. Crying was just weakness waiting to be used against you.
"You'll never be anything, Queenie," Georgina whispered harsh. "You don't even belong here."
That was it. The final hit. Queenie's heart felt like it cracked, but she couldn't show it. Her fingers twisted together so tight her nails dug into her skin. She buried the hurt deep inside where no one could see it. Georgina's words kept playing in her head. *You're nothing.*
It was true. To them, she was invisible - just a shadow passing through their lives. A mistake they couldn't get rid of. She wasn't a daughter. She wasn't family. She was a ghost in this house, taking up space but meaning nothing.
"What are you standing there for?" Georgina snapped. "Get back to work. You should be done by now. Still washing dishes?" The words stung like a whip.
Queenie's stomach churned. Mrs. Lee glared at her with eyes that burned, making her feel like she was being torn apart. "You got ten minutes," Georgina said cold. "Finish everything and get food on the table. Ten minutes. If you're late, forget about eating today. And stop being lazy, Queenie. You get lazier every day." Her words were sharp and mean. "You planning to leave this house?"
The question hung there, cruel and taunting. Queenie's heart dropped. Leave? Where would she go? Who would take her? There was nobody left.
"I'm sorry, Auntie," Queenie said, forcing a weak smile. "I'll do better next time." She bowed her head and backed away, going to the kitchen where she could disappear again.
Her heart was hammering as she walked back. The pressure in her chest was building, choking her. Ten minutes to finish everything. It felt impossible, but she had no choice. She couldn't fail.
Just as she reached the kitchen door, a soft voice broke through her panic. "You know that isn't possible, Queenie."
Allison. Queenie turned to see her step-sister in the doorway, face full of worry. Her being there was a small comfort, even though it reminded Queenie how alone she really was.
"Where would you go once you're out of this house?" Allison kept going. "There's no one left. No friends. No family. You're alone." The truth of it hit Queenie hard, sinking her deeper into despair.
Queenie opened her mouth but nothing came out. Allison was right.
Allison walked over and hugged her tight. Queenie went stiff at first, then relaxed into the warmth. It was the first bit of kindness she'd felt in so long, and it brought tears to her eyes. "Don't listen to her," Allison whispered. "Don't let her words break you. You're stronger than that."
Queenie blinked fast, wiping her eyes. "I'm fine," she whispered. "It doesn't matter. I'm used to it."
Allison pulled away, looking worried, but didn't say more. Instead, she grabbed the sponge and started scrubbing dishes next to Queenie. The sound of the sponge against the plates filled the quiet between them, a small moment of peace in all the chaos. Queenie felt her shoulders loosen a little, but it didn't last long. Mrs. Lee's harsh words still stuck to her, echoing in her mind.
Allison's soft smile was the only light in the dark kitchen, but even that seemed dimmed by her stepmother's anger.
Queenie sighed, her hands shaking as she got the ingredients for the meal. For a moment she thought about her sister's words. It was like a strange idea had been dropped into her chaotic thoughts, but it got lost under the wave of fear. She looked at Allison, and for just a second, she almost believed her.
"But I have to," Queenie whispered, barely audible. "I don't have a choice."
There was no anger in her voice, just giving up. The idea of standing up to Georgina felt like a dream that was never meant for her. Her body had learned long ago to bend and give in, to disappear where no one would notice her failures. She'd become a shadow - quiet and invisible, existing only to serve and be dismissed.
Allison's face softened. "You don't always have to carry the weight of this place, Queenie," she said, voice firm now. "You deserve more than this. You don't deserve to be treated like some invisible servant. I know it's hard, but there are other ways."
Queenie shook her head, trying to push the words away. "No. This is my place. I'm nothing more than the help here. And if I leave... if I stop, everything will fall apart. She'll make sure of it." The dark thought hung over her, cold and threatening, making it hard to breathe.
For a moment, there was quiet again. The world seemed to stop, the weight of what they were talking about sinking deeper into Queenie's chest. She wanted to believe her sister, wanted to grab onto that tiny bit of hope that there was more for her beyond this prison of a house. But how could she? Everything she'd known her whole life told her there was nothing beyond these walls, nothing but pain and loneliness.
Allison's eyes softened again. She stepped closer to Queenie, her face full of sympathy she didn't say out loud. "You can leave, Queenie. I know it feels impossible, but you can choose something better. Something that's yours."
Queenie looked back down at the sink, her hands shaking as she scrubbed the same plate over and over. Her heart felt heavy, weighed down by the truth of her sister's words and the crushing reality of the life she lived. Every part of her screamed to believe Allison, to believe she was worth more than this. But the fear, the choking fear of what would happen if she stepped out of line, kept her stuck in place.
"I can't," she said, voice thick with defeat. "I don't know how."
Allison didn't say anything at first, just stood there, her presence a quiet comfort, a gentle force trying to anchor Queenie in a moment of fragile peace. After a while, she took a deep breath, like she was gathering her thoughts. "I can't force you to do anything," she said softly, her voice carrying sadness. "But I'll always be here. You're not alone, Queenie."
The weight in Queenie's chest eased a little. She hadn't realized how much she needed someone until now. But Allison... Allison saw her. For the first time in so long, Queenie felt like she might not have to carry the weight alone.
One day, she would be free.
And for the first time, she let herself believe it.
