"And where do you think you're going, little missy?" Aunt Lydia called as Charli tried sneaking out of the house early the following morning, to go to the river.
"I'm going over to Milli's," she lied. She couldn't tell the truth – that she was going to visit a ghost – they wouldn't believe her.
"Oh no, you're not! It's time you helped around the house with the chores," Aunt Lydia replied, her tone of voice high pitched and almost unbearable to the ear.
"But you have a maid and not even Nadia or Esmeralda do chores," Charli objected.
"That doesn't mean to say that you can sponge off us and expect everything to be handed to you on a silver platter," she spat with disgust. "It's time you start earning your keep."
Charli wanted to shout at her and tell her that her name wasn't Cinderella but decided against it.
"You can start with the kitchen. I gave the maid off today, so you can start up by cleaning last night's dishes. Oh, and make sure the kitchen tiles are spotless." She shoved Charli into the kitchen, put a mop in her hand, and, with a condescending gait, she exited the kitchen.
With a sigh, Charli jumped in and started scrubbing away. She was used to cleaning. Her father never hired a maid to clean their home and Charli didn't mind chores. She even used to cook for her and her father, which was a highlight in their life, as he had always bragged how he loved her cooking. Reflux of sadness swept into her heart just thinking about him again.
When she finished cleaning the dishes, and the floors were shining, she glanced back to make sure she hadn't missed anything. Giving herself a pat on the back for a job well done, she proceeded to leave the house.
"Where do you think you're off to?" Nadia yelled from the lounge window as Charli walked down the pathway towards the front gate.
"My mother said I was to tell you that once you're done in the kitchen, you must tidy up the rest of the house and do the washing," Nadia beamed with spiteful delight.
Charli's heart sank. What could she do? She couldn't refuse or walk away. She was at their mercy, so, with a heavy heart, she dragged her feet back into the house.
It took her hours to complete all the chores that never seemed to end as her cousins just kept on piling her with more and more chores. By the time she was done, dusk had crept over the mountain tops.
With a sigh of exhaustion, Charli fell onto her bed. She would just have to go to the river the following day. She forced herself up and into the shower then dragged her feet to her bed and as she fell, there she remained as sleep instantly claimed her.
When the next day dawned, she was overloaded with chores again. She finally gave up hoping to finish her work so that she could go and see Chris. It was obvious that they had no intention of allowing her any free time this weekend. Sadness edged the corners of her heart. There should have been anger clawing parts of it too, but she was devoid of any other emotion other than deep furrows of sorrow. It would have been easy to fall into a pit of self-pity again, but a flutter of hope sparked in the corners of her mind. If she saw him again, then everything would be all right. If she could apologize to him, she would be able to wash away her guilt.
By the end of the day, the weekend was over, and she was exhausted, and every part of her body ached. Her hands were raw from all the scrubbing and cleaning, and her knees were bruised from being on her knees. She fell onto her bed, with not an ounce of energy left to even take a shower.
The following day at school she walked around feeling numb inside.
"What's going on? What happened? When you left my house on Friday afternoon you were fine?" Milli asked worriedly.
"Are you still upset that I don't believe you about Chris?" Milli really didn't want to ruin their friendship.
"No, it's not you. My aunt had me do chores all weekend long. I didn't get a chance to leave the house."
"What? But they have Betsy, why would they ask you to do chores? Doesn't Betsy work full time at your aunt's place?"
"Yes, but apparently, I need to earn my food and lodging now," Charli replied bitterly.
"That's so disgusting. I hate those people. Sorry, I know they're your family and all, but really..."
"The same blood may flow through our veins, but we are not family," Charli replied, adamantly.
"Come and stay with us, even if it's just for a few days. We may not be as well-off as your aunt and them, but we manage. And I know that my parents would love to have you around," Milli suggested, and then added, "it would be so much fun. I've always wanted a sister." Milli's eyes lit up excitedly at the thought.
"I don't know, Mills." Charli hated to impose, especially on Milli's parents, who appeared quite poor, even though was a Geologist. She didn't want to add to their burdens.
"Please," Milli pleaded.
"Let's see what happens." Charli's mind was made up. She wouldn't take up Milli's offer.
"Okay," Milli giggled excitedly.
As if things couldn't get any worse, Charli was called into the principal's office later that day.
"I've spoken to your Aunt Lydia, who agrees with me. You will need to pull up your socks, young lady, if you're going to pass your final year," Mrs. Posthumous warned her, gawking at her with a venomous glare.
"Don't think you're going to go to the school dance. Not unless you show remarkable improvement in your work. I've also had numerous complaints from both students and teachers about your behaviour at this school."
Charli raised her eyebrows, confused. "What behaviour? I have no idea what you're talking about?"
"I'm not going to get into an argument with you, Miss Thompson. Pull up your socks or you will be suspended. You may go."
Angrily, Charli stormed out of the principal's office, ferociously grinding her teeth together. No wonder Chris's mother ran away from this town. An idea flashed through her mind. She could run away too. She didn't have anything to lose. She was sure she could survive on her own. Plans and ideas came rushing through her head and hope flickered. Yes, she wouldn't finish school, but at this rate, she was going to fail anyway. What did she have to lose? Everything had already been taken from her.