Page 7 of Neptune
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CASSIE
Age ten
T hat day, I remember holding her hand, wiping my tears away. I watched as Dad was buried in front of me. My heart broke for the thousandth time as I thought that I wouldn't be able to see him anymore.
Here, in the graveyard, people had gathered, most of whom were his business partners. He didn't have any close family or relatives here—he was an immigrant who married Mom.
All I knew was that he was an only son whose parents lived in Portugal. But I'd never met my grandparents.
"Poor little thing. After her mother died, now she has to lose her father too."
"I know, right? Who would have thought that Fabian Castillo would die because of a heart attack? He was still young."
" Thank God she still has Morgan. Poor woman. It's only been one year since they married."
I could hear people whisper about us, and I wondered if they knew that we could hear them. Well, maybe not, because Morgan was crying almost hysterically beside me—she was too consumed by grief, mourning Dad, that she wouldn't have had any idea even if the whole world was talking about her.
I watched again as the soil was poured onto the coffin. This was real. Daddy was gone. He would never make me laugh, carry me on his shoulders or kiss my forehead every night before I went to bed anymore.
And the realization of that made more tears fall onto my cheeks.
"She is so pretty even when she's crying. She's like a doll."
"Look at her skin. It's flawless."
"She would make people stop on the street."
I shifted uncomfortably as I stood, hearing all of those compliments. I knew whom they were talking about. I'd heard too much of it. It wasn't about Morgan.
It was about me.
Morgan sniffed, her sobs finally stopping. I wondered if she could hear the whispers.
God, why were adults so stupid? Why couldn't they just stop talking?
"With that look, she can become a celebrity when she gets older."
I froze. That was the first time someone was being specific about predicting my future. It was the silliest thing I'd ever heard, though. I knew that I wasn't that pretty, not when I looked into the mirror every morning only to see my eyebags and hair all over the place.
I mean, didn't all celebrities wake up pretty? Like all those memes, “ I woke up like this,” with Barbie's image.
Morgan squeezed my hand, and I glanced at her. She was still crying, her eyes squeezed shut.
That day, I should have known.
That day, I should have realized that it was the first time the idea struck her head.
???
Pleasing Morgan was the idea that had been planted in my head ever since I lost Dad. All my life, I'd never had any figure of a mother because Mom died when she gave birth to me.
When Dad married Morgan, I'd thought that I could finally have a mother. I'd been so over the moon. She'd been so nice, and she was beautiful.
We looked different, though. She was fair, blonde-haired and had eyes so enchanting that it could make me feel like I was drowning in them—her eyes were the color of amethyst.
Meanwhile, my hair was chestnut brown, so dark that it was close to black, my skin tanned. My eyes were chocolate.
I always wondered why people were talking about me instead of her every time they encountered us. It was like her light dimmed when she was with me.
However, she looked pleased every time someone complimented my beauty. She would buy me pretty clothes after she got back from work—she worked as an editor for a magazine—and say, " Cassie, you look so pretty in that. You're my beautiful little princess ."
And I would grin from ear to ear. She was like an angel to me, showering me with love and affection after I'd lost my parents.
She'd taken care of me when I had nobody else to turn to.
She'd sacrificed her life for me. I knew that Dad had left some money and inheritance for us, but she worked hard to top it up so that she could provide for me.
At that time, I always thought, What did I do to deserve her?
Why was she so kind?
I didn't know what I would do without her. I was a lonely creature.
She was the only thing I had. And she was everything to me.
???
Age 12
Things became different as years passed.
Morgan used to be very attentive to me and looked at me like I was the most beautiful human being in the world, but then, the adoration in her eyes was replaced by something that I couldn't really identify.
Something like a mixture of ambition, impatience and insecurity.
One morning, I was having breakfast with Morgan when she suddenly snatched my cereal away from me.
"Enough," she snapped. "You'll get fat."
My stomach growled. I knew that she most probably wouldn't let me, but I decided to take a chance.
I whispered, "But I'm still hungry—"
"You've had your salad," she reminded me, turning away from me before throwing my food into the sink.
Right. That salad had barely been one-quarter of a small plate. I watched as Morgan settled back in her seat in front of me, resuming eating her pancakes with bacon and eggs.
My mouth watered as I eyed her food. It had been weeks since I’d had my favorite meal.
Morgan glanced up at me, noticing me watching her with envy, and she said sharply, "Not until your tummy is flat, Cassie."
I looked down at my tummy. My friends in school told me that it was the flattest tummy that they'd ever seen. How flat did she want it to be?
I sighed in desperation. That moment, I finally realized the huge change in the way she thought of me. That no matter what I did, I was never beautiful enough in her eyes.
And that to gain her love, I had to be.
???
Age 13
My heart thumped in excitement when I heard the front door being opened that Friday night. I'd been waiting for Morgan to come home from work since I finished school in the afternoon.
When she closed the door behind her, taking off her heels, I rushed to her .
"Are we really going to watch the ballet performance tonight?" I was breathless at the end of my sentence because there was so much anticipation building up inside me.
Morgan smiled.
"Of course we are. I bought you a new dress so that you can wear it for the event later." She handed me a shopping bag, surprising me. "It will be a huge performance, so it would be good for you to wear something formal and elegant."
I squealed in delight, taking out a midnight blue dress from the shopping bag. A loud gasp escaped from my mouth. The dress was so pretty. "This is beautiful. Thank you. I love it so much."
Morgan smiled. "It's your birthday present, Cassie."
My heart was filled with so much joy that I felt like it could explode out of my chest. I'd been anticipating this day for a month. Morgan had promised to watch the ballet together on my birthday, and we could finally do it tonight after she came back from work.
