ELLEN POV
I arrived at school drenched in sweat.
A warm smile welcomed me—Ben, our ever-reliable guard. If I wasn't mistaken, he'd been standing watch at these gates for a decade now.
"Good morning, Ellen!" he greeted cheerfully.
"Good morning, Ben. How are you?"
"All good, Ellen. But you weren't here yesterday, were you? Mildred kept pestering me, asking if you came. What happened? Were you sick?"
Even in the middle of the mess my life had become, it lifted my heart to know that someone still remembered me so sincerely.
"No, Ben. I just had somewhere to go," I said, forcing a smile.
His eyes flicked to my cheek. "And that cut?"
"Oh, this?" I brushed my fingers against it. "Just a scratch. It's nothing serious. Anyway, I'll get going now."
He gave me another smile, the kind that lingered like sunshine even as I walked away.
The hallways whispered with stares as I passed, but I kept my chin up. Let them look. All I wanted was a little peace—at least here in school.
Natheville National High School belonged to Mr. Nathe Clarkson, though he'd been living abroad for years, never once returning.
Soon, the announcement came: "Classes are suspended for today due to a visit from important guests. Please proceed to the gymnasium immediately."
Quietly, I made my way there, observing the restless buzz of students around me.
"El!" Mildred called.
"Hmm?"
"Why weren't you here yesterday? And your cheek—what happened?"
"It's nothing. What about you? What happened yesterday?"
"Nothing much. Except… you. You were all anyone could talk about."
As usual. I shook my head, resigned.
When we reached the gym, I froze—my elder brother Justin was there. What was he doing at school?
"El, your cousin—ugh, I just want to strangle him until he turns purple," Mildred muttered, making me laugh despite myself.
We sat at the farthest corner, waiting. I thought there would be some grand announcement. But in the end, it was only about Dad's visit.
Hours passed. When the crowd began to thin, Mildred and I slipped out. She knew nothing of my family. All she believed was that I worked hard just to survive.
"Since we don't have class, want to hang out?" she asked.
"Ah—"
"Ellen, where are you going?"
The voice froze me. Mommy stood there, with Justin glowering behind her.
"You don't have class, right? Why are you still here?"
"And who are you to talk to my friend like that?" Mildred shot back.
I tried to silence her, but—
"Don't interfere. I wasn't talking to you. And you, Ellen—are these the kinds of people you surround yourself with now? No respect?" Mommy's voice rose, drawing stares from every direction.
"Mommy, please—"
"Don't call me that! Alaiza is my only daughter. You… are nothing."
The words cut deeper than any slap.
"Enough, Mil," I whispered. "Next time."
I turned away, ignoring her voice calling after me. Each step I took was heavy, my tears finally spilling—the ones I had tried so hard to hold back.
So for them, only Ate Alaiza mattered. And me? I was nothing more than a servant.
The pain burned through me. I could hardly breathe.
I went straight home, changed my clothes, and buried myself in chores until my body numbed.
Later, a knock came. My brother Brett stood at the door, arms full of papers.
"Do this. I need it as soon as possible. Understand?" He shoved the reports into my face before walking off.
His school reports. No one knew that every achievement my siblings paraded was because of me. I did it all—their assignments, their projects, their speeches. And what did I get in return? Bruises, scars, silence.
And still, I loved them. A foolish love that never asked for anything back.
I worked on the papers, finishing in two hours, just in time to prepare dinner.
Downstairs, a gown caught my eye.
A floor-length, strapless red gown shimmered under the light, its fabric flowing like liquid silk. It glowed like a ripe cherry, alive, radiant—a masterpiece.
So beautiful.
"What are you doing?"
Brett's voice startled me. The gown slipped from my hands, brushing against the juice I had left nearby.
"What the hell have you done?" he roared, snatching it up.
"Oh my gosh—" my sister Alaiza rushed over, ripping the gown from him. "Mom! What do I do? My gown!"
"You can still wear it," Dad said calmly from the sofa. "It's not too late to wash. Ellen, is dinner ready?"
I nodded, ready to slip away, but Alaiza's hand clamped onto my hair.
"You always ruin everything!" she shrieked, slapping me hard across both cheeks. My scalp burned where her fingers dug in.
"Why don't you just disappear!"
"Stop it!" Dad's voice thundered through the room. The maids rushed in, along with Nely.
Alaiza let go, but her glare still pierced like daggers.
"It's just a gown, Alaiza. Don't go too far," Dad said firmly.
"But Dad—"
"Enough." He turned to me; his eyes sharp. "Clean yourself up." Then he left for the dining table.
Tears blurred my vision as I stood trembling. Nely came to my side.
"Are you alright?"
"I'm fine. I'll just… fix myself," I whispered.
Despite of their cruelty, a fragile hope stirred inside me. Dad had defended me, in his own way. Maybe… just maybe… I mattered.
Perhaps one day, they would finally accept me. Perhaps one day, we could be a family.