Page 25
Story: Ugly: The Stepsister's Story
“I can just tell.”
“Truly, please. I am begging you to do this…for me.”
“No.”
“There is so much more to you than how you look, Truly. I want people to see you the way I do. You are smart and funny and witty. Come down. Please.”
“N-O. No!”
She screamed in frustration, stomped out of the room, and slammed the door.
What did it matter if Comfort and Mother were entertaining guests? I didn’t care, so long as I didn’t have to be there. I pulled out one of my favorite books to pass the time. It was one that Father had frequently read from, and one that I had very nearly memorized in the past few months of solitude—one of fairytales, stories about giants and ogres, daring knights, and beautiful damsels in distress.
Beautiful.
If only I had appreciated my beauty when I had had it. Now I had nothing. Again, I forced myself to not think about my past. It was as if those memories belonged to someone else.
Muffled voices rose up from the first floor. Comfort’s guests must have arrived. I opened the door a crack to listen, but I was too far away to make out more than a few phrases at a time.
“Pleased to meet you.”
“—couldn’t be here.”
“—feeling ill.”
I could hear names being exchanged, a few pleasantries, then they retreated further into the manor where I couldn’t hear them at all. I went back to my book.
Late that evening, Comfort came back to my room. She knocked and entered before I invited her inside. I prepared myself to be criticized for not attending the dinner, sat stiffly on my bed, and kept my nose buried in my book.
“You missed out tonight.”
“No, I don’t think I did.” I replied, turning a page and refusing to look up.
“You really did. Guess what happened?”
“I have no idea,” I intoned in a bored voice.
“I think Algernon is in love with Mother.”
That got my attention. I raised my head.
“What?”
Comfort sat on the bed, snatched up my book and tossed it to the side.
“I know!” She curled her legs under her and hugged one of my decorative pillows. “Algernon saw Mother and got all tongue-tied and started stuttering like mad. You should have heard him introducing himself; he was all of a dither.”
“What did Mother do?”
“Oh, you know Mother. She was the ever-gracious host and asked him all about his work and past and everything. Polite and cordial, but distant.”
I tried to wrap my mind around the idea of someone other than Father being interested in Mother. And what did Mother think about it?
I shook my head. “I can’t believe it. That is just so…bizarre! Mother and…what was his name again?”
“Algernon.” Comfort wrinkled her nose. “Pretty awful name, isn’t it? Cynthia told me that it is a family name. She said that her dad hoped he would only ever have girls so he wouldn’t have to pass it on.”
I laughed. “I guess we shouldn’t be surprised though.”
Table of Contents
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- Page 25 (Reading here)
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