I rushed into my room to change, while she walked into her room to get ready herself.
When I walked out of my room to meet Morgan in the foyer, a horrible feeling stirred inside me. I was already dressed in the new dress that Morgan had just bought for me.
It was the prettiest dress that I'd ever worn, but there was one problem. I couldn't zip the side of the dress fully—it was too small and tight for me.
I wonder whether Morgan had mistakenly chosen a size for a 10-year-old because there was no way that this dress would fit a middle schooler like me.
I began to panic and looked at her in horror. She was already dressed up too, clutching her bag, ready to leave. "I think something is wrong with this dress. The size doesn't fit me. It's too small."
She smiled down at me, but there was something about it that made me shudder. Her smile was beautiful, but her eyes were so cold that it felt like a sarcastic smile instead.
She stared down at the zipper at the side of my dress and tried to help me close it but to no avail. A knowing sigh left her lips.
"There's nothing wrong with the dress. But there's definitely something wrong with your body. Did you just gain weight?" she asked curtly.
I froze. I bet that Morgan could see that my face paled.
I hadn't checked my weight again recently, but I'd eaten some chocolate that a guy from my class had given me this week. Was it because of that?
Anger crossed Morgan's expression. "You foolish girl. Didn't I tell you to stop eating chocolate? Of course this beautiful dress is not going to fit you if you've turned into a pig."
Her words stabbed my heart like a knife.
"You're not going to come with me to watch the ballet," she stated, her voice firm. "You're just going to embarrass me in front of my friends."
I grabbed her arm, but she pushed me away.
"No, please," I begged, fear engulfing me. I'd been dying to go with her since the moment she told me about this plan, and I didn't want her to leave me just like that. "I want to come with you. Please, take me with you. I promise I won't eat the whole day tomorrow. I'm sorry. I've made a mistake."
"No, Cassie," she barked. "You're grounded. And don't wait for me to come home because I'm staying at Sylvia's house tonight. Looking at you again will only make my blood boil."
She dragged me toward my bedroom, and once we reached it, she pushed me inside so I fell onto the floor.
Then she slammed the door shut and locked it. Abruptly, I got up and turned the doorknob, but it was no use. I banged the door with my palm.
" No, please ," I cried, wishing that she would come back and forgive me. "Please, Morgan. Don't leave me," I yelled.
I cried, and I cried, but I knew that I was only wasting my energy.
And that was how I spent my 13th birthday. Alone, locked in my room, heart shattered. As Morgan had said, she didn't come back until the day after, during lunchtime, already making me starving from skipping two meals.
And sadly, I thought that I deserved that. Because I wasn't beautiful enough in her eyes.
???
Age 15
"I think I'm going to join the cheer team at school," I said to Morgan as we sat at the dining table.
Most of my friends told their parents about their days at school during dinner and I wanted to have that kind of moment with Morgan.
Unfortunately, she had very little interest in it.
"How come?" she asked, not moving her eyes off her plate.
I smiled, remembering the cheer team performance earlier at school to promote their squad—they totally killed it.
I felt excited just wondering how fun it would be to have a new experience with them. "I saw the announcement that they're opening the recruitment for new members, since the seniors are graduating soon."
"And do you think that you're beautiful enough to be a cheerleader?" Morgan finally looked up from her plate, shifting her attention to me, but her sentence instantly made the smile on my face vanish. "You're too fat to be on the cheer team."
A sudden pain sliced my heart again. I never knew that we had to be super skinny to join the cheer team. There was no requirement for that.
But I had to admit that they were all talented. I didn't have that talent—I just wanted to learn. If I was fat and untalented, would I only humiliate them?
"You're just going to be a joke in the eyes of every student in your school." Morgan stood up from her chair, already finished with her dinner, while I just realized that I hadn't even touched my food.
I was too lost in my thoughts, wondering what she meant. I stared at my salad and then down to my flat tummy, suddenly losing my appetite.
???
Age 16
Music was my escape. Every time my mood was sour, I allowed myself to be lost in music. I always loved listening to it, but what surprised me was how I loved singing.
YouTube did affect me a lot. There were a lot of talented people posting their content there. I never had a vocal coach, but I listened to a lot of artists and people who inspired me.
Learning how to play an instrument had been my dream. It must have been fun to be able to sing while playing an instrument. But it was impossible for me to buy a piano, so I'd wanted to own a guitar at least.
In school, a lot of guys approached me. And yes, I dated some of them. Somehow, knowing that someone else adored me eased my pain.
It was flattering—they made me feel beautiful and wanted outside my home, in which Morgan always made me feel like an ugly hulk.
There was this guy named Matt who gave me a guitar as my sixteenth birthday present.
He was my second boyfriend and he was the one whom I gave my virginity to.
One fine morning, I was singing in my bathroom. After I finished taking a shower, I wrapped myself in a towel and stepped back into my room, only to find Morgan in front of me, almost making me jump .
She was sitting on my bed, her arms crossed on her chest.
"You scared me." I panted, touching my chest, still recovering from the startle.
Morgan eyed me with an empty look. "Did you just sing in the bathroom? Whose song was that?"
I couldn't be more embarrassed. Did she just hear it all? My face flushed.
"Yeah, I did. Mariah Carey. Why?" I asked, my voice small. I expected her to mock me for singing so badly.
She shook her head, standing up. "Never mind. It's good." With that said, she headed to the door, leaving me openmouthed.
That was the first time in years that she said something good about me. When she touched the doorknob, she turned her head toward me.
"Might be useful when you fail to impress the modelling agency." She stepped out of my room and closed the door with a soft thud, leaving me even more dumbfounded.
I'd never thought that Morgan was planning to make me become a model, and I surely never expected that she also planned to throw me into Hollywood.