Chapter 3

Winter’s POV

I force myself to wake up early the next morning, in order to get ready for school. I’m so tired I can barely see straight and it’s all I can do to make myself get in the shower and get dressed. Damien came home late last night and insisted on me doing his schoolwork and when I didn’t move fast enough for his liking he punched me in the stomach, not to mention threw his damn school bag at me. It was an extremely long night, spent doing my homework on top of his as well. God I hate him.

I couldn’t help myself, stopping to turn and look into the battered mirror atop my shabby dresser. I’m not surprised by the large dark circles under my eyes or the thinness of my figure. I hate the way I look and I know that I’m ugly. My face is pale, so white rather than porcelain, my eyes a dull blue and my hair a frizzy blonde that’s long and lanky. No matter how much I washed my hair, it never seemed to make a difference. My clothes are ripped, hand me downs from op shops, jeans with holes in the knees and a sweater twice the size of me that hangs down way past my knees. I didn’t really have anything better to wear and I put my threadbare sneakers on with a grimace. The bottom of them are thin from over-use and I know that one day soon I’m going to have to go and look around the thrift shops and find a new pair to use.

sits there, impatiently waiting for his food. He looks a mess and I hope he cleans himself up before going to work, because at this rate he’ll lose his job.

too tired to do that this time and he drank it down without a qualm or complaint. Damien also staggered in and sat down at the table, glaring at me while he waited, drumming his fingers on the table as I hurried as best I could. Just once, I wish they would get off their

 

 

bacon and a slice of toast waits.It’s not even enough to touch the sides of my hunger, but I don’t dare take any more in case they see me. I stop short when Damien gets up from the

you’re doing” he says, and I eye him curiously, my heart already beginning to thump wildly in my chest, anticipating what’s about to

say nervously, and before I can stop him, his hand shoots out and sends the plate flying to the floor as

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