Why did I think I could do this? It’s been so long that I’ve worked on it. Planning, calculating the method, the circumstances, so everything would be falling into place with a happy ending.
Years of saying and doing everything she wanted. All the rules I was made to follow just so she could appear to have the perfect family. No one really knows another family’s habits. They only see appearances, not the true story. What our family appeared to be was perfection. Every member had their place, their duty, and the queen’s rules applied to all. And she was indeed a queen with all the negative aspects you’ve heard about in old fairytales; medieval practices that kept the rest of us moving in an obedient rhythm.
Practically my whole life involved rising to her every whim. Dinners, parties, all perfectly orchestrated by her hand. The neighborhood was appreciative and amazed by her prowess. Her home was perfection in every way. You’d think I was Cinderella with the list of chores I was expected to accomplish without reprisal. My father worked long hours every day to provide for us. I think he stayed as long as he dared at his office, not wanting to come home to be barraged from his wife, the queen.
My diary, hidden for only my eyes to see, holds my plans. I’ve been working on this since that day. My anger overshadows my grief remembering that day. I think she actually relished the idea of making me unhappier than usual. My demeanor was never haughty, she had no reason to treat me so badly, but that didn’t stop her.
One of my expected duties was to keep everything spotless. No animals were allowed in the house. I came upon a kitten who looked like she was nearly starved. She must have been the “runt of the litter”, one of the queen’s favorite terms. I cared for her secretly, made a sleeping area and fed her scraps from the table after meals. Something positive in my life — I felt like I was floating on air. She recovered under my loving care, and growing fast. I knew it wouldn’t be long before she would start to wander.
It was just such a day that the queen decided to go shopping. My little secret wandered out. Upon seeing the queen she went to make friends. The queen noticed, but quickly drove out of the driveway, and in a matter of seconds my new love was murdered. The queen saw her before driving out, and I’m positive she killed my kitten on purpose. If the action was not enough, it was the wicked smile she tossed back over her shoulder as she drove away. My heart was broken. That day I started planning in my diary. It wouldn’t take much. A bit of rat poison in her favorite meals. It would take time and patience, but I have plenty of both.